1. The Poker Quiz will be answered next week. Thanks to all who have posted; I'm really enjoying finding out what you would have done. In my original post, I meant to say that I made the wrong play on one of those instances, and the right play on another. Not that that should affect your reasoning.
2. No need to go into gory details here, but let me says that if I could speak the language of dogs for 30 seconds I would say this: eating the synthetic stuffing that comes inside of pee pads is not good for you. No it is not.
3. We made an offer on a house. News to follow, perhaps.
4. I have a new job. Well, actually an old job: high school tutor (SAT, Math, Physics and maybe--Gulp--Latin). But it's a great company and the pay is good, so I'm excited. What this means is that poker will go back to an intense hobby. And that, my friends, is a good thing. I've never hated playing poker so much as I did the last three months.
5. This Saturday I'm going to see a Hip-Hop dance showcase. Really. I know what many of you are thinking: "ANCIANT, given your mad skills, shouldn't you be _performing_ in said showcase?" I should, yes. But the people of LA aren't ready.
6. Just in case any of YOU ALL feel like eating the synthetic stuffing that comes inside pee pads, be advised: they don't exactly move through the digestive system with speed and grace.
No they do not.
9 comments:
If I was sitting in a park, and a dog, who had miraculously been given the ability to converse with me for thirty seconds in my own language, came up to me and said, "Hey, don't eat those red berries over there...they'll upset your stomach", I have to think that I would be slightly dissapointed in what could have otherwsie been a truly remarkable event.
1. When buying a house, you should totally buy one with serious water damage that will require you to unexpectedly gut an entire bathroom, thereby chucking your budget right out the freaking window. Yeah. That's what you should do.
2. Congratulations on the job!
3. Top ten people I would expect to hear use the phrase "pee pad" in everyday discourse: not you
Walter-
I thought the same thing, in writing the post. But still. It would be worth it. You'd think the dog would learn, after how bad he feels AFTER eating synthetic fiber, not to do it. But he doesn't. So maybe a little direct talk--man to dog--would do it?
Actually it's moot now. He's been neutered. He seems a lot less rambunctious.
Cartooniste--
Yes, I'm semi-dreading all the exciting house repairs we're going to have to begin to think about. I had a dream last night--very vivid--that we discovered an infestation of leeches (!) in the master bedroom after we'd moved in. Our dog was chasing them around trying to eat them, but more and more kept coming out of the wall.
It was traumatic. I'm still kind of freaked out. My only consolation is that as far as I know, leeches are fairly rare in Ventura County.
ANCIANT
I'm not sure I agree with your logic here. I consider myself to be slightly more intelligent than many small dogs, and I feel pretty terrible after every one of my two double cheeseburgers + 20 McNuggets meals from McDonald's. Yet, I can't stop myself from ordering it each time I pass those delicious golden arches. (This will not surprise those who spent time with me in London, and remember all too well my nightly double cheeseburger + chicken strips + french fries + onion rings meal that I got at the Burger King located so conveniently on my way home from work.)
Anyway, perhaps your dog just has an extremely addictive personality. He knows it's wrong, but he just can't help himself.
I just realized who Walter Evans is. Remarkable. Hi.
And I think it would be staggering, dog speech aside, that the dog didn't speak speak with poor grammar, an accent, bad manners, and that he was concerned, polite, and apparently unsurprised that he could speak.
The book Luck Dog by Barrowcliffe, I feel, most accurately depicts how dogs would speak and think. That's right, I consider myself able to asses such things. It's also about a compulsive poker player. Woof.
Also, pee pads are made of heroin. Don't ask me how I know that.
I'm actually still trying to figure out who ANCIANT is. Judging by the number of cute puppy photos featured on this blog, it can't possibly be who I originally thought it was.
Walter--You can post cute puppy photos and still be a hard, vigilante street-justice type of guy. Believe me. Just this morning I dismantled an entire caribou with my bare hands, then ate his raw liver. It happens.
And to go back to the issue of explaining what to eat--I think there's a difference. In London, you ate 12 candy bars for dinner, yes. But you KNEW that it would make you feel sick. You just didn't care. The Bink, as far as I can tell, has no idea that eating synthetic, pee-saturated, plastic foam is going to make him feel bad. Even though, each of the nine times he's done it, he's felt...uhmm....bad. So the idea is that I could somehow imprint him with the knowledge that it's going to be a lose-lose proposition once and for all. That way, my wife and I won't have to replace his bathroom landing pad three times a day, and he won't waddle around with a belly stretched so tight that if you dropped him against a cement slab he'd bounce higher than your head.
I never ate 12 candy bars for dinner. That was simply a snack that I had at bedtime to help me fall asleep.
But, your point is well taken.
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