My Dimwit Dog

Where did I disappear to this time?

One word: dog.

Or rather atomic dog.

The new puppy is a maniac.

 Welcome to the new chaos in my home.

 Between work and Seamus chewing everything I own to shreds,

I haven't had a moment to hot glue anything.

How crazy is it?

Don't get me wrong...

we love him to pieces, and he's family.

But this is my only time to get a post in.

Coming soon: how to repair most of your masticated,

unrecognizable, saliva-soaked possessions.

Tossing Daisies in the Surf

I am not a fan of funerals.

I find that's just not the last memory I want to have

of someone who was a part of my life.

When my sister passed away, I knew how I wanted to honor her memory.

 We invited friends and family to join us on the beach

where Jen and I hung out as kids.

The universe was cooperating that day with a perfect, sparkling morning.

 There's no way to be depressed with your toes in the sand.

 The idea of this ceremony is to take turns sharing happy

memories and toss a flower into the ocean.

I bought three bouquets of white daisies.

There was a good bit of laughter as we recalled hijinx 

and shenanigans from back in the 80's, 

and pleasant recent adventures and Facebook postings.

As blossoms washed back up, I saw a little boy of 4 or 5 gather

some of the stems and present his mother with them.

Further down the beach, someone was sticking them in the shore line like a garden.

You know I was smiling.

I don't generally indulge anymore, but I felt I'd be forgiven.

And I did go have a beer.

Reading...

This was probably not a good choice for this week, huh?

In Memorial

Wednesday afternoon, I was at Lowes when I got the call.

Mark was with me, saw me start to collapse, and ran across the store,

 barely keeping me on my feet.

As soon as I could breathe again, I told him what had happened, 

and he took my car keys from me.

My younger sister, Jennifer, had had a massive heart attack

and was gone.

Bright, funny, and popular, she was also beautiful.

We grew up at the beach and were always tanned and sporting

bleached out hair from hours in the sun.

 Jen married her childhood sweetheart a couple months after my wedding...

 

 ...and my nephew, Chip, is just 4 months younger than Samwow.

He's a little older now.

 My niece is a Junior in high school and has been college shopping

with her mom, so they spent Jen's last few weekends together alone.

Athough she was in a meeting at the hospital where she was head of HR,

we still lost her at the way-too-young age of 49.

There will be a lot less laughter in this world without her.

Inspiration Point: Wanna Come to a Party?

While I was remodeling my mother's house,

 one day, the van broke down and had to be towed to my mechanic's,

leaving me stranded at the condo.

Eventually, my buddy, Mark and I got hungry, so we decided to strike out on foot 

in the Spring dusk and see what the neighborhood had to offer.

Not 1/4 mile away we stumbled upon a strip mall with a little sports bar.

Since we're both former athletes and wing enthusiasts, this was an easy choice.

It turned out to be a Cheers situation.

And the bar is owned by a police officer and his wife,

it's frequented by the force,

so it's a very fun, safe atmosphere.

They also oblige me by stocking non-alcoholic beer.

We both hooked up with outside work and a social life from there.

The universe is a funny thing.

 Yesterday was the head bartender's baby shower.

 With 200 guests in attendance, everyone chipped in to decorate, cook,

bake, create, and general havoc ensued.

This was one of THREE buffets!

 Our mom-to-be's mother hand made all of the decorations.

I'd make a hoot pun here, but that's beneath even me.

Swagged banners sported the baby's name...

 ...and some very practical onesies.

This kid has clothes, let me tell you.

And shoes.

I bought seven pairs alone.

She's the Imelda Marcos of the drool posse.

 This is the gift table before the party started.

You heard me.

 I was privy to the theme in advance, so my package tie-on was a pink

washcloth owl puppet.

 The decorations weren't the owlnly

avian touches.

It took us a while to brave messing this arrangement up.

 Eventually, the call of provolone and salami proved too much.

 These were the table decorations.

Clever, inexpensive, easy, and what an impact!

 I have a question...

does anyone ever eat these?

 Every seat in the house was eventually filled,

the bar was packed, and outside tables were spilling over.

Now, this shindig was co-ed, so how do you get a bunch of cops, carpenters, 

pavers and painters to enjoy a pink party?

Oh, we have ways.

 You have your lovely bartender fill baby bottles with domestic draft...

 ...and then you get the guys involved in a bottle chugging competition!

I wasn't going to miss this spectacle for the world!  

 Our cheerful proprietress doled out the suds.

 I'm not sure I can ever face these guys again.

Mom was quite pleased with the soiree,

and Baby Amelia is set for her first months of being adored.

Lose the hat, Mom.

Very Wrong Porn

Why do I call it porn?

por·nog·ra·phy  

/pôrˈnägrəfē/

Noun

 The representation in books, magazines, photographs, films, and other media of scenes or behavior that are designed to arouse.

Not to mention...you know you rushed over here feeling guilty as hell, didn't you?

Here's some completely inappropriate humor to get you started on a good day!

Now wipe your sceen off and get to work.