Clogblog - From the hood: Marlena, the new Black Lab neighbor-- all the best traits of the breed, seems 2 me, and brains, too--loves cats, which is good, because we always have a cat or 3, and Ellie has coddled several of our cats past 20 yrs. They get slow, and Marlena’s young and fast. She’s also a normal dog and the “Loves Cats” entry on her C.V. is because she has been friends with cats b4. Dudden mean she won’t chase a non-friend; dudden mean we know what she’d do when she caught him. “Him” is Henry, our retainer, our hood's serial-killer (of gopher hordes), our knight. He’s getting up there, and he’s all bony (though he eats like a horse, and we’ve wormed him). Marlena’s already chased Hank, and he’s already eluded her. He’s not losing his clean-livin’ physical edge, and there’s plenty of cover for him to vanish into, but i can’t be sure he won’t delay, fatally. He’s getting cantankerous. I saw him send a vixen fox crawling back under the front gate. (She crawled in. He sauntered out of the bushes, and up to her, gave her a couple of swipes on the schnozz; she sat back for a moment, was seriously taken aback for a moment and then took his needle-sharp suggestion w/o further ado.) He was totally right. Ellie & I loved watching her and, for a few months, her kits, but she killed my chickens, more than once, and she’d kill a cat, i do not doubt, if she thought she could w/o great risk. So anyway here’s Henry and Marlena, so i borrowed her and brought her over, on a leash, for a visit. I let her and 2 cats stare intently at each other, telling her no, letting the leash go slack, waving the flat of my hand in front of her face—stay!—all that. Then I took her home. Everybody "got it," but that doesn’t guarantee anything at all, not yet. Stay tuned.
Whaddaya mean, “stay tuned”? You know what time it is on the east coast? Yes, i do. I’m from there, but nobody’s reading this but me and whover i send it to. It’s new, and so am i, to this. If you’re reading this in the future, archivally, so addicted to the clogblog UR, then it doesn’t matter what time it is. (For the record, it’s 7:12 P.M., PDT; 09/13/11.) I swear to u, when the number of real-time visitors reaches a million, i’ll change my daily pattern—well, not “swear,” maybe, but maybe i will. It’s highly possible.
So this is what I was going to write about today…:
The Great American Quadrennial Horse’s Ass Quiz
We're entering now the main gate to our beloved quadrennial game show, “Which Horse's Ass Do You Like Best?” The winner of the asses in the pack gets what could be the most important job and highest honor on earth but is instead the world's Disappointer-In-Chief, Con Artist of the Developed World, Premier Stooge of the Oligarchs, and many other heraldic titles.
In the current line-up of mediocreheroes there's the dynamic Rick Perry, the definitive answer to “Where's the beef?”. If this electorate decides that's the big question, Perry's a shoo-in. The governor of Texas, he has signed off on more state killings—the formal, countable, official kind—than any leader in American history. What more can I say? This is the Man for our Times!
…and I was into this subject, which will morph into another one, from the particular to the general (there’s a name for that), but now my flame’s guttering. I’ll tick off all the candidates 2 date, as Paul Simon sings, but it’s 7:30. I have real-world responsibilities unmet. Hasta mañana. (And it was 12:04 A.M. today when I noticed I hadn’t hit the Send button.)
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