dream that stuff was made of

i swear to god, this dog better start shitting soon.

about a month or so ago, we adopted this miniature male schnauzer from The Brown One. she wasn't home very much, and started to feel guilty (perhaps rightfully so) about not being able to spend any time with him. between her school, work, and moderate (yet consistent) drinking schedules, he spent most of his days alone, so she was mercifully and understandably looking for a new home for him.

we were a bit apprehensive at first. we have not had good luck with canines, as a general rule. our first dog ever, a beagle named gracie, ran away so often and so far, it was like she was trying to rack up her frequent "goddam that dog!" miles for a vacation in europe. the last time she got out, she ended up at the house of some hunt-happy gun nut that was so pleased with her we decided just to let him keep her.

next up was pilar, a wire-haired black-and-white puppy we rescued from the pound. preternaturally obedient and well-mannered, we were both pleased and impressed, happy to have made such an astute selection. that is, until she quit eating, started puking a yellowish slime, didn't want to walk at all, and eventually stopped drinking water. yes, it was parvo, kids. we asked the vet if it was curable. "yes," he said, "but it can get pretty costly. over a thousand dollars, generally. it depends on what kind of hero you want to be." as it turns out, i had no inclination to be a hero for more than about $150.

maebe, named after the character from the tv show Arrested Development, followed. she was a pretty red-brown pit-lab mix, who also turned out to be clinically insane. we thought she was just stupid, seeing as how we could not train her to do one damn thing, up to and including not digging in the trash, not ripping the face off of stuffed animals, not hacking into our email accounts, and not having sex with cats. but we found out how wrong we were when she snapped at a friend's two-year-old. you know that movie, the Sound of Music? there's a song in it called "How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?" that one of the nuns sings about Julie Andrews' character. well, if that song had been written about maebe, the answer would be, "get Sweet Tits' dad to shoot her in the back of the head and bury her near a train track north of town". not terribly lyrical, i know, but sometimes, when you try to bite a child, bad things happen.

our current "man's best friend" applicant, max, has mostly been terrific. he doesn't dig in the trash, he's great with kids, well-behaved, knows a couple of tricks, doesn't bark much, sleeps all night, enjoys frequent naps, and travels with no anxiety. he does, however, have what i would refer to (if i were a scientist) as a "shy colon". this dog will not shit when we walk him. we take him out like 10 times a day, for 10 minutes a go. no shit. at all. we're spending almost 2 total hours outside with him, yet he remains unfazed and unaffected. this would not be a problem if was not consistently and sneakily leaving his crusty turds on the floor outside the room of The Middle One.

unlike myself, Sweet Tits has not quite reached zen. so the fecal leavings of our shaggy, adorable boarder tend to affect her emotionally. anger, to be more specific about which emotion. what max doesn't realize is that he does not have quite a big enough "balance" in the "love bank" with her to be able to make a "trust withdrawal" of that size, and that if he does not stop with all the "overdrafts", she will "close his account" by "cutting off his fucking head".

let's get to some updates.


The Sweetest Angry Cunt in the World and The Brown One Update:

the two left last wednesday for the promised land, california - where it's mostly legal to smoke dope and for two dudes to get married and put it in each other's butts, but some-hoo, smoking a cigarette is like eating a live baby. lemme tell ya, fella, i just don't get it.

The Brown One comes from a loosely-affiliated group of hunter-gatherers living in a collection of shanties and lean-to's known as "Rancho Cucamonga", which lies on the outskirts of a slightly larger village called "Los Angeles". she had planned to visit her family over the holidays for their yearly pagan mexican rituals, sacrificing a white virgin to "hay-soos" and eating jerky made from the labia of many exotic jungle cats. somehow, through powerful hypnosis and a healthy dose of ghb, convinced The Sweetest Angry Cunt to accompany her on this journey.

mapquest lists the drive at 22.67 hours (vegas has the over-under for this listed at 23.5 hours). yet through skillful navigation, careful planning, and forward-thinking, the girls somehow made the drive somewhere between 27-28 hours. look, ladies. just because you have a car full of marijuana cigarettes, shrooms, and open whiskey bottles doesn't mean you have to drive half the speed limit to avoid attracting attention. slow drivers attract attention, too. i'm just saying.

we'll check back with the ladies when they have something substantial to report.


Football Gambling Update:

on this front, i'm a little pissed. my bookie (who i refer to as The Gay Pimp because his last name is literally a shade of purple) was refusing all of my calls and text messages, so i was unable to place any of the bets that i had intended for Week 16 (please see: upsets, historically strong week for). unfortunately for me, i had planned on betting several underdogs, both to cover and to win outright. had i been able to place these bets as planned, it would have been a very profitable weekend for a blogger who shall remain nameless (please see: truly, yours). especially since it would have been the weekend of the year with my biggest potential win/loss, as i would be betting a large number of games for double my usual wager.

as it stands, i lost five dollars from a bet with a liquor store clerk. in the baltimore-dallas game, i gave him the ravens +11, confident that their rookie quarterback would have trouble on the road in the LAST GAME EVER held at Texas Stadium. especially with the cowboys' defense playing so well over the last couple of weeks, and the team still desperate for a win to stay in the playoff hunt! baltimore won the game outright. eff it.


Currently on the white board behind the bar: Try a Billy-Bob! (i wish i were making that up.)

one correction before we go our separate ways: Big Dumb Chris was incorrectly listed last blog as my only follower (no cult). that honor clearly belongs to my good friend Yak from the dallas area. suck it, Big Dumb Chris.

keep all those great emails coming to hotwatercornbreadblog@gmail.com and i'll keep posting the best ones!

i'm on it.

dave