Sorry for being such a stranger, but when it rains it pours.

We have had poor Cheyenne to work with, Banshee's surgery and now a day old puppy. James's (brother) dog had puppies and sadly, either she didn't have enough milk or her milk was no good, so by the next morning all the puppies had passed away but one. Since I am no stranger to bottle feeding small animals every two hours, or taking care of sick or injured animals, it just made sense to bring her home with us. It's normal for me to walk around smelling like a combination of animal urine and sour milk. Does this make Early really sick or what?

The last couple of weeks have been hectic, flying around on business, mostly last minute crap. While packing for one of the trips I had to get the small suitcase iron out of the basement, the stairwell bulb had burned out, so on the way down I missed the last four steps and broke a toe. I was forced to run through airports looking like a god damn duck on peyote, it was not attractive.

All of this to have the pleasure of meeting with, no joke, Tweedle de and Tweedle dum. Two gentleman that were both more in touch with their feminine side than I have ever been. Their interior designing skills (met them at their home) awestruck me. They were more soft spoken than I, they shook hands softer than I, their hands were better manicured, they even pluck their eyebrows better than I. They both claim to be straight, not that I mind gay guys, I usually get along great with them. Two guys that are more feminine than I that are NOT gay, that makes me nervous.... And what's the shit with the side of the face kissing? We are talking porn here folks. We checked out a trial video shoot to pick the girls we would be using in the next movie. I am not kidding, there was one that could have used some serious Botox, and we are not talking in her face.
Until next time...

I've been pouting the past few days, first off my mouse died and that really sucked because since the poor little guy only had three working legs and one eye to begin with, I would have thought he would have gotten a longer life to compensate for this. But noooooo.
My mouse was cool, he will be missed unlike the little bastard that's free loading in the Explorer shredding my gloves, hats, coats and anything else I might leave in there.

Now for the depressing part. I got out of the shower a couple of nights ago, passed the armoire mirror naked and noticed that I had a cellulite dent on my left ass cheek, I almost passed out. I'm still in shock, a fucking cellulite! I scream to Early "OMG Earlyyyyy you gotta come here and look at this I have a cellulite dent on my left ass cheek, fuck, my life is fucking over, Earlyeeeeeee."
Early did his best to comfort me, he says... "Baby your life's not over, you've had that for about 4 months now, you have a couple smaller ones but you can only see them if the light hits it just right, it's no big deal."
WHAT ! A couple others, oh gawd !
This is awful, I'm not talking about the kind of dents that you get when you squeeze your butt cheeks together really hard, I'm talking about 3 Texas size craters on my left ass, the ones that are just there all the time no matter how you stand (I've tried several different ways).
What could I have possibly done to deserve a map of the fucking moon on my ass? Surely this is a nightmare that was meant for someone else.
I am devastated...

When you get an email that says do not open any emails with the subject heading titled INVITATION because it is one of the worst computer viruses yet, that means do not open it.
We're unable to attend every social function we're invited to but I still love to be invited. I mean I really love invites so of course the very first thing I do when I get an email with the subject heading titled INVITATION is open it.

My laptop will never be the same. I couldn't use it more than 5 or 10 minutes before it would freeze up, everything I had was erased including the stuff for the website.
I don't even remember where I had it hosted, 2 months of work lost, all because I enjoy cocktails, have hairy feet and like to open presents. In my defense, we have a lunch date with one of our congressman a birthday party and a wedding to go to this month and I thought the email might be a reminder notice for one of those events. I ask everyone to send reminders that way if I get side tracked (spaced it) on the way to the event I can blame them for not reminding me.

Sounds like we've all been on the same weird week wave length.
From Twinkle Toes (Dions new man name) breaking his leg while frolicking in mud, to our tweaker neighbors using me for target practice and some fucking prune dick from UK taking time out from jacking off to spew shit in Whistler's direction. What a fucking clusterfucking fuck.
Still we preserver, riding into the night in faded torn hip hugger blue jeans, windows down, bare feet on the dash board, drink and smoke in hand, hounds in the back, shot gun at our side, with Credence Clearwater playing so loud it's vibrating the side view mirrors and pulling over every now and again to make sweaty love on the side of the road.

We missed you all!

Baby Boy Banshee finally gets KO' d
We removed his bandage and found his tail WORSE! Obviously time to check out another vet.
Early let his fingers do the walking and found a place that advertised it's office hours as 7 AM to 10 PM all week long. This raised our eyebrows, our dogs never need a vet until the weekend and usually always after 5 PM.

We called, told them what the problem was and they got him in right away. It took the vet no more than 2 minutes to diagnose and 40 minutes to have him in surgery. Wow! This guy was impressive. He actually let us carry Banshee into the operating room and stay with him until he was totally sedated.

Early explained to the vet that Banshee was not like other dogs. He can Hoola hoop and order his own Del Taco, minus onions. If he woke up from surgery around strange dogs, in a kennel, without us there, it would emotionally scar him for life.

I have tried for years with various vets to get my dogs home to recover, for years I have been told for liability reasons, I could not. Another words the dog may be hallucinating and bite. Early assured the vet that yours truly, has mucho experience with hallucinations and would be more capable than most, dealing with this situation should the need arise. The vet agreed to let us take Banshee home while he was still heavily sedated.

Early carried poor 118 pound, head bobbing, drooling, stoned out of his mind, Baby Bansh. From the office to the car, from the car to the house and up a long flight of stairs without dropping, tripping or bitching. He never missed a beat, way to go Babe.

Poor Baby Banshee did something to his tail last week, time for a visit to the vet...
Those of you who know Banshee, understand that this is no walk in the park. Banshee is one hell of a contender and he has never met a vet he didn't bite. We being the responsible pet owners we are, attempted to even the odds by pulling out the veterinary Tactical gear. This consists of a choke leash, tranquilizers, and a muzzle (for Banshee not me.) The key word here is attempted.

The visit went something like this...
In the left corner, weighing in at 118 pounds, is Baby Boy Banshee, the light weight champion of the world. 16 fights 15 knock outs, he remains undefeated.
In the right corner weighing in at 170 pounds, sweating bullets, very unhappy but driving a hummer, is victor, the soon to be three fingered veterinarian.

For those of you who didn't place your bets... Banshee still stands undefeated at 17 fights, 16 knockouts.

We are off to round up the horses and get their hooves done. Wish us luck, as so far the horses remain undefeated also.