This dog looks like the dog from that “look at this awesome dog” flyer from some years back. This guy is so awesome he needs two names.
It’s possible that he’s out hunting murderers, but my money is on him being out in the field getting his exploratory committee together for the 2020 presidential race. Not Neutered, Not For Sale.
Guys, guys. Moonie & Kilo’s Excellent Adventure. Moonie & Kilo’s Day Off. Moonie & Kilo: The Odyssey Begins. Moonie & Kilo: An Affair To Remember.
Guys?
It’s not as prevalent as it used to be, but there’s a thing in pop culture called the answer song. An answer song, usually recorded by another artist, is a response to a previously recorded song. “Southern Man” is followed by “Sweet Home Alabama.” “Work With Me, Annie” is answered by “Roll With Me, Henry,” which is ultimately answered by “Annie Had A Baby.” If you want to get dark, there’s always the song “Little Blossom” (a song from the point of view of a neglected child who eventually gets killed by her drunken father) and the ensuing, if unimaginatively titled, “Answer to Little Blossom” (sung by the father who is now in prison and expecting to get the death sentence).
The song “Boy Named Sue” already has a kind of weird and terrible answer song (look it up; I’m not linking it here), but I think I found a better one, lost pet notice-style. Friends, meet a bitch named Richard:
“Bitch” using the classic definition, of course. I’m sure she’s a very sweet pup.
After finding this lost dog notice
I started reading about the Labors of Hercules and am now very grateful that I was not born a demi-god bastard in ancient Greece*. You should be too. If you had, your stepmom would have driven you insane – like kill your wife and kids and best friend insane – and then you’d have to do stuff like chase a deer around the world for a year and repair clothes while in drag and clean up 30 years’ worth of cow poop, just so everybody knew you felt really bad about what you’d done when you were insane. And all this because your dad tricked your real mom into having sex with him by pretending to be her husband.
Maybe this Hercules isn’t having such a tough time of it, though. Maybe he’s simply playing with Orthrus and Cerberus and wondering what it would be like to have more than one head. Don’t worry, owners of Hercules; I’m sure he’ll be back before too long. There are no dog treats in Hades.
Driving the Pacheco Pass last week, Benny and I came across this sign for Cricket:
Cricket, what are you doing out there on your own? Are you hunting for dinosaur bones at Dinosaur Point? There aren’t actually any dinosaur bones there.
I hope you came home for Christmas.
When I first encountered this notice indicating Constantyn (or ConstantYn?) the dog’s disappearance, I immediately blamed the headless guitarist in the picture. I’m not sure why. It’s just that Constantyn, a/k/a Buddy, seems awfully tired of what that guitarist is playing.
I have a suggestion, Headless Guitarist. Learn Ween’s song “Fluffy” and play it a lot, preferably while sitting on a porch. If Buddy can hear that and his heart isn’t melted, I’m not sure what to tell you.
Wow. First we lose Shaggy (literally, for a time) and now Skooby Doo is missing. I think there may be a connection.
Who do you think is behind this?
Down along the LA River this week, we found two versions of a lost pet notice regarding Chuy the chihuahua.
Here’s the modest version:
And here’s the somewhat more grand version:
Eleven-year-old included for purposes of scale.
I know you say you love everyone, Bessie, but it’s hard to tell from this picture if you love that piece of rope or not. Maybe you love it a little too much?
Anyway, nice flower!
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