A Dog's Life

Most days I am so busy, I don't know which end is up.  Even if I find a bit of time here and there, it's spent watching TV shows or reading blogs.  My brain is just too tired to function in any sort of a creatively active way.  Then, all of a sudden, I find a respite--a few days when work slows down and my running around stops.  The first thing I do is have a couple of cocktails, all 1950s Don Draper styles, to relax and unwind.  

Inevitably, my boozy unwinding comes with a price.  As I come up with something to fill my time, for instance, I suddenly realize that I had just spent one too many hours hours taking photos of my dog.  Indeed, suddenly a combination of booze and time makes a photo journal of my dog's life seem like a perfectly logical way to creatively pass the time.   

Since I am very much invested in productively spending my time (I have thoroughly assimilated the Protestant work ethic), the only thing that remains is to post the said photos on a blog in the name of, obviously, productively spending my time.  So, without further ado, here is Grover's aka Stinky's photo journal.

Porndog: Grover enjoys exposing himself whenever he gets an opportunity to do so.  The best place to do it is his very own bed.

Most dogs shy away from an evening in front of the fire, but not Grover.  He cannot wait for the weather to get cold so he can sit in front of a warm fire and reflect on the day's events.

Sometimes a dog can get really sad cause he needs a haircut in the most desperate way.  Then, he gets a haircut and style and he's all, "come and get it bitches!"  

To his utter surprised disappointment, however, no matter the stylish cut, all dogs, both ladies and gents, cross the street when they see him coming.  No matter the cut, the barking annoys all potential canine friends.  The barking is a self-defense mechanism.  I mean, what small dog doesn't have a Napoleonic complex?

The height of creatively yet productively spending time came at the end of last October when I dressed Grover up as Princess Leia in preparation for Halloween.  I don't think he's forgiven me for it just yet.  He keeps bringing it up.

A Twofer & Postscript

Trying to make up for lost blogging time and feeling inspired.  First of all, soon after I posted "some pole dancing," a friend shared a website with photos of creatively altered signage--signage which is otherwise harmless.  Here is where I found a play on the word polish.  Whoever did this has got my vote.

Then, while catching up on my Polish news, I found a fascinating story.   Near Wroclaw, a sizable city in western Poland, the police stopped an 18 year old with marijuana in his possession.  When asked where he got it, he told them that he found it in a nearby garden.  The police investigated and found a garden with about 17 pot plants growing almost as high (oh yeah!) as three meters.  The garden belongs to a 77 year old woman who apparently had no idea what it is that grew in her yard.  She keeps chickens who really enjoyed feeding on the plants and she saw no harm in them pecking on the greens.  The police confiscated the robust bushes, but now they have no idea what to do with the nice old lady.  The story was titled "She Fed Pot to Chickens."  The most informative of the short article's lines?  "The coop of hoot" (translation entirely mine).

Finally, as if "some dance pole" and a pot grandma weren't enough, just as I was checking the TV schedule for this week (which has like 50 million new shows on it), I saw the title for "The Millionaire Matchmaker" reality show episode: "The Plastic Surgeon and the Pole Dancer."  Now I'm wondering whether the universe is conspiring for me or against me cause, obviously, it's all about me, the ultimate Pole.

Pole Dancing

One of my colleagues (who shall remain nameless), affixed this cartoon on my office door just the other day:

http://www.speedbump.com/cg_speedbump.php

 

How very apropos for this blog!  For a while now, I've been meaning to explore, per Sweet Lady's suggestion, the very many ways in which I can play with the word Pole (not to mention the many ways one can play with a pole/Pole) as in North and South, as in pole dance and dancing pole, as in have pole, will travel (ok, I just made that one up).  I would love to get more suggestions and creative ways of integrating Poles into your lives, people, so bring them and share them!  Pray tell, how have poles/Poles affected your life?