It is raining like an unkempt goat. And for those unaware of such intricacies or possibly only associated with groomed goats, that is a veritable shitload of pouring water. All night long it rained and all morning & still it rains. The road into the skunkworks was halfway flooded out up in this heezy. Dizzle fizzle that’s a drizzle.
So valentine’s day, eh? A happy one to all. Mrs. P & I will be fine-dining at Baci Bistro maybe I’ll bust out the batphone and have ‘em grill up a goose gizzard. Anything is possible up in this grizzled fandango. My homey g-dog will wait on us so hopefully he will hook us up all kine extra goodies and give us that baci yaci styleee.
Uh, yeah guy?
So how’s this new hang-out? I like the blue, actually, and the art-deco like 3-D boxey thing it’s got going on. I mean obviously it’s no busblog or hose monster, but it sure beats the half-way house in Kalihi, ya know, camped out next to the methadone clinic, roaches and rats fighting over a piece of cheese. It’s got, what’s the word I’m looking for? A certain genesaykwah or a vibe of zhizhi, that’s the ticket. Or not. You decide, don’t let me lead you like a goat to cheese, it’s your dime cap’n, run with it.
Ok so maybe I should elaborate on this whole dog named clipper thing. First off, no offense meant to my own dog, whose name is morgan, and who is just about the best dog that a fella could hope for, but ya know, he’s a normal good ol dog. This dog clipper, while not as close a relationship to me, is nonetheless a psychically gifted but beneficial to the cause of righteousness canine. It’s name is clipper because one of his ears have been partially clipped. He can actually still hear fine though, it’s just the
flappy part, dig? So my buddy salad-bar picked him up at the pound and this dog is like chillin, and the first time I see the dog, he like looks up and I hear this voice in my head all saying “yo keith (he KNEW my blog name, sheeeit!) the rulons are on their way, we need to set up a deep space nine situation STAT!” and I’m like FUCK dude you’re dog is talking to me, and he’s like “what? Are you on crack?” and I realize that he didn’t hear it and I think “ok keith relax, chill, your having an episode, blame it on the booze,” and I’d had a few, so I’m like “ha ha, just fukn with you dude hah dude.”
So it was all good. And actually then clipper looks at me and is like “sucka. Can’t you take a joke? Dangety danget, I don’t need my owner knowing that I’m like from the planet zorgak, shit!” so I’m like, sorry dawg. Let’s keep it on the DL.
So we did. But then my blog started actin’ up, and I hear his telepathic message, calling from across the pacific, “start a blog about ME keith, all about me, a dog named clipper. Start it, and they will come.”
And you’re here aren’t you? So I guess he was right. Shit. Fukn dog.
So valentine’s day, eh? A happy one to all. Mrs. P & I will be fine-dining at Baci Bistro maybe I’ll bust out the batphone and have ‘em grill up a goose gizzard. Anything is possible up in this grizzled fandango. My homey g-dog will wait on us so hopefully he will hook us up all kine extra goodies and give us that baci yaci styleee.
Uh, yeah guy?
So how’s this new hang-out? I like the blue, actually, and the art-deco like 3-D boxey thing it’s got going on. I mean obviously it’s no busblog or hose monster, but it sure beats the half-way house in Kalihi, ya know, camped out next to the methadone clinic, roaches and rats fighting over a piece of cheese. It’s got, what’s the word I’m looking for? A certain genesaykwah or a vibe of zhizhi, that’s the ticket. Or not. You decide, don’t let me lead you like a goat to cheese, it’s your dime cap’n, run with it.
Ok so maybe I should elaborate on this whole dog named clipper thing. First off, no offense meant to my own dog, whose name is morgan, and who is just about the best dog that a fella could hope for, but ya know, he’s a normal good ol dog. This dog clipper, while not as close a relationship to me, is nonetheless a psychically gifted but beneficial to the cause of righteousness canine. It’s name is clipper because one of his ears have been partially clipped. He can actually still hear fine though, it’s just the
flappy part, dig? So my buddy salad-bar picked him up at the pound and this dog is like chillin, and the first time I see the dog, he like looks up and I hear this voice in my head all saying “yo keith (he KNEW my blog name, sheeeit!) the rulons are on their way, we need to set up a deep space nine situation STAT!” and I’m like FUCK dude you’re dog is talking to me, and he’s like “what? Are you on crack?” and I realize that he didn’t hear it and I think “ok keith relax, chill, your having an episode, blame it on the booze,” and I’d had a few, so I’m like “ha ha, just fukn with you dude hah dude.”
So it was all good. And actually then clipper looks at me and is like “sucka. Can’t you take a joke? Dangety danget, I don’t need my owner knowing that I’m like from the planet zorgak, shit!” so I’m like, sorry dawg. Let’s keep it on the DL.
So we did. But then my blog started actin’ up, and I hear his telepathic message, calling from across the pacific, “start a blog about ME keith, all about me, a dog named clipper. Start it, and they will come.”
And you’re here aren’t you? So I guess he was right. Shit. Fukn dog.
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