I Saw This In The NY Times

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New Camera

I got a new camera. The old one died just before Preakness. Check out the new pictures in Ally's 4-5 month album...First 6 are with the old camera.

I Wish I Had Read This Article Two Weeks Ago

I Could Have Cloned Al The Dog. I wonder if I could still use his Great Fang.

Giddens May Have To Go Pro Whether He Wants To Or Not

Check This article out. Use BugMeNot if you need a user name and password.

Preakness 2005

From the Baltimore Sun:

"Surveying the debris littering the Pimlico infield the day after the 130th running of the Preakness, one could conclude that many a racegoer left Baltimore's biggest party drunk, naked, shoeless and happy (or perhaps, regretful). And, possibly, it was all caught on film. The evidence: beer cans and plastic bottles as far as the eye could see; underwear; articles of clothing, including socks and shoes; and boxes from disposable cameras. And then there was the stench. The midmorning sun warmed the trash yesterday, intensifying a putrid aroma of day-old beer mixed with even more distasteful smells."

Thankfully, we were off the infield away from the animals. Perhaps more on this later. I'm still recovering.

Al The Dog: 1990-2005

Sadly, everyone's friend, Al the Dog died Saturday night. After behaving strangely and being rushed to the vet, he was diagnosed with Gastric Dilatation Volvulus, commonly known as twisted stomach. Facing major surgery, and not a good chance for survival, we decided it was best to let Al go. His quality of life had deteriorated noticeably in the last year (arthritis, Chronic Ulcerative Paradental Stomatitis, a bout of anemia, poor sight and hearing). The lifespan of an average German Shepherd is 10-12 years. Al was over 14 1/2 years old (that's 100 in human years). He was a good dog. He will be missed.


Al The Dog


A Boy And His Dog - Spring 1991

Ally's Album: Month 4-5

Also, Ally's Album: Month 3-4 has been closed out.

My Daughter The Terrorist

A technique favored by the worst kind of terrorists is to set of a bomb in an area crowded with civilians. After the blast, rescue personal arrive on the scene to help the dying and wounded, and then these soulless people set off a second bomb to inflict casualties on the rescuers. Ally has studied and mastered their techniques. This evening a poop bomb went off upstairs. I moved in to apply aid, not too quickly because I knew there might be a second blast. There was and it horrible. I fought through the smell to give aid. My techniques were improving. I quickly changed the girl and stabilized the situation. Then, a third blast. Thankfully, the damage was contained, but this girl is becoming more sophisticated and dangerous. Multiple blasts carrying greater force. After the unfortunate cat enema after-blast, I'm becoming an expert in poopoterrorism. Constant vigilance is my motto.

It Wasn't Human

So Sam, our cat, has not been feeling well lately, which has kept the poopsmith quite busy. Early this evening I took him to the Vet, which if you know Sam, you know wasn't a pleasant experience. Lots of hissing. Diagnosis: Constipation. Prescription: Cat Enema. I left Sam at the Vet, and he was ready a couple of hours later. The written report said, "Sam was quite 'full' but the enema cleared most of it out." I soon discovered what they didn't get out had my name all over it. Sam and I returned home. After dinner I was downstairs and got a whiff of something awful. I turned around only to discover lots of feline diaria on the floor, plus Sam was throwing up foam. Smell literally from the depths of his bowels. It wasn't human. "No, for real, the Poopsmith is a good guy, he's just got a crappy job."

Look Out Bob Barker, There's A New Sheriff In Town

Audio not safe for work: The Pat O’Brien Scorecard

Second Job

Dog poop. Cat poop. Ally poop. I am The Poopsmith.