Aaron the Dog

My dog met another dog named Lucy, today.  She was so small and coquettish.  They got along well.  He met her while he was playing with his best dog friend, Aaron.  Aaron and Franklin (my dog) were UFC fighting each other in a playground in Fort Greene, and then this woman came over with Lucy, and everyone had a blast.

Then I found out that Aaron has smegma leaking out of his penis.  Every day, my friend has to squeeze the green smegma out of there, by hand, in much the same way a farmer plies the udder of a cow.  Just pinching and tugging until the sludgy discharge is freed from its dick prison.  They took Aaron to the veterinarian to get it checked out, and the veterinarian lady said the smegma was not a problem unless Aaron's penis leaked more than a tablespoon a day.  A TABLESPOON a day.  I'm glad she used a cooking utensil as a point of reference for dog smegma.  I'll think of that next time I make pancakes.  "Mmm, this is delicious flapjack batter.  Could use a touch of dog smegma, though.  Quick, prepare the measuring spoons and your dog's crotch."

 Otherwise, Aaron is the picture of health.  He has such a shiny coat.      

Very Informative

I stayed up really late, because I took a huge nap until 10 PM.  Now look at me.  It's almost 6 AM.  I feel like a real jerksquad.

Earlier tonight, I ate exactly three chocolate chip cookies.  Then I received heartburn and was forced to medicate myself with Tums.  Tums are actually pretty effective, and they taste like weak Sweet Tarts, which means they taste pretty good.

I am embarrassed to say that I have completely lost my momentum with Moby-Dick.  I haven't been reading it regularly, at all, and, as a result, I am still about halfway through, even though I started reading it months ago.  The good news is that I went to Nantucket with my family and got to see all types of cool stuff regarding Melville's magnum opus.  I even went to the whaling museum and saw a huge sperm whale skeleton.  Sperm whales are prodigious leviathans, and they can destroy you, if they so desire.  I also saw a bent harpoon, alongside many straight harpoons and other whaling accoutrements.  Very rusty and old and heavy.  Also, they played this video about Nantucket, and it was very informative.  I just became overwhelmed by an urge not to explain the video at all, so we'll just leave it at that.

We went to a restaurant, on Nantucket, called Queequeg's.  Turns out it is not the type of place Queequeg would ever patronize.  It's basically just a fancy bar that sells expensive burgers.

You know what's good on Nantucket?  The pre-made sandwiches at Cumberland Farms.  I was pleasantly surprised by this.  Cumby's.  So good.  Tuna sammy.  Not too shabby, if you ask me.

Hey, check it out: I have this new job where I work in a warehouse and get to wear a hard hat sometimes.  It's awesome.  Forklifts possess such strength.  I can't believe it.  If you engage in horseplay near the working forklift, you risk immediate squish-death.

     

Aunt Charity and My Son Rick

Moby-Dick is coming along swimmingly.  I didn't read it today, but I read a bunch of it yesterday.  Ishmael and his pal, Queequeg, have boarded the Pequod, and they are getting ready to shove off.

This line, about a character named Aunt Charity, made me laugh: "And like a sister of charity did this charitable Aunt Charity bustle about hither and thither..."  Good use of repetition by Melville on that one.  And you can't go wrong with "hither and thither."  Good choice of words.  Well choiced.  I want to have twin sons and name them Hither and Thither.  Actually, Hither looks too much like it says Hitler.  For example: Hither was in Germany.  That's just a sentence about my son backpacking in Europe, but most people would read it as "Hitler was in Germany," which is a sentence about a ruthless dictator's location on the planet.  I'll just name my twins Thither and Rick.  "Hey, Thither, stop bustling about!" I'll say, "and don't kick Rick."    

I am excited for the Pequod to start its grand voyage into the Pacific.  Whaling seems fun.  I would whale.  Would you whale?  I would.  I'd ride on a whaling boat and poke a whale with a blubber pike.  The whale is an intimidating aquatic beast, but I would slash it to ribbons.  The sperm whale, that is.  I would murder a ferocious sperm whale.  I would never hurt a dolphin, though.  I've seen The Cove.  Good documentary.  Leave the dolphins alone to frolic and chuckle.  I could never stab a dolphin.  They're too cute and self-aware.  I hope Moby-Dick doesn't have a part where dolphins are slaughtered in a lagoon.  That would sadden me.  I was saddened by that part in The Cove, when the fishermen killed all the trapped dolphins.

The Fisherman's Platter is an expensive and unpopular meal that somehow makes it onto the menu of most diners. 

Adventure Quest

I didn't read Moby-Dick at all today.  I am such a blobmaestro. 

Man.  My dog is looking at me straight in the face right now.  He has a tawny pelt, like a she-lion.  His coat of butterscotch fur shines like a Werther's Original and smells like nachos.  I caress him on a regular basis.  Uhp, now he's barfing up yellow spume on the floor.  

Have you ever read King Solomon's Mines, by H. Rider Haggard?  They made a movie out of it, in the eighties, starring Richard Chamberlain.  I love Richard Chamberlain.  We have similar physiques and chest hair.  He was also in Shogun, the miniseries.  Great decapitation scene in that one.  Also, Richard Chamberlain gets peed on in that miniseries.

So King Solomon's Mines is a great book.  It's slightly racist, at times, but not too shabby, nevertheless.  It's actually really progressive for a book written in the late nineteenth century by a white guy.  It's considered a "romance," in that it is about some heroes going on an adventure quest in a foreign land.  There is some actual kissy, smoochy romance in it too, for example, the interracial love affair that develops between Captain Good and Foulata. 

They say that H. Rider Haggard wrote this book in about four months, after making a bet with his brother that he could write a better adventure story than Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island.  I can't tell whether or not he succeeded.  Great book, though.  Lots of exciting battle scenes and funny turns of phrase. 

If I wrote a book in four months, it would probably be way worse than King Solomon's Mines.  I know what it would be about, though.  It would be about a bike messenger who gets his thighs smushed by a dump truck, rendering him incapable of thrashing the streets.  It would be called, Because of the Squishing Force of that Truck, My Legs Are Like Those of a Ragdoll.