A Good Imagination and a Pile of Junk

So, my buddy’s got a brace of hounds and his wife has a fucking rat thing. The less said about the fucking rat thing the better.

The real dogs aren’t so much hounds as, well, dogs. A German Shepard named Princess and a Golden Lab named Lady.

The astute among you will discern from this that he also has two young daughters.

Anyway they’re my two favorite creatures currently walking the earth. And they, like a preponderance of domesticated beasts and small children seem to be quite taken with yours truly.

Never being one to let well enough alone I’ve bought a 2 pound bag of beggin strips which I keep in my passenger seat so I have treats when I head over. (They liked me before the yumminess.)

I put a few in my jacket pocket before I get out of the car. They each get one and Princess gets the third a couple minutes later because she’s my favorite. The fucking rat thing isn’t a dog. It doesn’t get treats. It’s treat is that I don’t kick it.

Anyway I tend to have one or two of these things in a jacket pocket as a result.

I have an awful lot of pockets.

So I was cleaning out my jacket pockets as I got home from the cigar lounge tonight, looking for my cell phone, which I haven’t seen since before I left to go there, and sitting on my desk next to me is a beggin strip.

It looks like fake bacon. Tofu bacon. Turkey bacon. It looks ALmost like bacon.

In fact, it looks JUST enough like bacon that it’s triggering my bacon center.

And it’s sitting there.

On my desk.

Staring.

At me.

Now… I’m not gonna.

But it calls.

It calls.

This entry was posted on Friday, January 13th, 2012 at 10:24 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.