Having rescued a dog, I wouldn’t seek to further our Tulip’s pain by grooming her to look like a camel, a peacock, or Jack Sparrow. But I know a few Steelers fans who might be interested in the below. Click on the pic to see examples of the aforementioned and other grooming feats just begging [...]
. a blogumn by Michael Kass Single man-nerds, hear me now: If you want to meet women, try stand-up comedy. Before I found stand-up, I’d tried everything. Well, maybe not everything. I never went to a dating seminar, for example. Nor had I tried the cultish techniques practiced by “pick-up artists” whose [...]
a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 12 Staged Fetch At the river Karin throws stick for Callie and Cricket, Red’s host dogs. He hobbles after but can’t catch them or get far enough into river. So She stages a fetch: throws it a foot and he grabs it, wags his tail, [...]
Oh, I love the slow build sloppiness of this song. Thanks so much to Michelle from London Times LA Moments for posting.
So I’m doing this diary in three line poems, for a year, here on this site. You may have seen it—it posts at noon each day, and we’re calling it “Three Line Lunch.”
What gives and why bother?
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So my father and stepmother came to visit Betty this weekend, which was interesting on a few levels. I think every girl worries about becoming like her mother and I’ve certainly inherited quite a few of my mother’s bad traits, including talking too much, worrying too much, overthinking too much, and fearing too much. But [...]
jenny from the Internet guessed correctly that Friday’s lyric was from “More Than a Feeling” by Boston, but happily for me, that point was not enough to give you the win, and I won the week. Hurrah! But let’s see how you do this week. Okay, first up classic Monday. One word clue: Showtune. And [...]
a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 12 Oldsters Forest 13 year old dog hobbles by thousand year old standing trees, the spring’s Green sorrel crawling around their feet. The scale of lives: tree, man, Beloved dog. I hoist exhausted Red to shoulder, carry him out. He smiles.
a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 11 Glimpses of North (Oakland to Mendocino) Green tree dotted yellow hills roll and sway under sun. Rock-pocked slope The road cuts through. Deep soul whole-body sigh Entering fragrant fern-carpeted deep dark cool towering redwood forest.
My father and stepmother are in town to meet Betty, so again no time for procrastination on my part, but do feel free to avail yourself of these gems in my absence: 1. This makes me happy that I just went with “Betty” for my child. [Home of the Urban Chameleon] 2. People try to [...]
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