#10 – A Shitty Excuse for a Dog

I got a puppy for father’s day this year, or so it would seem. No doubt guilt-ridden over her role in Oedipus’ disappearance, Sophia presented me with a tiny, squirming ball of fur this morning. She told me “I know you’ve wanted a dog for a long time, and we don’t have kids of our own, so Happy Father’s Day!” It’s safe to say my response wasn’t precisely the one she expected: “A dog? That’s great! Is this undersized rat the bait to catch it?”

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#11 – In Training

Today’s post is a three-parter. Last night, I wrote the first section. I typed up the final part at 4:30 this afternoon. And the photos in the middle? Well, those I took over the course of the day, the exceedingly long day. Part I – The Plan. Sophia insists on sending Prometheus to obedience school. Naturally, I beg to differ.

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#13 – A Dip in the Pool

First, I suppose a short update on Prometheus’ education might be expected. Last night, I borrowed a set of dog training DVD’s from my neighbors (not Lucrecia and Hernando; we’ve avoided each other like the plague, since the afternoon everyone realized how badly I keep a secret). The video’s cover advertised the training method as foolproof. And while the series isn’t actually titled “Dog Training for Dummies,” that’s certainly the intended image. Knowing Prometheus and me, all I can say is, “We’ll see.” Moving on, the focus of today’s entry concerns my telephone call with Frank this morning. My wise-ass brother phoned to discuss our sister’s impending nuptials.

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#14 – Real Housewives, Lots of Them

I spent some time last night scrolling through the roster of recorded shows on our DVR, all the while bitching at Sophia (over the amount of storage space she’d hogged, taping episodes from every “Real Housewives” series in existence). In exasperation, I asked her “Honey, why must you watch the shows from every frigging city that trots out a group of rich, self-centered, silicone-enhanced bimbos? Can’t you pick one set of tarts, and leave space on the DVR for something even minutely less inane?”

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#16 – Holy Mary, Full of Grace, Among Other Things

I’m pretty sure the apocalypse is near. How do I know? Because, yesterday, my in-laws moved into their new home – down the street from ours – contravening my well-publicized vow that “I’ll live in the same neighborhood with my wife’s parents the day hell freezes over!” No good can come of this close proximity either. Ever since the disastrous initial meeting with the Gambino clan, my relationship with most of Sophia’s family has been a mite tenuous.

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#17 – The U.S. Mail – Through Rain, or Sleet … or Moles?

I received some sad news this morning. One of my best friends from college, Maryanne Phillips, called to tell me her father had passed. I told her the world had lost one of its great characters; and I meant it too, having spent a few memorable days in his company long ago, and having experienced, firsthand, the brunt of his unique brand of humor.

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#19 – Forget You? No, F**k You, Most Definitely!

I like the Cee Lo Green song, “Forget You.” I positively love its unsanitized version, “F**k You.” That’s the one I downloaded and burned a few weeks ago, along with some other current tunes I fancy. After popping the shiny new CD into my car’s player, I listened to it nonstop for a solid week. Then, in typical fashion, I forgot about it. Yesterday, the CD’s existence and contents were recalled to my attention by Sophia’s sister-in-law, Gina.

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