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Who let the dogs out
Apr. 7th, 2008 12:50 amBeen away for a while, doing good deeds and having fun. A trip to PA this weekend to help Jeff's parents relocate and connect the washer and dryer from the basement to the upstairs living area was punctuated with dinner and a Hershey Bears hockey game on Saturday night. I was told beforehand that we will be participants in The Dog Pound, our buddies' rooting section for their new favorite player Jay Beagle (Get it? Beagle? I knew you could, just dont call him Snoopy) center for the Hershey Bears. Nothing much was different, save for hoots and hollers for Beagle thrown in with general cheers and jeers they would always yell down to the ice. Add to the ruckus an old, smelly man sitting to my left who would belt out nearly incomprehensible catcalls at the top of his lungs. "What dah?? You call that puck loaf of bread?? Tornado bicycles goal for the game!!! You cant titanic hubcap butternut squash!?!? Umbrella! UMBRELLA!!!!" Or something. I'd look over to our crew with a blank stare and a nod. They'd respond in kind. Everyone had a blast. Especially when the Bears came back with a 6-3 win over the Bridgeport Sound Tigers (What the heck is a 'sound tiger'? The opposite of an unsafe one?). A true hat trick in hockey parlance, with dozens of hats tossed onto the ice by cheering fans at the end of the game.
Here is the core of the Dog Pound, in all it's pre-game glory on the jumbo screens. Clicky to make with bigness:
Now, it is said that no good deed goes unpunished, and the recipient of said punishment was my car. Once again, less than a half mile from our destination on Friday night after over 130 miles, poor Kodi tossed his doggie dindin all over me, Jeff and the center console of The Strat, forcing me to unbolt and remove the seat to clean out the majority of the dawg hurl from under the seat and console. Add to that the spillage of a third of a huge, Costco-sized bottle of dishwashing liquid in the spare tire well and I was not a happy camper on Friday night. Sometime this week I will fill the spare tire well with water and use the resulting heavily soaped water to clean all the vehicles. The stuff is so thick and concentrated, it takes a lot of work to just rinse it out. It's soaked into the carpeting and the tire well cover as well. Yeck. Oh well, after the interior is cleaned to get rid of the reprocessed Alpo smell and the dishpan-hands trunk (I'm soaking in it), the car should smell pretty damn clean. It needs some interior detailing and a really good wash 'n' wax anyway.
Trying to catch up with past LJ entries is hopeless. If I missed something good, please let me know.
Here is the core of the Dog Pound, in all it's pre-game glory on the jumbo screens. Clicky to make with bigness:
Now, it is said that no good deed goes unpunished, and the recipient of said punishment was my car. Once again, less than a half mile from our destination on Friday night after over 130 miles, poor Kodi tossed his doggie dindin all over me, Jeff and the center console of The Strat, forcing me to unbolt and remove the seat to clean out the majority of the dawg hurl from under the seat and console. Add to that the spillage of a third of a huge, Costco-sized bottle of dishwashing liquid in the spare tire well and I was not a happy camper on Friday night. Sometime this week I will fill the spare tire well with water and use the resulting heavily soaped water to clean all the vehicles. The stuff is so thick and concentrated, it takes a lot of work to just rinse it out. It's soaked into the carpeting and the tire well cover as well. Yeck. Oh well, after the interior is cleaned to get rid of the reprocessed Alpo smell and the dishpan-hands trunk (I'm soaking in it), the car should smell pretty damn clean. It needs some interior detailing and a really good wash 'n' wax anyway.
Trying to catch up with past LJ entries is hopeless. If I missed something good, please let me know.
