Did you ever dream that you were a dog agility super champ except then it switched and you were at some germy, grungy, derelict seaside park in the dark and the carnies were actually drug addled zombies that were shambling after you with hammers and their big teeth? And then as you're trying to escape your way out from under their oily, horrible claws by clambering up a rat infested palm tree, you're all, this is about dog agility like, how?
17 January 2009
Hello from our vacation!
Team Small Dog is on vacation! That's right, we're all on a beautiful island in the Caribbean. The dogs are running amuck on the white sandy beach that goes on for a hundred miles and they bring us giant omlettes with swiss cheese and spinach and peppers right to the veranda and whatever cocktail you want. Mimosas for breakfast, and these fruity things with pineapple on sticks and rum in them. And sandwiches. Magnificent, towering sandwiches. All we have to do all day is walk on the beach and lay in the coconut field during the rain showers. No one else is here except us, and at night it's so quiet and starry and warm and all you can hear is the sea which never boils or rumbles or flings bloody seal carcasses to our doorstep. It's the quiet kind and it just makes nice sounds. Only nice sounds. And did I mention the sandwiches and the sky blue sky, stretching from left to right and all I have to do all day is to sit quietly and look at it and then take a nap.
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4 comments:
What's a vacation without at least one bloody seal carcas for the team to roll in?
Where are you, really?
Um, coconut field? Sandwich land? A place where everything is so very, very nice? Yes. This is where I am.
So the drugs are finally kicking in, eh?
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