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Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Summer is the Perfect Time for Black Dog 

Ah, the black dog. (If for some reason you think I am referring to the restaurant or whatever in Martha's Vineyard, please go here.)

No, the black dog of which I speak is the same merry canine that visited Winston Churchill. The dog weighs 1000 pounds. He's got dead eyes and bad breath. But he's special.

Unlike most dogs, this dog won't wake you in the morning. This dog will keep you in bed, standing firmly on your chest. This plucky pooch will have a seat and point out many useful things for you to regret. You'll never forget what you should have done when you got a black dog!

Walking in the park with your black dog can also be fun. He will keep other people away. When you walk by a couple, he will break the air with a howl. But, hey, he's just a dog, right?

If you're working too much, the black dog will help. He will snach work right out of your hand. You got too many meetings? The black dog will clear your day. Take some "you" time. Watch 6 hours of daytime TV. The black dog will remind you what the commercials imply about the expected viewing audience.

The black dog is a magical dog. He will show you the whirling, branching forks of what reality might have been, and exactly where you missed each one. Sometimes it's hard to write with all the barking.

The black dog sits in the sun and smells like garbage. Man's best friend, who couldn't love a black dog.

-Miguel Sanchez  12:12 EST | |

About us:

This weblog is an ongoing, if periodic, effort by several friends to stay in touch, in reading material, and in ideas.

Lucky Luciano is a former Italian Stallion real estate hustler and Benedict Arnold CEO turned shady lawyer-to-be. He lives in Denver.

Ben is a Paramedic and would-be philantropist who lives in Denver. He knows everything about nothing.

Fuzzy Dunlop lives in Manhattan. He is more than capable of standing up to the stresses of a high crime urban environment.

Jess is a teacher. But have YOU given her an apple? No, you haven't. You should be ashamed of yourself. This crazy feminist currently rests her copy of Awakening in Jersey City.

Matt is a pariah, iconoclast, and professor of gambling living in Oakland.

Miguel Sanchez is not Lionel Hutz.

Daddy Brooklyn lives in Brooklyn. He hates Republicans, though he wouldn't mind being ensconced in the landed elite of New York City.

Paul just smoked my eyelids and punched my cigarette.

Ziggy Stardust has no past.

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