Smooth Like Butter <wrickeh> Hard Like Scotch

Let it be known that on the 29th day of August in the year 2000 aught 7, Dr. Swarlemagne VonBarkley III Esquire gained his certification as a beggining-level obedience trained puppy. Doubt me? BAM!

I went all Certificate of Achievement on your asses. But if you can't read it, perhaps this adorable hat will convince you! WA-PAAAAAH!

Oh yes, there was a graduation ceremony. Never let it be said that Petsmart has shame. First he had to pass his "final", which involved going around to different areas of the store to execute the various commands he's learned while that one frantic song played that's like

DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE
DEETLEE-dee-dee DEETLEE-dee-dee
DEE-dee DEE-dee DEE-dee DEE-dee
DEEEEEEEEEE <trom-boooooooone>
DEEEE DEEEE <trom-boooooooone>

And once he had passed, he got back to the training area for his Graduation Gift, which was his choice (soundtracked by the Final Jeopardy theme) of a blue rubber ball or a delicious pig ear. To the surprise of all he went for the animal flesh. After consuming his gift our trainer Jim spun up a little Pomp and Circumstance, adorned Swarleze's dome with the aforementioned adorable hat, and finally it was time to spend the next 15 minutes trying to keep his dome adorned with the aforementioned adorable hat. But Lizett couldn't make the ceremony, and it's long been her dream to see Swarles in a hat, so we made it work and keepsake photos were taken. Then I went outside and vomited for a while. In conclusion: FOOTBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALL!!

Here Come The Irish

T minus 2 days until my triumphant return to the midwest, and the excitement is mounting like painful gas. After months of severe football withdrawal followed by teasingly unsatisfying NFL preseason games, I am ready to blow and, consider yourself warned, the damage may be extensive. Things I am looking forward to besides the game itself:

1. Babies
2. Tiny plastic swords
3. The music of Vnak's laughter across 6 parking lots
4. Homemade Italian sausage
5. Amber Bock that's cold
6. Mothball's sweet embrace
7. Joker with a P
8. Wearing a sombrero and bandoleers to the HAA Tailgate
9. Yelling "Ai yi yi, mi cabeza!" throughout the ensuing beatdown
10. Not going to The Backer

There have been no developments of signifigance Texas-side, I'm afraid. Lizett and I have been locked in an epic battle for Nabisco Brand Mah-Jongg supremacy and spent two hours yesterday shopping for bubble pipes without success. You can't make this stuff up, and by can't I mean wouldn't ever.

WE. MAKE. HOLES IN TEETH. WE. MAKE. HOLES IN TEETH.

Thank you everyone for your hearty congratulations on my re-engagement, and your attempts to kill me with beer. While I will not be brutally murdering myself in the most vomity-way possible, I do look forward to enjoying a few frosty brews with what looks to be a very good crowd GT weekend. A few details, and brace yourself for number one:

AHHHHHHHH! An institution has died, and with it a small part of myself. The peepee. Don't call Georgia...it's best if they hear it from me. Far be it from me to invite anyone to a tailgate that I myself am only invited to by association, but I will likely be basing my operations at Angelo's party place, so I hope to see you there.

Second, we'll be meeting Jism w/fam and I would assume Mothball at CJ's Friday sometime before band practice, so if you're in the mood for the greatest burger you've ever had followed possibly by the most glorious bathroom experience of your life, give any of us a call that afternoon. Mmmmmmmm...superpub.

I had a dentist appointment this morning, and I'm afraid I have some very bad news. I...have a...cavity. I don't understand, I've NEVER had a cavity, how could this ever happen to me?? Two engagments dissolving before my eyes, sure, that's life. The time that guy told me I had beautiful eyes in the Corby's bathroom, a little disturbing, but he's only human. Even when all those Japanese dudes took turns kicking me in the junk, I accepted it as cosmic justice for that time I kicked all those other Japanese dudes in the junk. But a CAVITY? My toothbrush cost $120! I even use the special head with the floss tabs. This is an outrage, and I assure you Lizett will pay dearly for my molar's insolence.

In conclusion, I would like to state to the UT network administrators and the Texas government that any gay pornography you may have seen downloaded to my state-owned machine over my employer's network during work hours is NOT for recreational purposes, but rather the result of a very cleverly disguised link to rawmen.com, sent via IM from a certain someone who should be enjoying her last few moments of happiness before paying dearly for her insolence.

My Knees!

CCCHHHHHHHHHHH

AAAAHHHHH

CCCHHHHHHHHHHH

AAAAHHHHH

CCCHHHHHHHHHHH

AAAAHHHHH

CCCHHHHHHHHHHH

AAAAHHHHH

CCCHHHHHHHHHHH

AAAAHHHHH

CCCHHHHHHHHHHH

AAAAHHHHH

CCCHHHHHHHHHHH

AAAAHHHHH

REENGAGE'D

Bong.

My Triumphant Return

Work has been mad busy, and I only blog at work, so that's why I've been dead this past month. I'm still mildly busy, but I thought this photo of me and Lizett at the 02-03 Gator Bowl, recently rediscovered courtesy of one M. Sullivan, warranted a post:

What amuses me so is that we're wearing trash bags, apparently in a Dairy Queen(?), and I miraculously have absolutely no recollection whatsoever of the event. My ears look good though.

This past month has been largely dedicated to training Swarles. Dude is an IDIOT. He's very long but only seems to be aware of the front half of his body. He can also go from a full on sprint to a good old fashioned poopin'-squat INSTANTLY, defying all laws of physics and making me stumble over him flailing my arms like a chump. That's all I have to say about him for now, surely I'll expound on his moronic exploits in some future Swarley-centric post.

Who's going to the GT game? Lizett and I got tickets through her secret underground minority connections and the flights are booked so we'll be in Friday afternoon. JISM Church meeting time TBD. Also, no Mothball tailgates this year, so...someone have a tailgate.

My buddy Nemo is flying down today because he booked his flight for the wedding 72 months in advance and couldn't change it, so it's time to expose Texas to my oldest and most acerbically forthright friend. Here's hoping no one shoots him. As a bonus, he's flying into Houston, whereas we live in Austin, so there's two 6 hour round trips to pick his ass up right there. As a double bonus, Houston is due for a tropical storm today! BRING IT GOD!! Unless you don't have the guts.