As promised, what once were yellow and black are now white and tiger striped. The S&W survived a grueling trip to the groomers and are ready to strut their summer stuff. (That's the two of them in the door awaiting a pepperoni treat from me, hence the George Harrison post title). We just hit up the Green Beltway and showed all the neighborhood dogs their 'dos; my oh my, the other mutts are sure jealous. Then we returned to the apartment where Wrigley went insane. What does that look like?
Something like that. Seriously, dogs are cute and good to go; here's the remainder of the pics I snapped in the past five minutes to meet the monthly gratuitous pictures of my dogs quota:
I got in the spirit, too, and went over to Les Cuttes Superriore to shave down the sideburns. So we're collectively looking quite dapper here in the condo.
In other news, I got another letter from a lawyer dog, this one complaining that Belle was not permitted to make an artistic appearance in the Ballad the other day. So, here goes, Belle and superstar Malcolm, Nyetified and entitled Belle-colm Blues:
Almost forgot - today at the haircut, I noticed two things. First, I have now had my haircut by the same lady thrice. We have had more or less the exact same conversation about kids and education each time, always as a follow-up to her introductory, "So, where do you work?" question. This is fine - she's really nice, and my hair has been astonishingly awesome lately - but the Supercuts is turning into my own personal time warp. So next time I feel like I should have made a decision differently, I will get a haircut and return to February of 2008!!!
The 1.5th thing I noticed was that, wow, pop radio is terrible. And I don't mean "pop" music, I mean just that whole DJ-vibe of "Yeah, we're gonna throw on some Eagles, some Flock of Seagulls, and I think I feel like hearing some Snow Patrol today." As if this were some kinda impromptu, hey, what does the DJ feel like today equation and not some Soundscan computer output. Barf, I vomit on you commonplace entertainment! And yet, I continue to tune in (but only when I've forgotten to bring a CD).
The 2nd thing that I noticed was that when said Flock of Seagulls song came on ("I Ran," as if there were some other Flock of Seagulls song they might play - making the "some" qualifier from before even stupider), the intro has these swirling feedback guitar loops. And for the first time in my life - and I've heard that song about 1271 times, thank you 1980s-fetishists - I noticed that it's supposed to simulate the sound of seagulls on the beach. A "flock of seagulls." Now, if that isn't announcing your presence with authority, what is? So the challenge question - has any other band so subtle-ly referenced its own band name in a song? I'm sure there are examples, and I'm not talking about "Mike D" or "I don't believe in Beatles" or "And in this corner, weighing in at 850 lbs." type references; I mean subtler call-outs intrinsic to the music. Help me out here!
Hope everyone is enjoying their Wednesday. And by "everyone," I mean "only the people I know and/or who are reading this." The rest of you... MEH!!!
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Now playing: The Velvet Underground - White Light/White Heat
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