Every year when this time of year rolls around I get a soft spot deep in the cockles of my heart to listen to Faith No More's "King For A Day/Fool For A Lifetime" cd nonstop. This year marks the 10th anniversary of my being fortunate enough to see them on that tour with Lance, Tim, Scott, and the rest of my buddies at an outdoor music festival where I also was lucky enough to see The Ramones on one of their last tours - a show which forever changed my life as I know it. If I would have stayed home from that, I would have to travel back in time to kick my own ass.
I consider "King For A Day" to be one of the best heavy CDs made in the last 20 years, hands down. I actually go through withdrawal if I go too long without listening to it or loan it to somebody. If you have the means and want to hear a CD crammed full of amazingly diverse yet accessible heavy music, I highly suggest you drop everything you're doing and go buy this CD now. Sell your Korn and Incubus CDs if you need to in order to buy it, as you won't need them anymore. I'll even give you a direct link to purchase it - here you go.
The first time I "King For A Day" it sucked me in from the first to the very last note and I became a changed musician because of it. I remember where I was the first time I heard it - screwing off with Lance in the stockroom of Target on 3rd shift. I tore the cellophane off of the CD and popped it in the stereo and we both stood there in awe. Even the stereo itself was a bit shocked, methinks. The planets aligned when it was recorded and a masterpiece was made. This CD does no wrong in my book other than not being double in length. The band sounded phenomenal and as anyone who has listened to it knows, Mike Patton's vocals and lyrics are something to make any vocalist out there go running to hide under their beds and suck their thumbs. It never lets up on treading the thin line of being really wrecklessly f*&ked up yet digestible, tight and groovy all at once and I don't know how they did it.
What makes me sad is that no one (with the exception of a lot of my musician friends, and you know who you are) seems to even know about this record. They always did well overseas and got a lot of the acclaim and respect they deserved, but it never seemed to happen here in the dumbass American heavy music market. This record has nearly everything you could ask for on it and then some, and it doesn't ever seem like it will sound dated - it just kind of stands in a world of its own. Why people didn't gobble it up when it came out is beyond me... it's hard to know that and hear so many blatant ripoffs that have come out since that have done much better on the charts.
Chances are we'll never see FNM together again, but they done real good on this release and no other band will ever be able to come close to making anything this good in the near or distant future. This isn't my opinion, it's just the way it is whether you like it or not. So yeah - you should go out, buy it, pop it in and turn your volume up as high as your eardrums can muster, and listen to it a lot please.
And then once you have a firm grip on the magic that album provides and "get" what Faith No More was doing way ahead of their time, you need to go out and buy their next release "Album of the Year". And then anything else they've done... "Angel Dust" is the next one that comes to mind. That's an order, dammit!
Don't look at me - I'm ugly in the morning.
Sunday, August 7, 2005
Friday, August 5, 2005
It's forever 9:43:38
I'm a little confused. Since band practice last night, the time has been 9:43:38. It must have happened while we were in the midst of rehearsing our hit song "Weird Beard Rides Again". I looked at my watch and thought, "Hm, that's a might bit peculiar.. it was 9:43:38 a few minutes ago."
At the end of practice, it was still 9:43:38. When I went to bed it was still 9:43:38. I woke up this morning and guess what time it was? 9:43:38. And right now as I type this? Yep, 9:43:38.
This is the longest second I've ever experienced in my life. I sure am getting a lot accomplished in this 38th second - I've gone to band practice, went to bed, taken the doggy out to poop, seen our neighbor's toilet paper tail, gone to a coffee shop and updated my resume... man, this is awesome. I wonder if I've stopped aging as a result of this?
As my grandpa would say, going by everyone else's clocks, at least my watch displays the correct time twice a day. But I don't go by everyone else's clocks - I go by my watch because of its concise, easy to read dashes. I'm not sure why it stopped working, but maybe this is a sign. A sign that if I want to cause trouble at no expense, perhaps time has suspended itself for me and now's a better time than ever to live like a madman.
If you are a person I've been in contact with in regards to hooking up at a specific time, please bump it to 9:43:39 or shortly thereafter if you would be so kind, because I have a lot of living left to do in this current second. Nothing personal, but I don't want anyone cutting into my fun time, as I may never have this chance again to stretch a single second out so far.
The first thing on my list of things to do: Go and loot nearest music store.
After taking care of several other things on my 38th second laundry list of fun, the last thing on my list will be to go to Walgreens and buy a new watch battery.
At the end of practice, it was still 9:43:38. When I went to bed it was still 9:43:38. I woke up this morning and guess what time it was? 9:43:38. And right now as I type this? Yep, 9:43:38.
This is the longest second I've ever experienced in my life. I sure am getting a lot accomplished in this 38th second - I've gone to band practice, went to bed, taken the doggy out to poop, seen our neighbor's toilet paper tail, gone to a coffee shop and updated my resume... man, this is awesome. I wonder if I've stopped aging as a result of this?
As my grandpa would say, going by everyone else's clocks, at least my watch displays the correct time twice a day. But I don't go by everyone else's clocks - I go by my watch because of its concise, easy to read dashes. I'm not sure why it stopped working, but maybe this is a sign. A sign that if I want to cause trouble at no expense, perhaps time has suspended itself for me and now's a better time than ever to live like a madman.
If you are a person I've been in contact with in regards to hooking up at a specific time, please bump it to 9:43:39 or shortly thereafter if you would be so kind, because I have a lot of living left to do in this current second. Nothing personal, but I don't want anyone cutting into my fun time, as I may never have this chance again to stretch a single second out so far.
The first thing on my list of things to do: Go and loot nearest music store.
After taking care of several other things on my 38th second laundry list of fun, the last thing on my list will be to go to Walgreens and buy a new watch battery.
A Toilet Paper Tale... I mean, "Tail"
I was chit chatting with a neighbor this morning and when he turned around to walk into his abode, I noticed a perfectly centered 3 foot strand of toilet paper hanging out the back of his trousers looking like a big ol' stick of chewing gum. It trailed behind him in the swift breeze created by his stride like a comet and I was in such awe that thankfully I didn't laugh. For those of you wondering: the portion hanging out of his pants, at least, was unused.
I've always heard about it and have seen it on hidden camera shows, but did not know this really happened! It was awesome. How exactly does this happen? Most people fold or crumple when they make boom boom (I am a crumpler) which puts your Toilet Paper Tail Risk at slim to none. You can't very well get the job done with a 5 foot long unaltered strip, can you? If so, let me know how, 'cause I honestly can't put it together in my head.
I started wondering if Oprah was filming another show on honesty where she'd purposefully plant such a thing on a subject, make him or her walk out in public and see if innocent strangers would be kind enough to let the person know "Um, sir, you have a big strand of asswipe trailing out of your pants.."
If that is the case, I failed. I hope there was a hidden camera, as I'd pay good money to see my facial expression upon first glimpse of the tail. Better yet, I'd like to see our neighbor with the tail again on tape, 'cause it was so damn funny.
*****
In other news, I realized my daily blog hits nearly quadruple when I talk about current events due to it showing up in search engine queries and such. I want my hits to nearly quadruple today, so let me state for the record that the Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt breakup is tearing me apart. I can't sleep anymore knowing that he's running around with that slutty devil worshipping Angelina Jolie while Jennifer is at home weeping with nowhere to go. Sure, Angelina has some fatass lips. Big deal. She wasn't on the so-white-it-was-clear NBC hit sitcom Friends, now, was she? That's a way cooler claim to fame if you ask me.
Regardless, I must state this to Mr. Pitt: Once you've had your way with Angelina and hang her out to dry, I'm all yours, baby. I've had my eye on you since Thelma and Louise. Reeeeow!
I've always heard about it and have seen it on hidden camera shows, but did not know this really happened! It was awesome. How exactly does this happen? Most people fold or crumple when they make boom boom (I am a crumpler) which puts your Toilet Paper Tail Risk at slim to none. You can't very well get the job done with a 5 foot long unaltered strip, can you? If so, let me know how, 'cause I honestly can't put it together in my head.
I started wondering if Oprah was filming another show on honesty where she'd purposefully plant such a thing on a subject, make him or her walk out in public and see if innocent strangers would be kind enough to let the person know "Um, sir, you have a big strand of asswipe trailing out of your pants.."
If that is the case, I failed. I hope there was a hidden camera, as I'd pay good money to see my facial expression upon first glimpse of the tail. Better yet, I'd like to see our neighbor with the tail again on tape, 'cause it was so damn funny.
*****
In other news, I realized my daily blog hits nearly quadruple when I talk about current events due to it showing up in search engine queries and such. I want my hits to nearly quadruple today, so let me state for the record that the Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt breakup is tearing me apart. I can't sleep anymore knowing that he's running around with that slutty devil worshipping Angelina Jolie while Jennifer is at home weeping with nowhere to go. Sure, Angelina has some fatass lips. Big deal. She wasn't on the so-white-it-was-clear NBC hit sitcom Friends, now, was she? That's a way cooler claim to fame if you ask me.
Regardless, I must state this to Mr. Pitt: Once you've had your way with Angelina and hang her out to dry, I'm all yours, baby. I've had my eye on you since Thelma and Louise. Reeeeow!
Thursday, August 4, 2005
Toothpaste = empty calories?
I think toothpaste should have nutritional information displayed on each and every tube. I'm trying to watch my calories and every time I get on the scale feel that I should be losing more weight than I am. I recently made a comprehensive list of everything I put into my face and the only thing I can think of that hasn't yet been factored into my caloric intake is toothpaste.
I'm guessing that the semi-translucent gel toothpaste has less fat than the solid white or blue colored pastes, but more sugar. Vice versa with non-gel toothpaste. If that's the case, I'm currently using Aquafresh and that is 50/50. With equal amounts of sugar and fat, Aquafresh could very well be one of the least healthy toothpastes out on the market right now. It's like I'm brushing my teeth with a donut or something.
And what about all of the vast flavors of toothpaste developed for children - you've got berry, bubblegum, grape...? That stuff must be loaded with calories, cause it tastes so damn good.
If toothpaste is as unhealthy as I'm making it out to be, then it's time for the manufacturers to jump on the low cal bandwagon and start using Splenda in their recipes.
Maybe I'll try and make some homemade toothpaste. With Splenda. There's got to be a way to knock the calories out of this stuff yet retain at least a fraction of the delicious flavor. I'll start with some water, because water is in everything. Then thicken it up with flour (sorry, Atkins diet subscribers) and a touch of baking soda until it forms a dough-like consistency. Baking soda is low-cal and often praised on toothpaste packaging as an active ingredient. I know there's a line of sugar free flavored syrups out there with Splenda.. those will be the secret behind what gives my homemade toothpaste such a healthy yet appealing flavor.
I'm not sure what I'll keep my homemade toothpaste in, as it would probably be pretty hard to try and get it into a used tube. I guess I could heat it up and then pour it into a baster, refridgerate it until it's firm again and then try it out.
Yeah, that's what I'll do. Pardon me, I've got some homemade toothpaste to make.
I'm guessing that the semi-translucent gel toothpaste has less fat than the solid white or blue colored pastes, but more sugar. Vice versa with non-gel toothpaste. If that's the case, I'm currently using Aquafresh and that is 50/50. With equal amounts of sugar and fat, Aquafresh could very well be one of the least healthy toothpastes out on the market right now. It's like I'm brushing my teeth with a donut or something.
And what about all of the vast flavors of toothpaste developed for children - you've got berry, bubblegum, grape...? That stuff must be loaded with calories, cause it tastes so damn good.
If toothpaste is as unhealthy as I'm making it out to be, then it's time for the manufacturers to jump on the low cal bandwagon and start using Splenda in their recipes.
Maybe I'll try and make some homemade toothpaste. With Splenda. There's got to be a way to knock the calories out of this stuff yet retain at least a fraction of the delicious flavor. I'll start with some water, because water is in everything. Then thicken it up with flour (sorry, Atkins diet subscribers) and a touch of baking soda until it forms a dough-like consistency. Baking soda is low-cal and often praised on toothpaste packaging as an active ingredient. I know there's a line of sugar free flavored syrups out there with Splenda.. those will be the secret behind what gives my homemade toothpaste such a healthy yet appealing flavor.
I'm not sure what I'll keep my homemade toothpaste in, as it would probably be pretty hard to try and get it into a used tube. I guess I could heat it up and then pour it into a baster, refridgerate it until it's firm again and then try it out.
Yeah, that's what I'll do. Pardon me, I've got some homemade toothpaste to make.
Wednesday, August 3, 2005
I Don't Want To Be an "I Want To Be a Hilton" fan
Dude... I was watching "I Want To Be A Hilton" yesterday and suddenly found myself starting to take it seriously and felt a competitive energy start to build up in my belly for a few of the contestants.
Not. Good.
I have tuned into this show by accident the past couple of weeks while waiting for the "I Want To Sing For INXS" show to start because I'm addicted to it but never know when it's going to be on. It's on Monday through Wednesday nights, starts at a different time each night, and some nights it's on longer than others. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank CBS for their consistent, easy to follow programming. Perhaps they should start displaying their schedules during MENSA meetings and once those people have deciphered them they could translate the listings into something I could understand and follow.
So anyways, yeah, after a few weeks of catching the last 15 minutes of the Hilton show, I've been fished in. And I can't figure out why. Something's gone seriously wrong, here. My standards are pretty low already when it comes to watching TV, but this show is pretty low and I have this irresistible urge to find out what happens next week. I will try my hardest not to watch it, but can make no guarantees.
"Hell's Kitchen" season finale was on Monday and I'm on that show as well. I think it's time to get a Netflix membership before the next batch of reality shows start this Fall. Or maybe I should actually get off my ass, go outside and do something productive.
On second thought I did just see an ad for the new season of "The Apprentice" starting in September and last season was pretty damn sweet. And then the Martha Stewart Apprentice spinoff is kicking off as well.
Um...
Dear Me:
You called and You want your pride back.
Sincerely,
Yourself
Not. Good.
I have tuned into this show by accident the past couple of weeks while waiting for the "I Want To Sing For INXS" show to start because I'm addicted to it but never know when it's going to be on. It's on Monday through Wednesday nights, starts at a different time each night, and some nights it's on longer than others. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank CBS for their consistent, easy to follow programming. Perhaps they should start displaying their schedules during MENSA meetings and once those people have deciphered them they could translate the listings into something I could understand and follow.
So anyways, yeah, after a few weeks of catching the last 15 minutes of the Hilton show, I've been fished in. And I can't figure out why. Something's gone seriously wrong, here. My standards are pretty low already when it comes to watching TV, but this show is pretty low and I have this irresistible urge to find out what happens next week. I will try my hardest not to watch it, but can make no guarantees.
"Hell's Kitchen" season finale was on Monday and I'm on that show as well. I think it's time to get a Netflix membership before the next batch of reality shows start this Fall. Or maybe I should actually get off my ass, go outside and do something productive.
On second thought I did just see an ad for the new season of "The Apprentice" starting in September and last season was pretty damn sweet. And then the Martha Stewart Apprentice spinoff is kicking off as well.
Um...
Dear Me:
You called and You want your pride back.
Sincerely,
Yourself
Tuesday, August 2, 2005
Apparently I make for good chigger meat.
As many of you may remember, I had me a mean case of chigger bites last month while staying at my parent's house out in the country. I tried to count all of my bites at the pinnacle of what I call Rancho Relaxo Chiggerfest 2005 (see: The Herpes of Nature) and lost track after 60. And no, that ain't no exaggeration, folks.. Take a little stroll through my parent's land and see for yourself. I can guaran-f'in-tee you you'll be scratching your ankles, legs, and nether-regions to a bloody pulp within 48 hours. Word of advice: don't scratch chigger bites with your nails - I suggest you skip that step altogether and just go out and buy yourself a good cheese grater to use instead. It provides a way more intensely satisfying scratch and gets down to the sinew and bone much more quickly than fingernails can.
A few weeks ago I migrated back to city and my skin was eventually restored to its original healthy chigger-free condition. Only a few small slightly visible red marks have taken the place of those 60+ itchy little sunsabitches that once made my life Living Hell on Earth.
My brother Chuck stopped over the other night to watch some movies with us and drop off some things I left at my parents during my stay there. He had just flown into town that day and was at our parent's for maybe 2-3 hours tops prior to coming out to Minneapolis to spend some quality time with his two favorite people in the world, Mr. and Mrs. Awesome (yours truly and Kimb). Fun was had and Chuck went home.
The next day, something resembling a chigger bite appeared on my ankle. And then another one. Now there's one more on my knee. How did this happen?! Did a few chiggers latch onto Chuck because they knew where he was going and they missed me? It's not like we rubbed our bare ankles together or were cuddling on the couch together naked or anything - at least not that I can remember. Such family behavior only commences after Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner. Yet here I am with 3 fresh chigger bites on my person and no explanation of how they got there. Kimb is still 0 for 0 in the chigger bite charts and I don't know how she's come this far without any harm. If I were a chigger, I'd much rather burrow myself into soft girl skin over icky, hairy man skin. Any day. Chiggers are f*&kin' stoopid.
I'm guessing I must have put some socks on that may have been laundered at my parent's and there still may have been a few hangers on living on them. I thought I had quarantined and re-washed everything that I had used at the Ranch in the toxic Minneapolis waters upon my return to this fine city. But now that I think of it, I had a pair of socks in my backpack that I think I wore on Sunday when Chuck came over.
It could very well be that we had a cootie flying about in our bedroom that feasted upon me late at night. Last night before falling asleep we spotted one bobbing around like an idiot on the perimeter of the bedroom ceiling. Nothing makes you feel relaxed and ready for a good night's sleep like seeing a big fat mosquito lurking above your bed. All they see when they watch you shut out the lights is the word DINNER! blinking over and over again.
Whenever I'm out with a group of people, bugs will find and chew on me first. OFF! needs to make a special Micycle formula spray that masks my bug attracting pheromones. I would also prefer that it smell like gummy bears and could double as a non-stick cooking spray if that would be at all possible.
Only a short amount of time will tell whether these are chigger bites or just your standard issue urban summer cootie bites from a mosquito or something of the likes thereof. I'll be sure to keep you all posted, because I know you're all dying to know about how many bug bites I have and whether they're the painful lingering weeping kind or not.
A few weeks ago I migrated back to city and my skin was eventually restored to its original healthy chigger-free condition. Only a few small slightly visible red marks have taken the place of those 60+ itchy little sunsabitches that once made my life Living Hell on Earth.
My brother Chuck stopped over the other night to watch some movies with us and drop off some things I left at my parents during my stay there. He had just flown into town that day and was at our parent's for maybe 2-3 hours tops prior to coming out to Minneapolis to spend some quality time with his two favorite people in the world, Mr. and Mrs. Awesome (yours truly and Kimb). Fun was had and Chuck went home.
The next day, something resembling a chigger bite appeared on my ankle. And then another one. Now there's one more on my knee. How did this happen?! Did a few chiggers latch onto Chuck because they knew where he was going and they missed me? It's not like we rubbed our bare ankles together or were cuddling on the couch together naked or anything - at least not that I can remember. Such family behavior only commences after Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner. Yet here I am with 3 fresh chigger bites on my person and no explanation of how they got there. Kimb is still 0 for 0 in the chigger bite charts and I don't know how she's come this far without any harm. If I were a chigger, I'd much rather burrow myself into soft girl skin over icky, hairy man skin. Any day. Chiggers are f*&kin' stoopid.
I'm guessing I must have put some socks on that may have been laundered at my parent's and there still may have been a few hangers on living on them. I thought I had quarantined and re-washed everything that I had used at the Ranch in the toxic Minneapolis waters upon my return to this fine city. But now that I think of it, I had a pair of socks in my backpack that I think I wore on Sunday when Chuck came over.
It could very well be that we had a cootie flying about in our bedroom that feasted upon me late at night. Last night before falling asleep we spotted one bobbing around like an idiot on the perimeter of the bedroom ceiling. Nothing makes you feel relaxed and ready for a good night's sleep like seeing a big fat mosquito lurking above your bed. All they see when they watch you shut out the lights is the word DINNER! blinking over and over again.
Whenever I'm out with a group of people, bugs will find and chew on me first. OFF! needs to make a special Micycle formula spray that masks my bug attracting pheromones. I would also prefer that it smell like gummy bears and could double as a non-stick cooking spray if that would be at all possible.
Only a short amount of time will tell whether these are chigger bites or just your standard issue urban summer cootie bites from a mosquito or something of the likes thereof. I'll be sure to keep you all posted, because I know you're all dying to know about how many bug bites I have and whether they're the painful lingering weeping kind or not.
Monday, August 1, 2005
Squeakless Squeaky Toy
Our doggy Beans is a fan of the squeaky toys. Moreso than most dogs I've known. Recently I have come to the conclusion that like a dolphin, she uses her squeaks as a form of communication. I know this because I rented a dolphin squeak decoder from the place down the street and have been processing her squeaky toy noises through it. Here's a few translated quotes I've received thus far:
"I know you're on the phone right now, but I don't care and am going to squeak this thing anyways."
"I sure am cute with this dirty pheasant toy in my mouth, aren't I? Listen - when I bite on it, it makes a noise!"
"I am going to accompany this television show you're trying to watch with some squeaking!"
"Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning!"
"Kimb's here! Kimb's here! Kimb's here!"
"I just ate out of the catbox and hope that this squeaky toy will help alleviate the strange taste in my mouth!"
"Boy, that walk was fun!"
"I want to eat our neighbor's lawn!"
Those are just a few.
Seeing that her squeaking sessions can last up to 5-10 minutes in one sitting, I've decided that maybe there can be a way for her to get her squeak on while at the same time not driving me to the point of wanting to drop kick the squeakies into a busy intersection for them to meet their makers. All I'm looking for is an occasional moment of silence so I can regroup every now and then.
After putting my thinking cap on, I've figured it out! I'm going to develop a squeaker that still squeaks loud and clear, but only does so at dog whistle pitch. Dog whistles are barely audible to the human ear, but dogs can certainly hear them (they're called dog whistles, for crying out loud). If Beans were to squeak something I could not hear, I would actually encourage her to squeak like she's never squeaked before rather than start to tweak after a couple of minutes. I would buy her so many squeaky toys that our place would look like those rooms that kids play in that are full of plastic balls. It would be like swimming in squeaky toys 24/7. There would be so many squeaky toys that we'd need snorkeling gear to ensure we'd be getting adequate amounts of oxygen. Other dogs would be jealous of all the squeakies Beans would have. We would get rid of the furniture because all we'd have to do when we wanted to sit is shovel a big pile of squeaky toys together and plop down. And of course they would all squeak and this would make Beans happy. I would buy so many that it would be safe to say there'd be a 5 to 6 foot accumulation of squeakies within one week's time. Even I would pick one up with my mouth and squeak it on occasion if that were the case. We could conduct strange experiments on the squeaky toys and still have an abundance of them leftover for Beans to play with.
I'm starting to like this idea! I'm contacting Hartz first thing in the morning and selling this idea to them.
Then after that, I'm going to develop a box spring that my cat won't want to crawl into and sharpen his claws at 2 in the morning on a daily basis. And a cat litter box that smells like fresh baked bread immediately after being eliminated in.
One thing a a time, though.
"I know you're on the phone right now, but I don't care and am going to squeak this thing anyways."
"I sure am cute with this dirty pheasant toy in my mouth, aren't I? Listen - when I bite on it, it makes a noise!"
"I am going to accompany this television show you're trying to watch with some squeaking!"
"Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Good morning!"
"Kimb's here! Kimb's here! Kimb's here!"
"I just ate out of the catbox and hope that this squeaky toy will help alleviate the strange taste in my mouth!"
"Boy, that walk was fun!"
"I want to eat our neighbor's lawn!"
Those are just a few.
Seeing that her squeaking sessions can last up to 5-10 minutes in one sitting, I've decided that maybe there can be a way for her to get her squeak on while at the same time not driving me to the point of wanting to drop kick the squeakies into a busy intersection for them to meet their makers. All I'm looking for is an occasional moment of silence so I can regroup every now and then.
After putting my thinking cap on, I've figured it out! I'm going to develop a squeaker that still squeaks loud and clear, but only does so at dog whistle pitch. Dog whistles are barely audible to the human ear, but dogs can certainly hear them (they're called dog whistles, for crying out loud). If Beans were to squeak something I could not hear, I would actually encourage her to squeak like she's never squeaked before rather than start to tweak after a couple of minutes. I would buy her so many squeaky toys that our place would look like those rooms that kids play in that are full of plastic balls. It would be like swimming in squeaky toys 24/7. There would be so many squeaky toys that we'd need snorkeling gear to ensure we'd be getting adequate amounts of oxygen. Other dogs would be jealous of all the squeakies Beans would have. We would get rid of the furniture because all we'd have to do when we wanted to sit is shovel a big pile of squeaky toys together and plop down. And of course they would all squeak and this would make Beans happy. I would buy so many that it would be safe to say there'd be a 5 to 6 foot accumulation of squeakies within one week's time. Even I would pick one up with my mouth and squeak it on occasion if that were the case. We could conduct strange experiments on the squeaky toys and still have an abundance of them leftover for Beans to play with.
I'm starting to like this idea! I'm contacting Hartz first thing in the morning and selling this idea to them.
Then after that, I'm going to develop a box spring that my cat won't want to crawl into and sharpen his claws at 2 in the morning on a daily basis. And a cat litter box that smells like fresh baked bread immediately after being eliminated in.
One thing a a time, though.
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