Sushi

Then you're not doing it right, moony.

Thank you all.

Another great performance by John Malkovich was in "In The Line Of Fire". He is at least as good as Nicholson in playing the psycho/sociopath. "Blood Work" was pretty much a remake of the above, and not nearly as good. Admittedly, we knew the ending before, but this doesn't necessarily make for a bad movie.

Thank you all. Yes, it was a perfect day, other than having to go to work. We went to a Mehican restaurant for dinner. They had these wonderful things called Mexican Firecrackers. What they are is small flour tortillas with sour cream, jalapenos and bacon. which is then fried. Abi and I split a chicken fajita dish, while Aaron continued his chicken fetish with chicken fingers and french fries (or is that FREEDOM fries?). Jacob, on the other hand, had beef nachos. It was a wonderful meal with the people most important to me. To ask for anything more, would be criminal.

A DOG'S PRAYER Treat me kindly, my beloved master, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me. Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I should lick your hand between the blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me do. Speak to me often, for your voice is the world's sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footstep falls upon my waiting ear. When it is cold and wet, please take me inside, for I am now a domesticated animal, no longer used to bitter elements, and I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth... though had you no home, I would rather follow you through ice and snow than rest upon the softest pillow in the warmest home in all the land, for you are my god and I am your devoted worshipper. Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for although I should not reproach you were it dry, I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst. Feed me clean food, that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side, and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life, should your life be in danger. And, beloved master, should the Great Master see fit to deprive me of my health or sight, do not turn me away from you. Rather hold me gently in your arms as skilled hands grant me the merciful boon of eternal rest... and I will leave you knowing with the last breath I drew, my fate was ever safest in your hands.

Scrappy was part of Abi's family before I got here. Nonetheless, I am gratified to have had him be a part of my life. My Eulogy Today was Scrappy's last visit to the veterinarian. Scrappy is our oldest dog. He's an Australian Shepherd/Great Dane mix and, arguably, the most pathetic looking dog ever sired. You look up pathetic in the dictionary, and there will be a picture of him. When he was younger, I've been told he was a real terror. Eating couches and the like. Now, he's the senior citizen of our pack, about a hundred years old in human terms. His hearing is getting worse by the day and his sight is probably not far behind. Even though he's the elder statesmen of our little pack, he doesn't get the respect he deserves. He's usually under foot, just wanting a little attention, to get a little reminder that we still love him even though he's not the strong, independent dog he was in his younger days. Recently, he mostly laid around the house, getting up occasionally to go to the bathroom and eat. Thankfully, he makes it outside to eliminate. From time to time, he managed to go outside and bark at a few things only he can see. Sometimes he even played with our other two dogs, but this consisted mostly of barking at them while they're playing. I'm fairly certain this was annoying to him because I suspect, should I get to be his age, I will also be annoyed at not being able to do the things I used to. I like to consider myself an independent, strong, individual. Lately, though, he got a little too good at 'playing dead'. Every time I came home from work, or have been out of the house for a while, one of the first things I would check to see if he's still breathing. Sometimes, I would put a mirror by his nose. I started getting kind of annoyed at Scrappy. I know I shouldn't have, since his only crime was getting old. I look at him, and it seems like he was miserable most of the time. I'm willing to admit I'm doing a bit of anthropomorphizing. Maybe I'm trying to relieve my guilt at the prospect of witnessing him being put down. Whenever we would go away for even a couple of days, he didn't do too well. He would refuse to eat. Everyday, when I came home, I would do the breathing check. I would always be amazed when he showed up at the door upon my entering the house. When he didn't, I would go check on him. I wonder if our other two dogs are going to miss him. We also have a Siberian husky and a Jack Russel/Beagle mix dog. Nikki is the husky and Buster is the Jack Russel mix. It's tough watching someone/thing you love deteriorate. You want them to be the way you remember them. You want them to be young and full of life. But such is not always our lot in life. This lead to at least a modicum of resentment. I resented he was still around. I wished he would just not wake up one day. I know this is a selfish way of looking at it and I'm ashamed. The toughest thing to handle will be with the kids. He was the dog of the household since before they were born. His passing will be the first real experience with death they will have deal with, up close and personal. The kids have had other pets who have died, but those have been either birds, tree frogs, fish, etc., not 'real' pets. It will be tough for me since I don't have any solid beliefs as to what happens when people or things die. I like to think there's an eternal resting place where the righteous and animals go when they die, but since I really don't know, I don't know what to say to the kids when the inevitable happened. Maybe I'll go rent "All Dogs Go To Heaven". Today was Scrappy's last visit to the vet. The vet is going to give him a shot, one he won't wake up from. Scrappy was one of the first patients for this vet, and I'm sure it will be just as tough on him as it will be for us. I hope it's an overdose of happy medicine, because Scrappy deserves it. One of the ironic things about today was, it was the first time in the five years I've been here, I saw all the kids petting him, saying goodbye. I don't think they fully understand he's not coming back when he leaves their sight this afternoon. It's tragic when we don't make the time to fully appreciate the people/things around us. It's also heart rending to think it takes an event of this magnitude to wake us up to this cold, even brutal truth. I'm writing this upstairs, in order to avoid looking at Scrappy. I kind of hope he doesn't know what's coming, but perhaps he does, and is thankful for us being able to let him go. If he does know, I hope he's able to forgive us for what we did today. He will never be forgotten as long as we live. If there's such a thing as spirit, his will be haunting us for a long time. I'm sure there will be more than a few times I'll hear his bark, or see him out of a corner of my eye. And even though he wasn't technically my dog, I considered him as mine. He was one of the finest dogs I've ever known. [written at approximately 7 pm] I've just gotten back from the vet, because apparently you have to pay them for their service, if you want to call it that. I asked them if I could say goodbye, and they said of course. It took about ten minutes for them to be able to comply with my request. I was getting angrier by the second, because it seemed it was taking forever. When they let me know I could pay my respects, I went into the room. Scrappy was wrapped in a blanket, prepared for the long cold night ahead. I hope they don't take it away from him when/if theybury him. But they probably will. I told him what a good dog he was, how much we're going to miss him. That the kids probably aren't going to fully realize what happened for a few days. But when they do, they're probably going to be inconsolable. When they do ask, I guess I'll tell them he's in a much better place, where he doesn't feel any more pain, can run and jump like he used to when he was younger. I hope there is such a place for all of us.

As opposed to your "butts", Kathy?

Interesting. My connotation of facetiousness vs. sarcasm implies friendliness and degree. Facetious would be good hearted teasing as opposed to sarcasm, which is when you don't like the person to whom you are speaking (and believe me, I know from sarcasm ).

I know George is a big boy and all, and doesn't need my defense. But you fired the first salvo there (at least on this thread) Chas, as in: "Thanks for you input, Dr. Aar... whoops! You mean, you don't have M.D. after your name? So sorry. " The only thing I read in his post was to be wary. And just as an aside, I haven't noticed an MD after your name either, Chas. So sorry .

I've only glanced through here, and know I'm a damned unbeliever, but exactly are we to learn from this? Seems a lot of time and energy has been expended on this thread, and for the life of me, I can't understand why. What does it matter if Samson or Jesus were molested at one time in their lives? Is it going to make your walk stronger? To prove the 'inerrancy' of the "word"? It would seem to me, there are better ways to occupy your time, than 'straining at gnats'. If someone could explain this to me, I'd greatly appreciate it.

Were I to hazard a guess, it was the same guy who played a snowman in a classic Christmas video.

When a person talks to God, it's prayer. If God talks back, it's................ Schizophrenia.

For those anxiously awaitiing the answer to the riddle, the group was known as Buskin and Batteau. They also did the Be All You Can Be for the Army.

It doesn't make him eligible, because he's still around to reproduce. Risking death does not constitute eligibility. If memory serves, one actually has to die in the process, in order to protect the rest of the species from transmitting the 'stupid' gene. What are usually a redneck's last words? "Hey, get a load of THIS!!!" Guess I'm past you on the cynicism spectrum, George, cause I do find this stuff hilarious. I've done some pretty stupid stuff in my life and have lived to regret it.

I would be truly surprised if anyone else knew it, but, you've heard one of their commercials. It was for Chevrolet, The Heartbeat of America. I'll give it one more day, to give y'all a chance.

I thought I had a song about Annette Funicello by this duo, turns out I was wrong. So, just because, HERE!

You go to court for the results of a paternity test? :blink:

Dot, You may want to check out "The Zone Diet" then. Not having read the South Beach Diet book, I can't make a fair comparison. The Zone Diet is similar to South Beach, being a higher protein diet, from what I've heard. What the Zone diet has you do is to figure the amount of lean muscle, and eat accordingly. This way, once you reach your goal weight, you don't have to change the way you eat. The only exception might be, if you started doing resistance training, you would probably have to eat more, because of body composition changes.

Just another word of caution, while the test is not widely available, hair analysis can detect illegal drug presence for a few months afterwards. This means you don't even have to have partaken in the substance for it to be detected.

Ah, Occam's razor strikes again.

I think in the 70's.

"It's a fine Negro spiritual (can you still say "Negro"?)" Uh, no, George. The term now is African American.

I sit corrected.

If memory serves, Noah was 'molested' by his daughters while on a binge.

Sorry, I'm getting my football things mixed up (I'm not a sports fan). What I was alluding to was I thought it was going to be about Vince Lombardi who is purported to have said, "Winning is everything". What he actually said was, "Winning isn't everything, but wanting to win is" (from the official Vince Lombardi website).