Gotta have balls
This weekend was a good one. Friday night I played a show. Saturday I slept in (till 10. weee) and had a lovely day of errands and last minute painting. Saturday night was poker and Basil Hayden whiskey. Today was a beautiful day with a balmy temperature around the high 30's. I didn't even need a sweatshirt under my jacket.
I headed over to the Red Dot gallery and dropped off all my pieces for the art show. A weight was lifted from my mind. I can focus on the few commissions I have left for this month as well as some pieces I've just been meaning to do for myself.
After dinner (taco night... bonus!) my friend Liz stopped by and brought me a gift for picking her up at the airport at midnight one night last week. Here it is:
Take a guess.
Nope.
It's a dog ball. A doberman ball.
Liz is a vet tech.
I have a history of asking for and randomly receiving strange gifts.
Years ago when my stepmother went to Ireland she asked what I wanted. I had no idea. What does Ireland make? I ended up asking for a shilelagh. She-lay-lee. Walking stick. It rules.
Couple years ago my buddy Shawn grabbed me THIS little gem when the record shop he worked at closed their doors for good....
Fantastic.
Last Christmas while hanging out with my mom in NC we ended up going to a huge huge huge outdoorsy hunting emporium. I told her I wanted an elk call. She shook her head in disbelief while the guy rang up my sweet elk call Christmas gift.
So a week or so ago while Liz was talking about her job I blurted "can you get me a dog ball?"
I have no idea what the hell I'm going to do with this thing, but I bet you don't have one on your desk. I'm sure my mom is shaking her head while reading this.
I headed over to the Red Dot gallery and dropped off all my pieces for the art show. A weight was lifted from my mind. I can focus on the few commissions I have left for this month as well as some pieces I've just been meaning to do for myself.
After dinner (taco night... bonus!) my friend Liz stopped by and brought me a gift for picking her up at the airport at midnight one night last week. Here it is:
Take a guess.
Nope.
It's a dog ball. A doberman ball.
Liz is a vet tech.
I have a history of asking for and randomly receiving strange gifts.
Years ago when my stepmother went to Ireland she asked what I wanted. I had no idea. What does Ireland make? I ended up asking for a shilelagh. She-lay-lee. Walking stick. It rules.
Couple years ago my buddy Shawn grabbed me THIS little gem when the record shop he worked at closed their doors for good....
Fantastic.
Last Christmas while hanging out with my mom in NC we ended up going to a huge huge huge outdoorsy hunting emporium. I told her I wanted an elk call. She shook her head in disbelief while the guy rang up my sweet elk call Christmas gift.
So a week or so ago while Liz was talking about her job I blurted "can you get me a dog ball?"
I have no idea what the hell I'm going to do with this thing, but I bet you don't have one on your desk. I'm sure my mom is shaking her head while reading this.
posted by Hooker at 12:40 AM
4 Comments:
I have a set of plaster teeth on my desk at work. My teeth. In plaster. In my filing cabinet I have a single hanging file, and in it is a shoelace. I'm sooooooper corporate.
Here are my teeth.
The dog ball is nice. Did you know you can fill the knobby end of a shillelagh with lead and use it as a cudgel?
That thing could have endless possibilities.
wow. and i'm not talking about the dog ball. i'm talking about the cobra cutout. does giovanni petruzziello know about this?
probably not. send him this way.
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