Pack of Two

I'm sad because my brother who turns 50 years old this week has been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. He said he was watching the movie Love and Other Drugs and that is how he diagnosed his condition. He has been going to the VA for different appointments with different specialists. He met with a neurologist who gave him the same diagnosis. Parkinson's.

Me and my peeps

When Bella and I went to the beach on Saturday, we were verbally accosted by a woman with a English bulldog on a leash. Bella attempted her usual cheerful Corgi greeting and Bella's greeting backfired BIG TIME. The woman hit me with a flurry of cuss words that in all my 55 years combined, I've never heard 'em all. I won't repeat them but will attempt a sort of recipe you too can follow when greeted by a corgi. First off,  use your imagination, considering the swear word possibilities. Begin with a loud shrieking bale starting with "You gawdamn blankety blank blank c*nt!" Then add the worst words you could call someone --- c*nt! unleash (pun!) a string of random name-calling Banshee wailing. Toss in words like 'stupid' and then add special phrases such as "What the eff is WRONG with you?"Add more screaming, tantrum-throwing, 30-something, short stocky woman, dragging her leashed bulldog, and quietly embarrassed husband, along for a lovely ocean stroll in the warm winter sun with tons of dogs and owners around, ranting at top lung power about *MY* being out of control. She screamed at me, "You think this is funny but you won't when my dog eats your dog!" And I said very softly, "I'm surprised you didn't eat her." That was pretty much all I said through the entire chaotic moment except when I bent over to pick up Bella, I asked the woman's husband if he could get some control of her?


The insanity ended with a final "I'm going to f*ck you up!"

I felt like I was in a gang. A gang of two. Later I realized that woman must have been really fearful. I couldn't think of any other rationale for her behavior because it sure as sh*t had nothing to do with me and my corgster, Bellybutton. 

Gib Me Sum Sugah

Last week I went to Costco for a few things - 1000 rolls of toilet paper and a triple pack of Pledge. On my way home I realized this triple pack could be my very last triple pack of Pledge that I buy in this lifetime. I'm not much of a duster and decided that a triple pack of Pledge would inspire me to dust rather than dust inspiring me to dust. I'm hoping that in my next life, when living in my mansion I won't have to buy Pledge or triple packs of anything though I also hope that in my next life I don't return as a particle of dust.


Bella and I went to the beach both days this weekend and didn't meet any doctors (that I could tell just by looking) (yet) though I met Peggy who told me she's 76 (and looks to be mid-60s). She owns a 7 month old Tibetan Terrier who's added "tremendous joy to [her] life."  Sunday I met Cathy who owns a corgi-humping mutt named Rufus. We had fun - mostly though I had to bathe Bella when we got home. Those humpers are really disgusting.


At Rio Del Mar, Bella still freaks about the hang-gliders so I have to watch out for them - springing off the cliffs, hovering over us, looming large and freakish, ready to attack my precious, frightened corg-ster. She hates kites too, and after a few vicious hang-gliders, she becomes suspicious of seagulls. One really can't avoid a seagull at the sea - I mean it's their main hang-out next to the parking lot at a ball game (where my friend Lib once killed a seagull by tossing it a gherkin). If the hang-gliders suddenly appear, Bella takes off down the beach like a rocket (on short legs) in the opposite direction (of me). Everyone watching on the beach most likely assumes I have beaten her while I shout "SHE'S NOT MY DOG!" as I chase after her.

Bella hurt herself running around, trying to herd all the other dogs. Today she's limping except when my sister took her for a walk - she appeared to be cured. Though as soon as she saw me again, the limp miraculously returned.

Late Sunday afternoon, Bradley came for a "bisit." He asked if we could go on a dwive on da woad to see the bon (barn) and the dinosaurs. First we went to the bon, as we drove by Bradley yelled out "Bye bye, bon, hope you don't get too skarwed." Then we drove to bisit the dinosaurs but some people were out there already bisiting the dinosaurs so Bradley yelled something about a Tyrannosaurus rex and roared at the bisitors outside the car window. 

Guess who should be inside the fenced area?

I decided to drive to nearby Summit store and buy Bradley an ice cream because a 2.5 year old needs more sugar. In the store parking lot there was a woman and a young girl yelling, "OMG it's a corgi!!" (Corgi-cheerleaders!) We left the corgi in the car and walked into the store and found the woman who screamed out OMGaCorgi! Bradley started yammering to the young girl about the dinosaurs, the dinosaurs egg, the baby dinosaur and the pterodactyl all the while the girl was looking at him, mouth agape. He w/could not shut up. Then he started jumping up and down which I think is OCD behavior. - He jumps up and down a lot. I. mean. a. lot! I'm not sure he can be stopped from jumping up and down or  talking about the dinosaurs to strangers. Finally the OMGaCorgi woman realized she had a life and a daughter who was in shock, and they left Bradley and I standing in the frozen food aisle, jumping up and down, talking about pterodactyls and dinosaur eggs and roaring. We picked out ice creams (3 of them) and walked towards the cash register where Bradley, for good measure, tossed in a Cadbury egg because even though we've not endured the full brunt of Valentine's Day with it's hearts and candy and flowers and Valentine cards and the billion commercials about all those things to purchase to make a person's life momentarily spectacular, and if-you-don't-have-a-date-you're-a-loser-so-face-it, it's Easter already and a two & a half year old boy can't get enough sugar, bons or dinosaurs.

Not a Cadbury