Best in Show (in the covetted "Sausage Dog" category)

So I walk out the front door of our building, taking the boys for their last pee break for the night. There are two (very beautiful) young guys sitting on the grate talking to one of the security guards. The two young guys are very taken by Porthos. (He has that effect on everyone... not just hot men... god bless 'em.) They're petting him and rubbing his belly, ('cause he's on his back like a common belly-rub whore for anyone who even starts to give him a few "scritches".) and the security guard (referring to Porthos) says to me: "What kind of dog is he?". Cordially, I said "He's a Basset Hound". To which he replied (as though he didn't hear me) "A sausage dog?". And I smiled and said "he's a Basset Hound". Then again from him "I thought he was a sausage dog". "Well, yeah... but his actual breed is Basset hound". (honest to goodness, I wasn't being a pr**k with the guy) And one last time... "So he's not a sausage dog?"
"(still smiling) Nope, not exactly". When really, truly... internally I'm thinking... "Why yesssss.... he is a sausage dog. ...Genuine Vienna honey garlic sausage dog. Mmmm. Spicy." dumb-ass

Don't get me wrong; I'm not a breed snob, and I don't mind if someone says "oooh look, a wiener dog" (I'm very fond of wieners.... sausage too. wink) but a) He was not listening to me. Don't ask me a question and ignore my answer and b) You're a grown man. I don't care if you know dog breeds or not, surely you know there's no such breed as a sausage dog!! Whatever. It certainly gave me a cutesy lil story to tell.

Speaking of the "sausage" dog... he's now crate-free.
Roaming his and Cole's domain while we're away, and thus far there have been no significant incidents. (aside from stealing used q-tips from the bathroom garbage can - ewww - you should see him lift the lid though. CUTE!) The only serious casualty has been one envelope delivered in the mail (a big Porthos-sized bite). The bills still arrive, so I don't think he's making a habit of it. He's become such a good boy. A daddy couldn't be more proud. I loves ma' boys!

I'm feeling a little "country" today... (Hey - no groaning... the alternative was the theme song to the Golden Girls which I've had running through my head all day. Damn you Nick!) So with a summery, feel-good tune in mind...

"Jeans On" by Keith Urban. Smokin' hot, and a phenomenal guitar player!

When I wake up in the mornin' light
I pull on my jeans and I feel all right
I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on
I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on

It's the weekend, and I know that you're free
So pull on your jeans and come on out with me
Oh 'cause I need to have you near me,
I need to feel you close to me
I need to have you near me, I need to feel you close to me

You and me, we'll go motorbike ridin' in the sun
And the wind and the rain
I got money in my pocket, I got a tiger in my tank
And I'm king of the road again

I'll meet ya in the usual place
You don't need a thing except your pretty face, alright
I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on
I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on
Aw, here we go mama

You and me, we'll go motorbike ridin' in the sun
And the wind and the rain
I got money in my pocket, I got a tiger in my tank
And I'm king of the road again

When I wake up in the mornin' light
I pull on my jeans and I feel all right
Hey I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on

I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on
I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on
I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on