Blog, Interrupted
Howdy, y’all from The People’s Republic of Alabama.
I planned to be blogging, in an unauthorized live remote from a beach side boutique, however fate is a cruel mistress.
Lola (pictured, on an American Leather microfiber chair) and I were booted. Persona non grata, as it were…more to follow.
Never fear D Home bloggers, I’ll be at Bungalows tomorrow, in their new expanded location in The Wharf on Canal Road. In the meantime, enjoy…
Lola and I got a late start this a.m. The heat and humidity play havoc on her golden locks. Therefore it was necessary to fully Fekkai her, using apple cider clarifying shampoo, conditioner, and glossing cream. She wanted to wear a frock, fuschia, a great color for her, even though she is a spring. I love that particular dress because it is embossed with fruit (cherries) on silky French terry, with its wide-set straps…it screams summer!
Of course, we also needed to Furminate Lola, as she is moulting right now. We both felt that her tiara was overkill this early in the season. But, I digress…
We entered a shack on the beach with a sign that said, “No shoes, no shirt, no service but bras are optional…” This should have been my first clue. After a few minutes of browsing through cheap, I mean affordable stuff you can get in Dallas, I heard a voice say, “We don’t allow animals in here.” Obviously, she wasn’t speaking to me, right?
A few moments later, louder, I heard again, “We don’t allow animals in here.” I look around to see the offender, only to see her bony unpolished snaggly finger pointing directly at moi. Lola bristled, and snarled. (Which is a problem due to her latent baby teeth. Even at 4.5 lbs she has a Cujo vibe when angry…)
She suggested that I put Lola in my car. I told her that my Benz is black on black. I could go on and on, but Lola and I left. The heat and humidity may make my Lola frizz, but the stupidity could be the death of her…
See Lola’s rescue picture…she’s the bottom row, second from the left…
You’ve come a long way, baby!
4 Comments to “Blog, Interrupted”
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That’s a dog?
I told you it is time to come home. It is terribly unfair to subject TH and Spawn to the rigors of any time in “Bama”, fishing being great or not, but it is untenable to expose Madame Lola to that kind of abuse and unreconcilable trauma. Just imagine how you would feel if you were treated like a “dog”, and a “*****” to boot. Oh well, maybe that is too much of a stretch for your imagination.
Anyway, it’s time to pack up the pack and het back to Dream House where you belong and to let your poor uprooted family get back to civilization. If you don’t treat them better, exchange student might return as part of a voodoo curse.
Come on back ‘ya heah!
Nate, my point exactly. Is Lola merely a dog? Glad to see you agree with me.
This morning both the Internet and cable went out, thus rendering a black hole panic in my very being. I went to Rite Aid to stock up on sunscreen, and their computers were down. A woman with post-its would examine one item in my basket, go find it, return with the price, and repeat the process. I had 10 items. It took 45 minutes to check out.
I told you that it is time to come home where you belong. Can’t you see the signs from above?