Today is December 6th. I was hoping to go much deeper into December before getting hit by my first “Merry Christmas” blitzkrieg. But I took one across the bow early this morning from the volunteer that serves coffee and pastries at the VA Hospital in Charleston. I can forgive her because some of the people that she serves today won’t be around at Christmas.
Throughout the day, I heard several other such greetings in the periphery but as they were not directed at me, the rules of engagement are that I did not have to respond or acknowledge. I find that the key is to keep moving in a serpentine manner and pretend to be otherwise engaged.
That strategy served me well until I made the tactical error of visiting Walmart. At the entrance was the dreaded Salvation Army Bell Ringer. I did not expect an encounter this early in the campaign and was not prepared. I tried unsuccessfully to avoid eye contact, much like with a rabid dog. I thought I had gotten safely out of range, but those people are trained to project their “Merry Christmas” greetings so that even with the cover of several other shoppers, I knew it was directed at me. I felt the laser sight of her eyes on my back. It was like a Scrooge seeking missile. Though I did not turn around, she knew that I knew that I was hit. She confirmed the kill by ringing that infernal bell.
As Skooter and I were entering the elevator at my residence, I could not get the door closed before one of my neighbors entered. Believe me; I tried as desperately as if Jason Voorhees was pursuing me. I knew from past Yule-tide attacks that she was a loose-cannon “Merry Christmasser,” who has been known to snipe as early as Black Friday. I was trapped in the elevator like a fart victim. She began the conversation with a benign weather comment. Skooter apparently did not receive my telepathic command to attack. It is my understanding that the business end of a 40 pound Beagle attached to one’s leg will temporarily curb Christmas spirit. But Skooter, selfish bastard that he is, failed me miserably, as he tried to charm her out of a treat. Eye contact was inevitable.
I had to exit first, so I considered a preemptive strike with either a “Have a Nice Day” or a i-jung chagi to her knees. Since she lives in the same building, and I see her nearly daily, perhaps she would realize how ridiculous it was to “Merry Christmas” me with 18 shopping days left. But she not only “Merry Christmassed” me, but there was collateral damage: “You and Skooter have a wonderful Christmas.” Oh no she didn't. Though traumatized, I managed to drag Skooter to the safety of our home. If I can teach Skooter to use the toilet, I may not venture out again until 2011.
Showing posts with label Skooter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Skooter. Show all posts
Monday, December 6, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
It's Not Rocket Science - 10/15/2010
Songs will be sung around the campfire by my descendants about my lack of practical skills. The only quality more legendary is my total lack of patience. Both of you who have read previous blogs will recall the cassette deck event and the carburetor rebuild debacle, among others.
I am certain sleep would not have come easily had you known that I was once entrusted by the United States Air Force to prepare missiles for flight and nuclear weapons in a ready state. I don’t know if I used to be more competent, but I doubt it.
Knowing what I know about myself you would think that I would no longer embark on tasks requiring any adroitness, dexterity or aplomb. You would be wrong.
I sleep on a Sleep Science Memory Foam mattress, which is the absolute best sleep system I have ever stretched out on. I know you have seen the advertisements where one person is jumping up and down on one side while their “partner” is defusing a bomb on the opposite side. From the first time I laid down on it, I knew I would never own anything else. I love this product so much I could do a commercial for it, but I am sure the image of a fat bastard like me wallowing around would send sales plummeting.
The mattress comes with a: “Luxurious Soft, removable and washable, Jacquard cover”. This is a totally truthful declaration. It was this statement that encouraged me to venture beyond my skill set. I examined the tag and it instructed me that it was machine washable in cold water and could be dried using the air fluff setting (no heat). I understood the purpose of this care was to prevent shrinking. I am not a complete dullard.
There is zipper all the way around the mattress for easy “removal.”
DAY 1
I removed the mattress cover and as there were a couple of small stains of unknown origin, I applied Spray and Wash and washed as instructed. As the cover is quite plush and “luxurious” as previously stated, I was expecting that it would take some time to dry using the air fluff setting. I was not prepared for how long it actually took to dry. I slept on the couch like a married man that had erred.
DAY 2
I am not certain if I was awoken by the pain in my arthritic knee from curling up to allow Skooter his three quarter share of the couch or the distress neck was experiencing from my head being elevated far beyond my normal position. Once I could get myself into a standing position I went to check the dryer as I had put it on an 80 minute cycle prior to retiring. Still wet. Though I was tempted to add some heat to the process, I kept my cool (so to speak). Eventually, the cover, though still damp, was dry enough to reinstall. My plan was to run the ceiling fan on high after I ensconced the mattress, to complete the drying. It made sense to me.
What I wasn’t prepared for was the degree of difficulty I would experience trying to refit the mattress into the cover. The mattress is 10 inches thick and the stability that it is famous for is because the foam is compressed into a solid, very heavy, mass. It is nearly impossible for one person to maneuver it sufficiently to plant it back into the cover. This is a fact that I suspected when removing the cover but had reached the point of no return before I fully realized it.
I wrestled it until I was totally exhausted, turned on the ceiling fan, cooked dinner, and retired to the couch.
DAY 3
I awoke is more agony than the previous morning due to the added structural damage I received from mattress wrangling. Sometime during the night Skooter moved to his bed (which he seldom sleeps in). I am not sure if he moved voluntarily or was kicked off the couch by my jimmy leg.
The cover was now dry but my bedroom was now about 50 degrees from the cool night aided by the high speed fan. I pulled out the owner’s manual for the sleep system and there was really no new information to help me. I now had the cover positioned pretty well but not well enough for it to zip. I was afraid to force it as I did not want to risk tearing it or stripping the zipper.
In the manual I found a number for tech support. I thought, “what the heck?” The fact that a mattress required tech support should have told me I was in over my head. But I dialed the number and as you might suspect I got somebody in India and when I told him my situation I think he put me on speaker phone so all the other outsourcers could enjoy my distress. As you can imagine, he was no help at all, and the consensus from the Mumbai office was that nobody every removes the cover. He did indicate that the successful re-installation of a cover that he had heard of but had not been verified was done by a team and not a single person.
The next couple of hours were pretty intense. Skooter begged to go out on the balcony as I am sure he thought I was going to have a stroke. I managed to get the bag on the mattress and zipped, but I am not sure that the memory foam has any recollection of how things used to be. The cover is not perfect, but we live in an imperfect world. Once I got the fitted sheet on you could hardly see the lumps. Job well done. I am putting this one in the win column.
I am certain sleep would not have come easily had you known that I was once entrusted by the United States Air Force to prepare missiles for flight and nuclear weapons in a ready state. I don’t know if I used to be more competent, but I doubt it.
Knowing what I know about myself you would think that I would no longer embark on tasks requiring any adroitness, dexterity or aplomb. You would be wrong.
I sleep on a Sleep Science Memory Foam mattress, which is the absolute best sleep system I have ever stretched out on. I know you have seen the advertisements where one person is jumping up and down on one side while their “partner” is defusing a bomb on the opposite side. From the first time I laid down on it, I knew I would never own anything else. I love this product so much I could do a commercial for it, but I am sure the image of a fat bastard like me wallowing around would send sales plummeting.
The mattress comes with a: “Luxurious Soft, removable and washable, Jacquard cover”. This is a totally truthful declaration. It was this statement that encouraged me to venture beyond my skill set. I examined the tag and it instructed me that it was machine washable in cold water and could be dried using the air fluff setting (no heat). I understood the purpose of this care was to prevent shrinking. I am not a complete dullard.
There is zipper all the way around the mattress for easy “removal.”
DAY 1
I removed the mattress cover and as there were a couple of small stains of unknown origin, I applied Spray and Wash and washed as instructed. As the cover is quite plush and “luxurious” as previously stated, I was expecting that it would take some time to dry using the air fluff setting. I was not prepared for how long it actually took to dry. I slept on the couch like a married man that had erred.
DAY 2
I am not certain if I was awoken by the pain in my arthritic knee from curling up to allow Skooter his three quarter share of the couch or the distress neck was experiencing from my head being elevated far beyond my normal position. Once I could get myself into a standing position I went to check the dryer as I had put it on an 80 minute cycle prior to retiring. Still wet. Though I was tempted to add some heat to the process, I kept my cool (so to speak). Eventually, the cover, though still damp, was dry enough to reinstall. My plan was to run the ceiling fan on high after I ensconced the mattress, to complete the drying. It made sense to me.
What I wasn’t prepared for was the degree of difficulty I would experience trying to refit the mattress into the cover. The mattress is 10 inches thick and the stability that it is famous for is because the foam is compressed into a solid, very heavy, mass. It is nearly impossible for one person to maneuver it sufficiently to plant it back into the cover. This is a fact that I suspected when removing the cover but had reached the point of no return before I fully realized it.
I wrestled it until I was totally exhausted, turned on the ceiling fan, cooked dinner, and retired to the couch.
DAY 3
I awoke is more agony than the previous morning due to the added structural damage I received from mattress wrangling. Sometime during the night Skooter moved to his bed (which he seldom sleeps in). I am not sure if he moved voluntarily or was kicked off the couch by my jimmy leg.
The cover was now dry but my bedroom was now about 50 degrees from the cool night aided by the high speed fan. I pulled out the owner’s manual for the sleep system and there was really no new information to help me. I now had the cover positioned pretty well but not well enough for it to zip. I was afraid to force it as I did not want to risk tearing it or stripping the zipper.
In the manual I found a number for tech support. I thought, “what the heck?” The fact that a mattress required tech support should have told me I was in over my head. But I dialed the number and as you might suspect I got somebody in India and when I told him my situation I think he put me on speaker phone so all the other outsourcers could enjoy my distress. As you can imagine, he was no help at all, and the consensus from the Mumbai office was that nobody every removes the cover. He did indicate that the successful re-installation of a cover that he had heard of but had not been verified was done by a team and not a single person.
The next couple of hours were pretty intense. Skooter begged to go out on the balcony as I am sure he thought I was going to have a stroke. I managed to get the bag on the mattress and zipped, but I am not sure that the memory foam has any recollection of how things used to be. The cover is not perfect, but we live in an imperfect world. Once I got the fitted sheet on you could hardly see the lumps. Job well done. I am putting this one in the win column.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Through the Eyes of an Artist - 9/4/2010
This afternoon while Skooter was walking me, I saw a lady snapping photos in my neighborhood. A short discussion revealed that she was from the Midwest and this was her first visit to the south. She said she found the scenery breathtaking. Being a Seinfeld fan, I know that “breathtaking” can be interpreted many ways (Lobster episode). She told me that she was an artist and planned to use the photos she was taking as subjects for a series she planned on painting, called “Southern Exposures”. She caused me, for the first time, to actually look at where I live. When she had gone, I snapped a few photos with my crappy cell phone camera. I was motivated, but still too lazy to go in a get my camera.
I have always appreciated living on the water, but have never paid much attention to that which I see every day, but don't really look at.
All of these were taken within a couple of hundred yards of where I sleep, grill, and sit at the computer.
She was looking through the eyes of an artist. I don’t look at the world through the eyes of an artist, primarily because I have no artist skills. I peaked as an artist when I made a turkey from the outline of my hand in Kindergarten. But today, this chance encounter encouraged me to focus on the scenic splendor that surrounds me every day, but I take for granted.
Reflecting (as I always do) on this revelation, I realized that I should apply this same concept to my own life. I am mostly disappointed in my “little” life. I let days, months, years pass without appreciating the simple joys that I experience. They go relatively unnoticed. As this woman taught me, “every photo doesn’t have to be the Grand Canyon,” I suppose every hit doesn’t have to be a home run. Sometimes you win by dribbling one through the infield. As a person who has not hit many out of the park, maybe I should be happy just getting to first base once in a while. I am guessing this metaphor will be lost on both my readers, but it sounded good when it was inside my head.
Will this lesson stay with me? Probably not. It may just be the combination of an energy drink and OxyContin that has provided me with this clarity. Perhaps there was no woman there at all. There usually isn’t.
Even my dumpster is surrounded by beauty.
I have always appreciated living on the water, but have never paid much attention to that which I see every day, but don't really look at.
All of these were taken within a couple of hundred yards of where I sleep, grill, and sit at the computer.
She was looking through the eyes of an artist. I don’t look at the world through the eyes of an artist, primarily because I have no artist skills. I peaked as an artist when I made a turkey from the outline of my hand in Kindergarten. But today, this chance encounter encouraged me to focus on the scenic splendor that surrounds me every day, but I take for granted.
Reflecting (as I always do) on this revelation, I realized that I should apply this same concept to my own life. I am mostly disappointed in my “little” life. I let days, months, years pass without appreciating the simple joys that I experience. They go relatively unnoticed. As this woman taught me, “every photo doesn’t have to be the Grand Canyon,” I suppose every hit doesn’t have to be a home run. Sometimes you win by dribbling one through the infield. As a person who has not hit many out of the park, maybe I should be happy just getting to first base once in a while. I am guessing this metaphor will be lost on both my readers, but it sounded good when it was inside my head.
Will this lesson stay with me? Probably not. It may just be the combination of an energy drink and OxyContin that has provided me with this clarity. Perhaps there was no woman there at all. There usually isn’t.
Even my dumpster is surrounded by beauty.
Monday, July 26, 2010
My Dog Can Smell Your Soul - 7/26/2010
My baker’s dozen of regular readers know that my boon companion is my Beagle, Skooter. Those that know Beagles realize they have an amazing sense of smell. They are often used for drug, cadaver, or bomb dogs. Skooter has a special ability.
I wish I was as good of a judge of character as this canine. He has divided all humans into three categories immediately upon meeting them and deals with them thusly:
1) If he likes them he can be very charming, sidling up to them and offering himself to be petted, stroked, or otherwise attended to. He will repay these kind gestures with a loving look from his big, sad, brown eyes. He may nuzzle them or even offer a lick, though his is not generally a licker. Chances are he may just stand by them and relax.
2) Some people he will totally ignore and even change course to avoid contact with them. He has sensed that they are not deserving of his favor but has not yet made a full determination. Through time, they can actually earn their way into the first group. They are on super secret probation and only Skooter knows why.
3) The third group of people has been instantly entered into Skooter’s shit list. His hackles will rise. He will snarl and bark at them and no amount of coaxing will change his mind. If he was looking at the devil himself, the reaction would be no different. If they had a pocket full of treats he would not alter his perception.
You may say that Skooter is exhibiting prejudice and bigotry, making an instant, baseless, judgment on the worth of a person. I think that Skooter’s position is that there are enough good people in the world for him to waste time on the bad. Not a bad policy in my opinion.
I can only speak for myself, but sometimes I am so eager to be petted, stroked, or otherwise attended to that I have often not been as selective as would be prudent as to whom I offer my back to. Historically, I have often been metaphorically stabbed in that back. Sometimes just a flesh wound and other times a near fatality, cutting into major organs. Usually the attack comes after I have squandered time, emotion, and resources on this schlemiel or schlemielette.
Skooters method of sorting humanity has served him well. He has never, to my knowledge, had a less than satisfying association with humans of his choice, while in my custody.
He does not choose by race, sexual preference, gender, economic status, or national origin. I believe he can smell their soul. Two people can approach him and he will select one (or none) to give his brand of affection to. Once they are accepted, they are members of Skooter’s inner circle for life. And I have to be honest. Those that he has embraced have proven to be worthy. Right Mike?
Skooter does have a trace of bigotry however. He pretty much dislikes all children. They are only eligible for categories 2 and 3. They tend to get in his face before he has had the opportunity to evaluate them, thereby forfeiting their opportunity. Oh yeah, and if you try to reach into our car, uninvited, all bets are off. He has to appraise you on his terms.
I wish I was as good of a judge of character as this canine. He has divided all humans into three categories immediately upon meeting them and deals with them thusly:
1) If he likes them he can be very charming, sidling up to them and offering himself to be petted, stroked, or otherwise attended to. He will repay these kind gestures with a loving look from his big, sad, brown eyes. He may nuzzle them or even offer a lick, though his is not generally a licker. Chances are he may just stand by them and relax.
2) Some people he will totally ignore and even change course to avoid contact with them. He has sensed that they are not deserving of his favor but has not yet made a full determination. Through time, they can actually earn their way into the first group. They are on super secret probation and only Skooter knows why.
3) The third group of people has been instantly entered into Skooter’s shit list. His hackles will rise. He will snarl and bark at them and no amount of coaxing will change his mind. If he was looking at the devil himself, the reaction would be no different. If they had a pocket full of treats he would not alter his perception.
You may say that Skooter is exhibiting prejudice and bigotry, making an instant, baseless, judgment on the worth of a person. I think that Skooter’s position is that there are enough good people in the world for him to waste time on the bad. Not a bad policy in my opinion.
I can only speak for myself, but sometimes I am so eager to be petted, stroked, or otherwise attended to that I have often not been as selective as would be prudent as to whom I offer my back to. Historically, I have often been metaphorically stabbed in that back. Sometimes just a flesh wound and other times a near fatality, cutting into major organs. Usually the attack comes after I have squandered time, emotion, and resources on this schlemiel or schlemielette.
Skooters method of sorting humanity has served him well. He has never, to my knowledge, had a less than satisfying association with humans of his choice, while in my custody.
He does not choose by race, sexual preference, gender, economic status, or national origin. I believe he can smell their soul. Two people can approach him and he will select one (or none) to give his brand of affection to. Once they are accepted, they are members of Skooter’s inner circle for life. And I have to be honest. Those that he has embraced have proven to be worthy. Right Mike?
Skooter does have a trace of bigotry however. He pretty much dislikes all children. They are only eligible for categories 2 and 3. They tend to get in his face before he has had the opportunity to evaluate them, thereby forfeiting their opportunity. Oh yeah, and if you try to reach into our car, uninvited, all bets are off. He has to appraise you on his terms.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
55 Friday Flash Fiction - Man's Best Friend? - 9/10/09
Each week G-Man of 55 Flash Fiction Friday challenges us to write our thoughts using only 55 words.
Most of my belongings are shit. My newest vehicle is 10-years old. My TVs are neither high-def nor plasma. I have indulged myself the single luxury of 800-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets. Skooter is not allowed on my bed linen. When he is disgruntled or annoyed with me, he cuddles himself up on my pillow, defiantly.
Most of my belongings are shit. My newest vehicle is 10-years old. My TVs are neither high-def nor plasma. I have indulged myself the single luxury of 800-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets. Skooter is not allowed on my bed linen. When he is disgruntled or annoyed with me, he cuddles himself up on my pillow, defiantly.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Wordless Wednesday - David and Goliath - 3/25/09
This photo was taken by Brianna at the Myrtle Beach Bark Park. The little fellow is Shooter and the big guy is ShoDon. Shooter does not know he is the little guy. As Mark Twain once observed: "It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog."
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
55 Flash Fiction Friday - 2/19/09
Check out 55 Flash Fiction Friday. The idea is to write a story in 55 words. Very fun and challenging. Give it a try and I guarantee you will get a visit from the G-Man. Here is mine for this week.
At sunrise
Skooter and I walk
to his pooping ground.
Early rising squirrels cavort.
Skooter does NOT like rollicking forest creatures.
Skooter is NOT politically correct.
Skooter profiles squirrels.
To Skooter, there are NO good squirrels.
Skooter does NOT practice Diplomacy.
Skooter does NOT negotiate with squirrels.
ALL squirrels are terrorists.
ALL squirrels need chasing.
At sunrise
Skooter and I walk
to his pooping ground.
Early rising squirrels cavort.
Skooter does NOT like rollicking forest creatures.
Skooter is NOT politically correct.
Skooter profiles squirrels.
To Skooter, there are NO good squirrels.
Skooter does NOT practice Diplomacy.
Skooter does NOT negotiate with squirrels.
ALL squirrels are terrorists.
ALL squirrels need chasing.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Heads or Tails - "Love Story" - 2/10/09
This is my first time participating at Barb's Heads or Tails. I probably couldn't have picked a worse time to join in. With Valentine's Day looming, this weeks prompt is predictably "Love Story". For many of us, Valentine's Day is the saddest holiday of all. I am certainly not qualified to write of love. I will leave it to the professionals. I have included some song titles that speak to me of love, or anti-love. It seems others have shared my experiences with love. I don't want to come off as bitter, that is not the case. Some people are not good at golf, I am not good at love. At least no one ever cut their ear off because of golf. That being said, at the end of this post is a photo of the only love that I can be absolutely certain of, unconditionally.
Love is a battlefield
Love don’t love me
Love hurts
Love and pain
Love is a mutt from hell
Love is dead
Love is a killer
Love in vain
I don’t want your love
Love is blue
Losers in love
Love don’t live here anymore
Love is a stranger
Love’s a hard game to play
Love is a cannibal
Love’s a deadly weapon
Love for sale
Love should be a crime
Love pains
Love will tear us apart
Love to see you cry
Love under fire
Love song for no one
Love on the rocks
Love crimes
Love really hurts
Love lies bleeding
Love kills
Love me no more
Love is the fall of every man
One sided love
Stranger to love
The love that we lost
Unlovable
Tainted love
When love dies
The end of a love affair
U don’t love me
Unforgiven love
When love and hate collide
Tough love
Too late for love
There must be more to love than this
Whatever happened to true love
Too much love will kill you
When love cries
She loves everybody
The line between love and hate
This can’t be love
This aint a love song
The trouble with love is
The remains of our love
There’s not much love here anymore
Love can knock you over
Love is nothing
What do you do when love dies
Wasted love
What is love
We’re sending our love down the well
Walk away from love
Used to love you
We don’t make love anymore
What the hell is love
The price of love
Victim of love
The lonely side of love
Unloved
The game of love
The love I never had
Violent love
Slap of love
Where did our love go
That aint love
When love turns to blue
When your lover has gone
Where does love go when it dies
String of bad love
When love fades
When you took your love away
When the wrong one loves you
When will I be loved
When love is over
So how come no one loves me
Sometimes love just aint enough
The girl I never loved
When love goes wrong
Suffocated love
Strange lover
Out of love
She loves me not
Should have loved me when you had the chance
So sad to watch good love go bad
Scars of love
She can’t love you
Never love again
Since you took your love away
Where has the love gone
Psycho love
I’m not your lover
Our love’s in danger
Nobody here to love
Prisoner of love
She don’t love you
Why don’t you love me
Without love
Wicked love
Where is the love
Price of love
Who needs love like that
One of us is in love
No love
Wounded in love
Pain is love
You don’t love me
Love’s so cruel
My love is dangerous
Who will love me now
You don’t know what love is
Only love can break your heart
One-sided love affair
You can’t make a heart love somebody
Woman without love
Never had a lover
Without your love
My lover’s gone
Love is rare
Love is strange
Never gonna fall in love again
Nobody loves me
No more love
Never felt love
Lovesick blues
Misery loves company
Never love you
Love is dangerous
Love fades
Love’s a loaded gun
Love’s unkind
Love and napalm
Far from love
Love ain’t worth making
Kiss your love goodbye
You’re not in love
You’re love is driving me crazy
You used to love me
You’ll never find another love
Love’s a slap in the face
Love bites
You took your love away from me
Life’s too short to love like that
You love me to hate you
Love and other bruises
You give love a bad name
Just wasn’t love
You say you don’t love me
It’s too late to love me now
It hurts like love
You don’t love me anymore
If you died I wouldn’t cry cause you never loved me anyway
I’m the man who murdered love
I’ll never fall in love again
I just don’t love you anymore
Hate to love
I’m not in love
I’m outta love
I wish I’d never loved you
I never loved you anyways
I love the dead
Love stinks
I don’t love you
He don’t love you
I love you like a ball and chain
I can’t be loved
Gone is my love
He loves you not
Falling out of love
Guess you didn’t love me
I don’t need love
I can’t make you love me
Your love is driving me crazy
Fractured love
Got love for sale
Gloomy love
Fool for your love
50 ways to leave your lover
After the love has gone
Aint Love a Bitch
Don’t kill for love
Desperate love
Faded love
Fools fall in love
Demolition love
All out of love
Don’t say you love me
Anti-Love Song
Betcha she don’t love you
Bye bye love
Chloroform the one you love
Casualty of love
Crazy love
Love is a battlefield
Love don’t love me
Love hurts
Love and pain
Love is a mutt from hell
Love is dead
Love is a killer
Love in vain
I don’t want your love
Love is blue
Losers in love
Love don’t live here anymore
Love is a stranger
Love’s a hard game to play
Love is a cannibal
Love’s a deadly weapon
Love for sale
Love should be a crime
Love pains
Love will tear us apart
Love to see you cry
Love under fire
Love song for no one
Love on the rocks
Love crimes
Love really hurts
Love lies bleeding
Love kills
Love me no more
Love is the fall of every man
One sided love
Stranger to love
The love that we lost
Unlovable
Tainted love
When love dies
The end of a love affair
U don’t love me
Unforgiven love
When love and hate collide
Tough love
Too late for love
There must be more to love than this
Whatever happened to true love
Too much love will kill you
When love cries
She loves everybody
The line between love and hate
This can’t be love
This aint a love song
The trouble with love is
The remains of our love
There’s not much love here anymore
Love can knock you over
Love is nothing
What do you do when love dies
Wasted love
What is love
We’re sending our love down the well
Walk away from love
Used to love you
We don’t make love anymore
What the hell is love
The price of love
Victim of love
The lonely side of love
Unloved
The game of love
The love I never had
Violent love
Slap of love
Where did our love go
That aint love
When love turns to blue
When your lover has gone
Where does love go when it dies
String of bad love
When love fades
When you took your love away
When the wrong one loves you
When will I be loved
When love is over
So how come no one loves me
Sometimes love just aint enough
The girl I never loved
When love goes wrong
Suffocated love
Strange lover
Out of love
She loves me not
Should have loved me when you had the chance
So sad to watch good love go bad
Scars of love
She can’t love you
Never love again
Since you took your love away
Where has the love gone
Psycho love
I’m not your lover
Our love’s in danger
Nobody here to love
Prisoner of love
She don’t love you
Why don’t you love me
Without love
Wicked love
Where is the love
Price of love
Who needs love like that
One of us is in love
No love
Wounded in love
Pain is love
You don’t love me
Love’s so cruel
My love is dangerous
Who will love me now
You don’t know what love is
Only love can break your heart
One-sided love affair
You can’t make a heart love somebody
Woman without love
Never had a lover
Without your love
My lover’s gone
Love is rare
Love is strange
Never gonna fall in love again
Nobody loves me
No more love
Never felt love
Lovesick blues
Misery loves company
Never love you
Love is dangerous
Love fades
Love’s a loaded gun
Love’s unkind
Love and napalm
Far from love
Love ain’t worth making
Kiss your love goodbye
You’re not in love
You’re love is driving me crazy
You used to love me
You’ll never find another love
Love’s a slap in the face
Love bites
You took your love away from me
Life’s too short to love like that
You love me to hate you
Love and other bruises
You give love a bad name
Just wasn’t love
You say you don’t love me
It’s too late to love me now
It hurts like love
You don’t love me anymore
If you died I wouldn’t cry cause you never loved me anyway
I’m the man who murdered love
I’ll never fall in love again
I just don’t love you anymore
Hate to love
I’m not in love
I’m outta love
I wish I’d never loved you
I never loved you anyways
I love the dead
Love stinks
I don’t love you
He don’t love you
I love you like a ball and chain
I can’t be loved
Gone is my love
He loves you not
Falling out of love
Guess you didn’t love me
I don’t need love
I can’t make you love me
Your love is driving me crazy
Fractured love
Got love for sale
Gloomy love
Fool for your love
50 ways to leave your lover
After the love has gone
Aint Love a Bitch
Don’t kill for love
Desperate love
Faded love
Fools fall in love
Demolition love
All out of love
Don’t say you love me
Anti-Love Song
Betcha she don’t love you
Bye bye love
Chloroform the one you love
Casualty of love
Crazy love
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Myrtle Beach Bark Park - 2/8/08
Today was a beautiful day and after several days of brutally cold weather (for Myrtle Beach) it was nice to finally have a top down day. Skooter and I headed for the Dog Park, as did a lot of other folks and their canines. Just about every size and shape of dog and master was represented. The humans socialize while the dogs play. I took a few photos of some of the activity on this gorgeous day and some of the dogs that Skooter sniffed. Skooter even found some other beagles to hang out with. Click on photos to view larger image.
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