It’s all good though. In just a few short days, I can almost say he’s potty trained. Who says Bulldogs are dumb? Not this one. He’s a very fast learner. And I think this may be the fastest I’ve ever fallen in love. The only problem, girls might find him cuter than me. Damn it.
click on image to enlarge
Why do you think I heart NY so much? Uh, duh. It’s hard to walk down the street without passing at least one beautiful girl that catches my eye. (Of course you must be careful not to turn your head too much, causing you to get hit by a crazy cabbie.) I’ve compared other large cities to NYC - cities like Los Angeles, DC, etc. And in my personal opinion, I find that the best women are in NYC. Maybe it’s just that they are the type of women I’m attracted to – fashion savvy, career oriented, independent, smart , sexy. It’s the total package to me. For the most part, NY women know what they want and aren’t afraid to go after it. That’s a very attractive quality.
Now just because you live in, or move to, an area that has a dense opposite sex population, that doesn’t necessarily mean it “ups the quality” to choose from. There are losers everywhere out there. So pick wisely. I’m just supplying you with the demographics. It’s up to you to make a match happen. Good luck!
His name is David Brown, age 26. One night while sleeping, a phone number popped into his head. It came to him in a dream. Seven digits. Seven digits that weren’t that much different from his own number. He awoke abruptly, the number planted firmly in the front of his mind. He decided to pick up his phone and send a text message to the number he dreamed about. He wrote...
“Did I meet you last night?”
On the other end, a 22-year-old woman by the name of Michelle Kitson received the message. Although she thought it was strange to receive a text from a complete stranger, she decided to reply. Another message back from David, and Michelle was quickly hooked. Her mother warned her they he could be an axe murder, but Michelle knew there was just “something special” about him. The two exchanged more text messages before meeting. It didn't take long before they fell in love and married. They are currently on their honeymoon and plan on living happily ever after.
Just another reason why my Mom is right when she tells me...“You’ll meet that special someone when you least expect it.” Surprisingly enough, in the past, this has actually been true.
In April 2003, a US soldier was carrying a Panasonic CF-M34 Toughbook on his hip in an unarmored Humvee. When the fighting broke out, the soldier held up the laptop to shield himself as a 7.62mm round ripped through the vehicle's door. Thanks to the Toughbook's magnesium casing, the bullet pierced the outer case, cracked through the LCD's glass screen and cratered the left side of the keyboard. The bullet then buried itself in the computer, lodging into the hard drive. Because the bullet didn't make it all the way through, it didn't enter the soldier, thus saving his life!
Just this past week, an Apple iPod took a bullet for another US soldier. This story is a bit more shocking, due to the simple fact that iPods aren’t built “army tough”. Kevin Garrad, of the 3rd Infantry Division, was on street patrol in Iraq. As he rounded the corner of a building, an armed AK-47 insurgent came from the other side. The two men were within just a few feet of each other when they opened fire. The insurgent was killed and Kevin was hit in the chest, on the left, the same spot where his iPod was resting in his chest pocket. The iPod slowed the bullet down enough as to not completely penetrate Kevin’s body armor. Miraculously, he didn’t suffer any wounds.
I wish I could say that no tech gadget was harmed in writing this post, but unfortunately, a laptop and an iPod had to die because of it. RIP.
Over 18 years of her being by my side, that’s a long time. I was just a kid when I got her. An 8 week old pup licked my face. It was love at first sight and the puppy breath sold me. I had to have her. So my father made her mine. Unknown to everyone, except me, this dog would go on to save my life when I was just 12-years-old. A story I’ve never told and probably will never tell. A story that would cause my family and friends great pain, but a story that would clearly show the vast importance and tremendous role a little dog had on a young boy’s life.
My father helped me bury her last spring, on day much like today. It was freezing rain mixed with some snow flurries. Although the calendar read “1st Day Of Spring”, the icy weather seemed rather fitting to be saying a final goodbye to my best friend. It was close to sunset and the ground was still frozen from the recent passing of a cold winter. The thud of the shovel hitting the hard earth, the echo still sticks with me. I stood holding the cardboard box, shielding the wind from whipping over it, as if it mattered. I looked on as my Dad tossed the initial shovelful of dirt by my feet. That single action caused an uncontrollable reaction in me. The grief immediately set in. I began bawling like a little girl and I don’t remember when the tears ever stopped flowing.
Death is a part of life. And so is change. These things I know. However, knowing them doesn’t make it easier. In fact, in some ways it makes it more difficult because we know we must accept, adapt and go on. I’ve accepted. I’m still adapting. And now I must move on. It’s time to fill that void in my life with a new furry friend. I’ve mourned long enough. I want to look at a dog and smile, rather than cry. I don’t want to feel like I’m “cheating” when I pet another dog. I don’t want people to think I’m weird for having dog bowls lying on my kitchen floor when there isn’t a dog in sight. I’m going to find a reason to have those dog bowls and a reason to feel happy when I come home at night. I’m getting a new puppy.
On the 1 year anniversary of my dog’s death, I allowed myself to hold a puppy in my arms once again. Puppy breath. It’s been a long time, but I remember it well. I will be getting a Bulldog pup. He’s too young to be separated from him Mom right now, so as I wait for his arrival into my home, I need to choose a name. Help me name my soon-to-be buddy by selecting the name you like best in the Voting Poll (listed on my sidebar). If you have any other names you would like to suggest for a male Bulldog, leave your suggestion in the comment section. If I had puppy breath, I would lick you with it as a show of thanks. Thanks.
I heart my Razr phone. I couldn’t run my business without my mobile pal. And I’m sure my social life would suffer if I ever left home without her luminescent blue bodied keypad. She’s tucked in my pocket and travels with me from Pittsburgh to NY to DC and occasionally California. I need her. I use her. And apparently I abused her, to the total of $104.12!
I went $50 OVER my Verizon Wireless plan. $50 OVER the normal $50 I already pay monthly. My current balance says I owe OVER $100 for a single month worth or calls! It’s disgusting. Nauseating. I want to smack myself because it’s my own damn fault – talking during peak times, txting to excess, sending photos instead of just using a real camera to snap high quality pics. Stupid boy. What was I thinking?
It’s times like these when I wish my Verizon Wireless bill wouldn’t be just a web link I click on. I want it to be on REAL paper. You know that stuff your parents once used for prehistoric communication. I want to feel the crinkly sheets between my fingertips. I want to crumble and tear all 12 pages (yes, 12 long pages) worth of calls listed on my latest bill statement. I want to rip them into tiny pieces and stomp on the fiber remains. Then light those on fire and let the wind blow the black ash away. Sorry, that sounds like a bit much and a tad violent.
I’m fine, really. I don’t mind paying double for my cell phone bill. I don’t feel the least bit hostile. I’m simply going to print out my bill from this PDF file, glance over it, smile and put it thru my paper shredder. I love the sound of the blades grinding away. Like a monster’s teeth chomping thru its victim’s bones. It’s almost as pleasing to the ear as this little birdie who sings me a springtime melody every morning, at 5AM! FYI to the birdie…it’s still dark out asshole. Go back to sleep!
I’ll pay the f-ing bill, but I don’t have to like it.
