Saturday, July 26, 2014

I love this dog!!!!!!!

...should've called this, "Harley & Me"
Good god, I love this dog!

Her name is Harley, and she's been living in my house now for four years!

Four years!  That's 1,460 days!  Holy smokes!

Harley is just the best doggy in the whole wide world!  I love it so much when I come home to find that she's been all curled up on the couch, getting my spot all covered in little white hairs.  That's how I know she loves me back - my spot on the couch is always warm, slightly furry, and there's usually a wet spot on the cushion from where Harley was licking her paws uncontrollably.  If I'm really lucky, I won't notice and I'll get some of that hair on my clothes too.  Man, she's so awesome!

Harley is a pretty good eater too!  Wow, she can pack back whatever food gets put in her dish, plus she's always willing to do her part to help eat whatever leftover food is on my plate.  And, uh-oh, a couples times she's even finished my dinner for me when I wasn't looking because she must've thought I didn't like it and wanted to help out and make me proud of her.  Awww shucks, it's not like I really want to enjoy that food I spent my hard earned money on anyway.

We also have a cat named Ozma. I'm sure you've seen pictures of her before.  Ozma doesn't really like Harley, and honestly, I don't know why.  I guess the cat is just kind of a mean ol' bitch.  Whenever Harley sees Ozma, she runs up to her REALLY fast, and gets right in her face because she wants to be as close to the cat as possible.  She just wants to be her friend so badly!  And then Ozma gets scared like a little wussy and backs up with her claws out.  That's horrible. How dare she try and do that?  I mean, it's not like she should ever feel as though she has to defend herself around Harley.  Sure, Harley is about 6x the size of the cat, but c'mon - SHE JUST WANTS SO BAD TO BE HER FRIEND!  Silly cat.

just look at how straight up dangerous and menacing this little bitch of a cat is... she's so mean.
You know what I've never done?  I've never once thought about taking Harley out to the middle of nowhere and leaving her there.  After all, there could be wolves or dinosaurs or dog catchers out there!  That would be terrible.   I feel horrible for even thinking of such a thing.

One of my very favorite things about Harley is her tremendous singing voice.  All of my neighbors are extremely fortunate to be able to hear Harley serenade them from out in our backyard, usually later in the evening when they've already gotten in bed.  It must be like being lulled to sleep by a caring mother.  In the key of H.

She's also a pretty talented dancer.  No shit!  If you ever come to my house for a visit, don't worry, you'll be treated to her fancy footwork as soon as you come in the door.  In fact, she'll dance AND sing for you at the same time - doing circles around you, and engaging in an energetic game of patty-cake with your pants.  Your legs and pants should be so lucky.

Did I mention how she gets up on the couch and leaves it covered in her little white hairs? I did?  Okay, but I probably didn't explain about how that's just her artistic prowess.  Yes, the whole house is her canvas and at any time you might see her designs on the couch, the floor, the stairs....

Oh, and Harley isn't allowed in the Fan Cave for some strange reason.  That's a mother fucking travesty.  She should spend as much time as possible down there, peeing on the carpet, chewing up my favorite Bruins hats, and eating cat poop out of the litter box.  Yes, that's another way Harley helps out around the house.  She eats the fucking poop out of the litter box.  And then she tries to give me a loving kiss on the cheek.

God, I LOVE THIS DOG SO MUCH!

I also really enjoy giving her doggy treats.  Especially when she's in the backyard and it's time for her to come inside because I have to leave for a little while and (unfortunately) can't bring her with me.  I'll call out to her, "Harley... it's time to come inside!  Come on, my perfect little angel!  Inside!"

And then I'll wait a little bit.  Nothing.

So I call her again.  And again.  And then a few more times, mostly because I love hearing the sound of her name.  Then I decide to bribe her in with a treat, because let's face it - the best way to get a dog to do what we want is to reward them for not doing it in the first place with a tasty little snack.  SUCCESS!  And in the process I've reinforced the behavior that she shouldn't listen to anyone at all unless a tasty snack is involved, which is a great lesson for her if she ever wants to get anywhere in this cold, cruel world.

I can't express enough the happiness that courses through me just for being able to share the air I breathe with Harley; my best puppy pal.

Also, she can be quite the trickster.  In the early, early mornings when I'm having a shower, Harley will lay at the top of the stairs and wait for me.  As I leave the bathroom in the dark, she nearly trips me and almost sends me falling down the whole flight of stairs.  This game, not quite unlike "hide n' seek", is played at least three times a week and I never know for sure which day she'll play it.  I just love nearly falling down the stairs and breaking every bone in my body, don't you?

Just look at all the love in this picture!
A few weeks back, my wife told me some shocking news about the average life spans of dogs.  She gently informed me that, realistically, Harley might only live for another seven or eight years.  I had never been so sad about a piece of news before.  I was down right depressed when I thought about it.  Seven or eight years.

Seven or eight years.

2,555 or 2,920 more days.

Well, if there's one thing I've learned from all of my quality time with Harley, it's that you don't dwell on the negative things people may say or think.  That's why I go out of my way to talk about all the wonderful things Harley does all the time.  I just love sharing my feelings about her.

She's a special kind of dog, and I'm truly very, very, very, very, extremely, very, ultra-super-very, very lucky to have her in my life!  I can't say it enough: I LOVE THIS DOG!!!!!!

- ryan


Sunday, July 13, 2014

That's My Boy!

Breaking news - My pregnant wife is expecting a boy.

...and he looks just like me already!
That's right.  A male child.

I'm 99% sure it's mine too.  I mean, and married men with kids will agree with me here, I don't actually remember making the love to my wife and thus conceiving this child.  She told me it happened, and narrowed it down to a specific day and time so I'm just going to assume I was watching a Bruins game while all the hoopla happened.

Regardless, I'm going to be a dad again - and this time to a little boy.

You might remember a little while back I did the Top 11 Rejected Baby Names, so basically I can now cut that list of names in half.  And no matter how hard I try, she won't let me name this boy Bret The Hitman Ewing.

Believe me, I've tried.

In all seriousness we've settled on the name, Grayson, for this child.

And also in all seriousness, yes - this name is traced back to Batman comics.  When our son is old enough to learn the secret origin of his name, he's gonna be super happy by that news.  Unless he's a Marvel fan, then he'll be no son of mine.

Many of you know that I'm an Irish Prince.  If you don't then that's definitely a story for another day, but in the meantime just accept it for the sake of this blog.  I am, until this son is born, the last of my family's bloodline.  My father had two male siblings, who each spawned one son. Neither of those cousins of mine reproduced boys.  They only had girls.  They're also a good fifteen years or so older than me, so since getting married and having sex with a purposeful outcome (or a goal - that kinda takes away the excitement and allure of bumping uglies with your mate) it's been up to me to produce a son.  If only so that the family name can continue.

...how we announced to the world.  Well, facebook.
Initially I was convinced we had to give this child an Irish name.  After all, our daughter's name is Ryleigh, so I put a lot of effort into finding a great Irish name for my boy.

I then decided that this child should have the most Irish-sounding name out there... Patrick.

Yep, I was all set to name my child Patrick Ewing.

It only took about four seconds to realize a thousand reasons why that wouldn't work.

And then I remembered how much I liked the name Grayson, and how if Ryleigh had been a boy she might have been named that.

I don't expect this new child of mine to join the circus, or fight crime, or live in a castle in Ireland.  But as I sat there in the hospital room watching the ultrasound (and how looking at the face straight on kind of looked like Skeletor) (and the weird-o 3D ultrasound that looks like the baby is on fire) and learning the good news of the gender, one thing became abundantly clear: I have never been so excited to see a penis in my life.

- Ryan

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Ryanopoly... so far.

So here's what we've got so far for Ryanopoly.

Yes, there ARE 3D tokens coming to play with.