Dale's post brought me back to a song in particular by Portland, OR's Quasi as well as a five-year job I had in the late Nineties. I worked on the thirty sixth floor of a conspicuous building. It housed a number of banks and important commerce that Friday afternoon fire drills were dead unflinching; if not that, there was a bomb scare almost every other day. We climbed down that endless flight ...
I love my dog. The little guy is just a prick sometime. You see, it's the barking: the incessant barking at strangers and even people he knows. It drives me crazy. But I just don't want to chop those nuts off.I grew up with a huge dog-half saint bernard and a half of something bird-dogish-that was not neutered and had the run of the block (ten miles outside of rural Oklahoma). He was a hap...