Sunday, November 25, 2007

On Stuffing, Cranberry Sauce and Dogs

Happy Thanksgiving to all, and to all a Happy Thanksgiving. Look, at least I didn't say Gobble Gobble, or Happy Turkey Day. The turkeys are definitely not happy that day...but they are kind of delicious. However, I tend to flock more towards the stuffing and the homemade cranberry sauce while saving room for the endless amounts of pies that always congregate on my aunt's table. This year, my plan was no different, though the pies didn't quite fulfill my expectations for them. There was a decent pear, a really good custard, a pecan that nobody wanted to eat, and some wack cakes.

The weakness of the dessert wasn't the only surprise this past weekend though. Every year, we head to my mom's sister's house in Medfield, Massachusetts. This year, we didn't need to use any tranquilizer darts on my mom on the ride up or back down. My 16-year old cousin, who in my mind is still 5 and holding a stuffed cloud leopard named Spot, is somehow one year away from graduating and 40 pounds heavier than me. Helping him get so large is a Powertec home gym my uncle bought for him, which is sturdier than most and runs on roll bearings instead of ball bearings, or so I'm told. There's another reason it's so sturdy: it looks like it was made from rejected Caterpillar parts. I swear, it's some sort of wack Constructicon, whose alternate form would be used by Starscream behind Megatron's back to get dynamite pecs in preparation for a coup. Lastly, but definitely not least importantly, I saw no bears on their land. Not that I ever have, but what's the point of owning land if you're not going to attract bears to hang out?

On the way back, my family stopped off at Petco to get some home improvements for my sister's hamster. I looked at pets to buy, but none were large enough to properly be awesome...until I happened upon a book about Rottweilers* and read that they will follow you all around the apartment, guard your stuff with intense courage, and will help you do laundry. An ideal pet if ever I'd heard of one. Logically, I set to work preparing for when I would own one by figuring out what his ideal name would be first. For your astonishment and reading pleasure, I've listed, in no particular order, the names I'm deciding from, thought of while riding shotgun.
  • Thor - Obviously, the dog will have to prove himself by being able to lift Mjolnir. Shouldn't be a problem though.
  • Dr. Doom
  • Mo
  • Gideon - If he has a proclivity for ham, pirates, lusty wenches and drinking out of the toilet.
  • Jasper
  • Bear - This doesn't even need explaining, and is tied for #1 choice right now with the Odinson.
  • HoJo
  • Wallace - This would only work if he's a goofy dog, like a sheepdog or something.
  • Dwight Freeney - I already have a plant named after him, but that doesn't make it exclusive. If my dog is the best pass rushing dog, then he too can be named after Dwight.
  • Rowlf or Ralph - This is a no-brainer if he's a St. Bernard. I named my childhood stuffed dog after Rowlf from the Muppets, but couldn't pronounce it, so he got Anglicized into Ralph.
  • Grizzlebee
  • Green Lantern
  • Spector
  • Moon Knight
  • Biscuit
  • Steve Rogers - Rottweilers are known to be courageous. And they could probably throw a vibranium shield.
  • Clint
  • Nomad
  • Kodiak
  • Cliff - After Method Man, not Clifford the big red dog
  • Slick Rick - Also not after Clifford the big red dog
  • Willis - I actually forget who this would be after
  • Shea - To honor the Mets
  • Colossus - To honor the X-Man
  • Hercules - To honor the ancient Greeks
  • Jax - To honor...actually, just cause
  • Optimus
  • Jerome
  • Barksdale - Avon was a Golden Gloves champ and found with grenades, among much other contraband
  • Bismarck - I think it's a little much to expect my rottweiler to be the father of modern Germany, but he should appreciate his heritage
  • Richter
  • Marino - Favre stole his record, this may make up for it
  • Roscoe
  • Bruno
  • Wyatt
  • Doc
  • Koko B. Ware - I might not be able to resist naming him this, though it'll probably get him laughed at by more legitimate dogs who will frequently get to wrestle in more important matches than him. Time has not been kind to Koko, unfortunately, but apparently, the Birdman is flying again.

*Those that know me know that I call them Rockwilderz and believe they can fly. I just didn't want new readers to think I was weird. But, just think about how awesome that would be, for a minute.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

Two things: first, you didn't mention the best part of your trip--hanging out w/ me at a rest stop in Conn.; two, I vote for "Bear."

L BO said...

Yea, cause your dad holding my hand for so long was a little traumatizing.