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In the news last night, there was a lot going on about the elections for prime minister that will happen in Australia tomorrow. The challenger is a dude (well, member of Parliament and everything), who is best known for breaking the arm of a taxi driver in a dispute over a fare. I don't know whether to be disgusted or delighted. I'm kind of a little of both, much to my chagrin. I mean, a broken arm hurts a lot, and I think you have to really wallop someone to break an arm. But it's just so tacky. And I love tacky.
So, Greg is coming over for Christmas vacation and we're going to see this . Guess who plays the lead role?!? David Soul. Of Starsky and Hutch "fame." But if you're really a fan, you know that his one big hit as a singing sensation, Don't Give Up on Us Baby ,is FINALLY being released as an EP. God. It took them long enough. I mean, as a point of reference, David Hasselhoff has been a big star for decades in Germany. Another thing that makes me distrust the Germans. David Hasselhoff and the Holocaust. What more do you need to know?
So I just finally got a replacement power cord for my laptop and I can finally embark upon my long-awaited quest to change my template and make all of the thingys work.
Last week there was major big dog drama because Buster got out of my yard and went off to visit some dog buddies. I was helpless to do much about it except call people, since I am in England and Buster is in Texas. A neighbor saw him and made a call and eventually two cars and the dog catcher were patrolling the area, looking for Buster. However, some lawn guys, thinking he belonged at the house he was visiting, put him in their back yard. He went inside through the dog door, so there was no way to tell from outside that he was there. To make a long story short, Buster was found and is back home. I keep thinking how funny it would have been for someone with two dogs to come home after work and find three dogs in their house, never knowing how the incremental dog got there.
I guess Buster is just a natural wanderer. We first met him after a night of Henry Rollins spoken word and drinks and dinner at the Liberty Bar. Greg's friend Darren was down for Henry and we were all pretty drunk by the time we finished dinner. Greg needed cigarettes, so we went to the Diamond Shamrock on the corner because it was open 24 hours. It was closed. But there was a big black Lab sitting by the door, staring in at the guys who were working inside. I asked one of them whose dog it was, and he said "Yours." I tried asking in another way, and asked how long the dog had been there. "Three or four hours." Well, that's all I needed to hear. So I opened the back door of the car, said "come on," Buster jumped in, and that was that. I put an ad in the paper, thinking that he might be a child's treasured pet, then hoped that no one would respond. He's such a good boy that the people who responded to the ad kind of hinted around at taking him if I didn't want him, but it was toooo late for that. I'm pretty sure he belonged to someone who went to work in a pick-up truck and wore some kind of uniform shirt, because he loves those guys. He's always trying to get into people's trucks. Once an electrician told me that he had lost a black lab at about the time we had found Buster and kept eyeing him like he was going to take Buster when I wasn't looking. Buster has a couple of bad habits -- pooping on the deck being the worst -- but all in all, he's pretty much the best dog I ever got at a gas station.
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