Tag: Mister Boo

Power to the pee-pole!

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 14 Comments

RFD-BugI was casting around this morning for some appropriate socialist content to post on International Workers Day, but May Day 2016 seems light on revolutionary news.

So instead, here’s the latest edition of Radio Free Dogpatch, in which the proletariat (portrayed by Mister Boo) is oppressed by his bladder.

And remember, kids: When you’re smashing the State, don’t forget to keep a smile on your lips, a song in your heart, and a mop within reach.

Useful links

• Manzano Animal Clinic, which did the surgery.

• The New Orleans Jazz Festival, which did not.

• Elvis Costello. This Elvis has mos def not left the building.

• Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons. Good God, are they still at it?

• Recipes: None worth mentioning this week. Whenever Herself hits the road, I generally give myself a break from semi-elaborate cookery.

 

Boo hoo

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 10 Comments

Oh, lawd, the old tee-hees are proving elusive these days around El Rancho Pendejo.

Mister Boo’s post-surgical recuperation from bladder surgery last Wednesday has been both messier and noisier than I anticipated, and it has not helped that Herself has pissed off to New Orleans for a week on a work junket that just happens to occur in the middle of Jazz Fest.

The Big Easy, this place she is not, cher. Les bon temps, they do not rouler.

There is, however, light at the end of the tunnel. This morning The Boo took the last of his antibiotics and pain meds, and tomorrow the Cone of Shame comes off. The peeing and pooping is occurring mostly outdoors, which is nice. But I laid in another 50-pack of Boots & Barkley extra-large training pads anyway, just in case the flood returns to Katrinaesque proportions.

Well, I wish I was in New Orleans … I can see it in my dreams. …

The mayor of Cell Block O

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 15 Comments
I am not an animal! Oh, wait, I am! Never mind. ...
I am not an animal! Oh, wait, I am! Never mind. …

Welcome to Little Gitmo.

Mister Boo has had surgery to remove a bladder stone, his second trip down this surgical path, and the stone was apparently so rara an avis that the medicos have shipped it off to a university for further study.

Perhaps through their labors Boos of the future will not suffer from this malady, and the subsequent isolation it requires.

I’ve tried consoling him by noting that he, unlike Prince, is at least on the proper side of the lawn. But The Boo was never much of a “Purple Rain” kind of guy. Right now he’s happy to be making yellow rain.

 

There goes the sun

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 9 Comments
Sunrise ... sunset. ...
Sunrise … sunset. …

It may have come too soon, but yesterday’s sunset was definitely worth a squint. We were walking The Boo through the neighborhood, I had a camera with me, and that was that.

The sun set on Lindsey Graham’s pestilential campaign yesterday, too, boo hoo, boo hoo. Now the silly little hooter has to spend his time like the rest of us, shouting at the TV instead of from it. He bailed out just in time to have his name pulled from the ballot in Petticoat Junction and thus avoid a public flogging in his own back yard.

Oh, yeah. Lindsey also has his day job, which last I looked paid around $174,000 per annum. His estimated net worth after 20 years on Uncle Sammy’s payroll is a piddling $1.02 million. No wonder he’s so bitchy all the time.