Oh Good Grief Daddy

These days, I can’t let my so called human daddy go anywhere.  He *always* gets into some type of trouble.  St. Patrick’s Day is March 17th.  Dad, the ever loving-gotta-have-some-fun with the holiday, went out on a mission to find some trouble fun.

Now, my dad is part Irish so he thinks this holiday is made for him – snorts

Today, dad found a drinking buddy.  This little guy that dad named O’Donnell sits on his shoulder so that he doesn’t have to drink alone.  And when dad does start to drink, not only does he have a drinking buddy but I’m sure after a few, O’Donnell will even start to talk to him – snorticles.  Good grief.

And just a note.  With dad being part Irish, he once grew a mustache and beard.  You guessed it.  It was redder than O’Donnell’s beard.  He was going to grow one for St. Patrick’s Day but mom said absolutely not.  Dad replied by telling mommy, “You’re not the boss of me.”  Well, you see who won that argument – snorts.

But never fear, even with dad’s Irish roots he doesn’t even drink alcohol.  I guess mom will change the color of his sweet tea to green with a little green dye.  That should make him merry just the same!

 

Oh Good Grief Daddy

These days, I can’t let my so called human daddy go anywhere.  He *always* gets into some type of trouble.  St. Patrick’s Day is March 17th.  Dad, the ever loving-gotta-have-some-fun with the holiday, went out on a mission to find some trouble fun.

Now, my dad is part Irish so he thinks this holiday is made for him – snorts

Today, dad found a drinking buddy.  This little guy that dad named O’Donnell sits on his shoulder so that he doesn’t have to drink alone.  And when dad does start to drink, not only does he have a drinking buddy but I’m sure after a few, O’Donnell will even start to talk to him – snorticles.  Good grief.

And just a note.  With dad being part Irish, he once grew a mustache and beard.  You guessed it.  It was redder than O’Donnell’s beard.  He was going to grow one for St. Patrick’s Day but mom said absolutely not.  Dad replied by telling mommy, “You’re not the boss of me.”  Well, you see who won that argument – snorts.

But never fear, even with dad’s Irish roots he doesn’t even drink alcohol.  I guess mom will change the color of his sweet tea to green with a little green dye.  That should make him merry just the same!

 

Food Porn – To Twist or Not To Twist That is the Question

    Here in this picture we see shrimp pasta – does’t it look delicious?  This comes from one of mom/dad’s favorite restaurants called Red Lobster.  They just love their shrimp pasta.  They were sharing this dish and I was looking at it when it dawned on me about something.  Look closely at the picture and kind of lean your head to the left.  You see there are two forks.  Now let’s talk about techniques in the eating of pasta shall we.  I’ve learned that this is a treacherous position to take with some folks but I’m up for the piggy challenge.  Are you?

Now, personally, I would just chomp that fine looking shrimp pasta all down without coming up for air.  It looks great to me.  But humans, they use forks and manners which dad reminds me of often that I don’t have.  Hmmpphh – so says the man who burps the alphabet huh?

Dad believes in the fork straight down and twist to get all pasta in one giant happy scoop.  Mom is not a twist kind of person.  She believes in ‘cutting’ the pasta and then scooping it up to her awaiting mouth.  Why does she do this?  She says because as a child her dad would play tic-tac-toe with her on spaghetti night.  Come again mom?  Have you been drinking the vodka today already?

Really, she says that spaghetti night was hard for a kid to learn the twist thing.  So her dad would make a tic-tac-toe chart on her plate breaking up the spaghetti and ‘cutting’ it into the pattern.  He would then challenge her to the game and eating it.  Thus, this is why she cuts it.  Does that make sense?  A nearly fifty something still playing with her food.  And mom/dad fuss at me for playing with mine.  Some things are just not fair.

So the question is my friends – to twist or not to twist.

 

 

 

 

 

25 Days of Christmas

 

31 Days of Spook – The Wood Pile Devil

Welcome my friends to the first day of my 31 Days of Spook!  We love this time of year here at the Hotel Thompson.  It’s one of my busiest months trying to keep all of you my friends in blogville just at the right amount of teeth chattering, sitting on the edge and being scared of your own shadow.  I hope that you stay with me all month and enjoy my 31 Days of Spook.  Today, I start off my tales from a special scary story from my brother Easy.  What exactly was seen that can not be unseen in the middle of the night?  Read the story to find out and be sure to let Easy know your thoughts.  Now, lock the doors and shut the windows… you might even want to turn on a light – boo!

It happened many moons ago to the boyfriend of my mommas friend. That boyfriend had a granny who lived in a small village behind the 7 mountains near Nowheresville. Every year in Shocktober, the people there celebrated a kind of a harvest festival, called Kirmes.  That year, the guy invited his girlfriend and my momma to visit that fest and his granny agreed to let them stay over night.

They celebrated with the people of the small village and the booze ran like the Niagara Falls. After they were well filled, my mom and her friend walked to the home of that granny, placed the empty popcorn buckets next to their bed and fell asleep, while the boyfriend found no end and was glued to the beer-fountain.

In the early morning, they woke up by flashing lights and hullaballoo in front of the house. It was caused by the boyfriend who called the police…

BECAUSE:

As he went home plastered like the yellow brick road, he saw a movement next to a wood pile on the yard of his granny. And he swore by the sun and the moon and the stars and by all brewsky of slice earth that he saw the face of the devil what peeked around that wood pile. He could describe every part of the devilish face and he gave the pawlice all details that they could make a fabulous composite sketch.

Butt the pawlice was eggstremely farouche and they refused to start a dragnet operation. They brought no dogs and hey refused to pulverize the woodpile with machine guns and silver bullets nor would they throw grenades on that pile – Come on pawlice! That’s denial of assistance in an emergency case… and hey, that’s YOUR CHANCE to save the world from the evil.

Sadly the pawlice wasn’t keen to earn endless fame and famousness and after some dingy comments about barflies and drunkards they left the crime scene.  And that pawlice actually had the nerve to send a bill for the pawlice operation… 170 bucks… for nothing.

Yes, I know… if more alcohol than blood runs in our veins, it happens that we see “things”… but this guy was scared to death and he was sober with fear immediately. And also the next day he swore that he saw His Diabolic Majesty in the furs… and even as my mom met him by chance some years later, he told her the same story… and he swore again that he saw the devil….

We don’t know what or whom this guy saw that night, but with his detailed description I made an identikit, just in case you walk home once from a harvest festival …
VIOLA… here we have it …

 

Mom Get Your Beaver Off the Table

Oh dear friends.  This is exactly what I overheard daddy telling mommy.  “Get your beaver off the table.”  Then, I went and looked at mom’s pictures on her phone and find her beaver on the table!  I was shocked.  I was in awe.  I was almost piggy mortified.

But as I do sometimes, I get ahead of myself.  You see when mom/dad met up with Shoko and Kali’s parents in Alabama, they exchanged gifts.  One of the gifts was this beaver – and don’t worry Shoko and Kali’s mom has a matching one.  Snorts – astonishing I know!  Those two brought their matching beavers drinking and out to a restaurant!  Can you imagine what everyone thought when they put them on the table?

And mom’s little beaver was drinking.  There goes any sanity that might have been thought about that night.  And then… they named their beavers.  Rolls piggy eyes.  I guess if men can name their toys, girls can too.  Snorts with laughter.

Mom named hers Billy.  That sounds like a good old southern name doesn’t it?  Well – oinks – you know there has to be a story behind that name.  You see for the longest time mom/dad watched this television show called Billy the Exterminator.  Billy was one of the main guys on the show along with his mom, dad and brother.  In their business, they would go to houses and make unwanted animals go away like roaches, snakes, mice, squirrels, etc.  One time, his mom called Billy for a job on removing some beavers.  She gave him the information and told him, “Billy, go get that beaver.”  Now, there is just something so wrong with a mom telling her son, “Go get that beaver”.  Shakes piggy head in amusement.  Maybe it was the way she said it?  I’m not sure.  But it was so funny that daddy fell off the couch laughing.

So today my friends, I leave you with this cute little beaver I found on the internet.  Have a great Monday!

And P.S.  Thank you so much my friends Jean and Bill (Kali and Shoko’s parents) for the beaver.  This little guy has gotten around into a lot of places – don’t worry the camera has followed him – snorts.

 

Oh Good Grief Daddy

These days, I can’t let my so called human daddy go anywhere.  He *always* gets into some type of trouble.  St. Patrick’s Day is March 17th.  Dad, the ever loving-gotta-have-some-fun with the holiday, went out on a mission to find some trouble fun. 

Now, my dad is part Irish so he thinks this holiday is made for him – snorts

Today, dad found a drinking buddy.  This little guy that dad named O’Donnell sits on his shoulder so that he doesn’t have to drink alone.  And when dad does start to drink, not only does he have a drinking buddy but I’m sure after a few, O’Donnell will even start to talk to him – snorticles.  Good grief.

And just a note.  With dad being part Irish, he once grew a mustache and beard.  You guessed it.  It was redder than O’Donnell’s beard.  He was going to grow one for St. Patrick’s Day but mom said absolutely not.  Dad replied by telling mommy, “You’re not the boss of me.”  Well, you see who won that argument – mom!  snorts.

But never fear, even with dad’s Irish roots he doesn’t even drink alcohol.  I guess mom will change the color of his sweet tea to green with a little green dye.  That should make him merry just the same!

 

 

Dear Bacon

Dear Bacon – The humans went to bed without letting me in.  What’s a kitty to do?  I “hung out” all night thinking that someone in this place might come to the door.  I mean scratching on the window panes with these nails didn’t give them a hint that I was at the door – or the howling I was doing.  Dude – these humans are hard at taking a hint.  Signed Avon Calling

Dear Avon Calling – Dude, let me give you a couple of hints.  First up – if my humans heard nails on a window pane or howls that I know you purr things can make that sound like babies or such, they would be UNDER the bed hiding from the ghosts and ghouls.  Second up – If it’s like my abode, there is a curfew and the humans mean business with their curfew times.  Next time, be on time so you can get inside of the house.  Oh and you might want to go check on your humans.  I think I can hear their teeth chattering all the way here at the Hotel Thompson.

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 Dear Bacon – Doctors tell the humans that one glass of red wine is good for their health.  I think this can qualify for us anipals right?  And hey, one glass so I got the biggest glass possible.  Cheers my friend.  Signed Winey

Dear Winey – For some reason, I don’t think red wine has the same benefits to us that it does the humans.  Then again I may be wrong.  Can you pass me the bottle to fill up my glass.  Bottles Up.  I’m so grapeful!  Snorts.

 

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 Dear Bacon – My neighbors are characters… well at least that’s what my parents say.  You see there is a hole in the fence between our two houses.  My favorite thing to do is to stick my head in the fence to see what is going in their yard.  Sometimes it’s better than what’s going on in mine.  But for some reason, the past couple of times I’ve stuck my head in the hole, the neighbors snort and roll with laughter.  I don’t get it.  Do you?  Signed Moose

Dear Moose – Oh My Pig!  That is priceless my friend – I mean PRICELESS!  I think your neighbors have the bestest sense of humor.  It reminds me of my dad’s sense of humor here and the picture looks like something my dad would do.  Snorts.

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 Dear Bacon – You know what they say about it’s take a village?  Well, here is the proof.  We’ve watched the humans go to this magical box in the kitchen.  They push this button and water magically appears.  We were shocked and amazed to say the least.  Me and Fido got together and came up with a plan.  He would lend me his back and I would investigate cause you know us purr things are better with our hands 🙂 So, I did and guess what.  Water magically does appear when you push the button – awesome!  Of course it was kind of hard to explain the puddle on the floor near the box.  I just blamed it on Fido.  Hey – it’s what us kitties do, right?  Signed Cleo

Dear Cleo – Snorts!  That is totally awesome!  I don’t see one of those magical water thingies on our box here at the Hotel Thompson.  I think you have hit the mother load of an endless fountain.  And hey, Fido probably had it coming, right?  Snorts.

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Dear Bacon – I’ve heard you talk about Mouse Girl at your Hotel Thompson.  I think she is absolutely beautiful, stunning so glorious and her eyes just capture my heart.  I wanted to meet her so I was going to mail myself to her.  It didn’t work so well though.  When the postman opened the mailbox, he jumped pretty high for an old guy.  I was kind of amazed.  Who knew that he was afraid of cats?  Signed Leo

Dear Leo – Oh goodness.  I just don’t know what to say.  Postman can jump huh?  Maybe we should make a movie out of that.  I think it could be something that the anipal world would love to see.  Purr things make them jump and then barky things can chase them.  It would be a great adventure!

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Remember my friends – Dear Bacon can’t happen without *YOU*.  Keep sending me your letters and pictures to work every week.

 

 

Dear Forrest – SPECIAL EDITION

 Hello my friends.  Welcome to another great issue of Dear Bacon.  This week, we have another guest helping me out with my issue.  Today, my friend Forrest and Fozziemom are stepping in for me to do a special edition of Dear Forrest.  Be sure to visit them at their blog and check them out – let them know what a great job they did – thanks Forrest and Fozziemom!

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Dear Forrest,
Save a horse, ride a piggy – BOL. This is my gal pal Susie. The other farm animals think we are crazy. We are. Crazy in love! Do you think it’s cool? Signed Sam and Susie

Dear Sam and Susie,
I think the other farm animals are jealous…inter species can work…even if it does seem a bit odd. You loves who you loves so I say go for it! And yes it is way cool!

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Dear Forrest,
Since they added the word “selfie” to the dictionary, we thought we would try it. We think it’s a work in progress. Have you tried this? Signed Say Cheese

Dear Cheese,
I must say I have tried selfies myself and it always ends up with booger shots..or drool. I think you have the crazy eye down pat though. Keep it up.   I have seen some pretty bad human ones BOL BOL

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Dear Forrest,
They say you can be anything you want. I wanted to be a pineapple. What kind of fruit would you be? Signed Piney

Dear Piney,
Well if you want to look like Camen Miranda then I say I like it veryyyy much.  As for me, if I had to be a fruit I would be a banana.  Then I could split whenever it got too much BOL BOL

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Dear Forrest,
Dude. The beach is so totally awesome. The water is rad. Do you hang five bro? Signed Surfer Bark

Dear Surfer Bark,
Man you are hangin’ more than five my friend.  You might take off if them ears get any more steam behind them BOL.  I hang 5 in the dam. It’s usually followed by mum landing flat BOL …wonder what that counts as BOL

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Dear Forrest,
I look fat. Maybe it’s my ears? Maybe it’s that bunny tail? Maybe it’s the beer talking from another bottle down? Can you help out a bunny? What do you think? Signed Fatbun

Dear Fatbun,
I think you are standing in front of the wrong mirror my friend. You look fine to me..nice and plump and round and delish…oops I mean fine. Sorry, I get side tracked by bunnies. I think if you were here at my place I could help you exercise..do you like to run? BOL

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Thanks to Fozziemom and Forrest for another great issue.  Remember my friends, these Dear Bacon issues can’t happen without you 🙂  Remember to send your pictures and questions to me at baconthompson@gmail.com

 

Oh Good Grief Daddy

These days, I can’t let my so called human daddy go anywhere.  He *always* gets into some type of trouble.  St. Patrick’s Day is Monday, March 17th.  Dad, the ever loving-gotta-have-some-fun with the holiday, went out on a mission to find some trouble fun.  I will share what he found today and tomorrow.

Now, my dad is part Irish so he thinks this holiday is made for him – snorts

Today, dad found a drinking buddy.  This little guy that dad named O’Donnell sits on his shoulder so that he doesn’t have to drink alone.  And when dad does start to drink, not only does he have a drinking buddy but I’m sure after a few, O’Donnell will even start to talk to him – snorticles.  Good grief.

And just a note.  With dad being part Irish, he once grew a mustache and beard.  You guessed it.  It was redder than O’Donnell’s beard.  He was going to grow one for St. Patrick’s Day but mom said absolutely not.  Dad replied by telling mommy, “You’re not the boss of me.”  Well, you see who won that argument – snorts.

But never fear, even with dad’s Irish roots he doesn’t even drink alcohol.  I guess mom will change the color of his sweet tea to green with a little green dye.  That should make him merry just the same!