Ten Rules For Making A Good First Impression

by Thomas M. Pender

10)          One should always speak clearly and never mumble . . . unless you’re in the South, where mumbling is practically a requirement

9)            One should always place a napkin in one’s lap before dining.  This rule, however, may be waived if there is a giant talking rodent, dozens of jangling games that spit out tickets, and a hundred screaming kids about the establishment.

8)            One should never vomit on anyone with the potential to become one’s boss or spouse

7)            One should always say “Please pass the condom” as the situation (ahem) “arises”

6)            One should never attempt to spit one’s watermelon seeds or olive pits into one’s date’s cleavage for two points

5)            One should never address a police officer who has pulled one over as “Sir Sphincter, Duke of All Doughnuts”

4)            One should always be on time to pick up a date.  It may also behoove one to bring along a novel, as one on time will most likely be waiting an average of 45 minutes for one’s date to be ready.

3)            One should never scratch one’s personal areas during job interviews

2)            One should always politely ask a new neighbor to keep his pet out of one’s yard at least three times before making said pet “disappear”

and

1)            One should never attempt the “popcorn box trick” on a first date to the cinema without first . . . oh, hell, there are no polite rules to attempting the popcorn box trick.  Just go for it!

Jewel Heist, or Brutus Loses His “Marbles”

 by Thomas M. Pender

For the uninitiated, our family had the ugliest dog in Creation as a member of our family for some years.  Picture a wire-haired English bulldog.  If your stomach just turned a little, you pictured it right.

Ugly as he was, our Brutus had personality to spare.  Everything he did seemed unique and funny.  This was no less true when he got taken to the vet’s to get – how to say this delicately? – de-teste-fied.

My sister and her boyfriend Scott took him in, and according to Kristi, all the dogs were coming out of surgery stunned and woozy.  When they brought Brutus out, he was chipper and alert as ever.  Sort of a “Hey, mom!  That was a weird place to visit.  Where to next?”  Instead of the traditional “cone” dogs wear to keep them from gnawing at their stitches, Scott had a rather original idea: They put a sleeveless T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts on him, with safety pins around the middle to hold them together.  He looked like someone’s old hairy grandfather, walking around the house in his underwear.  Still, he kept his sunny disposition.  The only new thing was his interest in and challenge to getting at his ‘nads to work on the itch.  Scott and I took to saying, “What’s the matter, Brutus, don’t you have any balls? . . . Oh, sorry.”

We had heard that the operation may change his personality a bit, possibly making him a bit more timid or less energetic.  Not our Brutus.  There was no downtime, no healing period, no road to recovery with this dog.  He trotted around the house in his “old grandpa” get-up, just as eager to play and get into trouble as ever.

Aside from a missing nutsack, he was the Anusface we all knew and loved.  Bob “Bark”er would have been proud!

The best news, of course, is that there are no little Anusfaces out there for the world to cringe at when they see them.  Then again, Brutus did have siblings. . . .