Here, Rico.

After nearly losing a finger last night to a crazy, pajama eating dog, I decided to run his little ass off today so he'd sleep for a week. I'm still trying to get Rico used to people, so I brought extra baby carrots for strangers to give to him as bribes.

I figured Sugarhouse park would be filled with people just ready to help feed my dog, but was surprised to run into a Hispanic birthday party of epic proportions.

Ever wonder what happens when you yell, "get here now, Rico!" when you're walking through a Hispanic birthday of epic proportions? Just hang out with me on a Sunday.

Here's Rico watching a potato sack race:

They still do potato sack races?

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Caesar Cheese

Since starting my new job, I've learned that I have to leave the office to find lunch. I can't just walk down to the path and get a Beastro salad or even a frosty Diet Coke from the Coke machine. It's a little shell shocking.

Today I visited our fine friends at Quiznos Subs because they have chicken noodle soup and salads. Though they do have Pepsi products which is a bummer.

I ordered the Caesar salad, no dressing, tomatoes or onions. When the salad maker girl asked me if I would like cheese, I asked, "Um, what kind of cheese?"

Rather than replying with "shaved Parmesan" as is usual fare, she said, "Caesar cheese." Which to me sounds like something you'd contract from someone wearing a dirty toga.

Guess that's better than "Fromunda cheese."

Behold, Caesar cheese salad:

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Puppy class blues

Tonight was Rico's first puppy class and he and I are both frustrated as shit. Not only was he labeled the problem pup within 30 seconds of walking through the door, but he and I both spent most of the class sequestered in a barrier.

In the corner.

I tried explaining to Rico that I got 4.0s in college, but he wasn't listening.

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Scary

I'm terrified of clowns. "Puppet People" a.k.a. scary-looking mascots and the folks who wear them make me uneasy. (With the exception of Jazz Bear, who I'm positive is real and not a human in a mascot costume.) But this was something extremely scary staring me down in the windshield.

And this is coming from someone who has hit a giant deer while driving a Ford Escort. This was almost scarier than having a couple of antlers aimed over your car hood. Because it was in broad daylight.

I shudder to think of the giant, sticky cotton candy this big baby would eat. Or the diaper. Think of the giant diaper, and the contents therein.