I wanted to write a full story but I dont have one just yet. I'm sure one will happen very soon but for now enjoy pics of my new puppy. I have yet to name him but my dad was calling him paws. I may stick with that but we shall see. ....

I was going to wait till I got some pics before I told this story but I doubt I'll have them for a while so here goes.

Before I took my vacation to the cape my dad discovered that his dog Alice was about to have pups. Alice gave him a suprise with ten pups. They have really grown in the last few weeks and as a result have lots of feces. This small factor is going to almost, I stress almost, deter me from taking one of them. Before this weeks snow storm (I'll come back to this) I was in the yard with the puppies trying to decide which one I wanted. I began to play around the yard with Alice and one of the pups followed us around. I soon forgot about Alice and concentrated on the pup. I decided that this pup will be the one I take home.

Later in the day, I was watching a movie while waiting for the hockey game to come on. Two of the pups were clowning around in the hallway. Puppy wrestling is funny to watch but sadly noisy. One of the pups looked like my new pup. The other was snapping at my pup then running away. The running pup kept coming back. As it ran away the final time it wasn't looking where it was going and ran right into the full mop bucket. Yeah I think I chose the right pup.

Now back to the snow storm. I've always had fun in the snow. I'm one of the rare people that actually like snow. Of course this does not include shovelling driveways and such. Then there are exceptions. There have been times where I would go out and shovel snow into piles and build forts or hills. This weekend had one of them occasions. Maybe I have mentioned that my dad lives on a farm. Recently he has moved to a farm that has a natural hill within it's borders. I decided to make my way out to the farm with my snowboard to enjoy some of the snowy weather since I knew I would not be working. Unfortunately upon my arrival to the farm I discover there was not nearly as much snow as there was at my home. Dissapointed but not deterred, I found a sled and a shovel. I began to move the snow around the farm to make paths for my snowboard. The paths were alright but the hill was not steep enough to fully enjoy the snowboarding.

I went inside to rest up and wait for others to return. One thing led to another and time passed till it was dark outside. A few drinks were consumed and a hockey game watched. I could not go home by this point so I did the only thing I could think of. Dressed up warm with beer in hand. Venturing out into the blizzard (the storm had followed me to the farm from my place) I grabbed the sled and proceeded to my paths. Because of the blizzard my paths were now covered over and there was lots of snow now. I set my beverage on one of the lawn chairs then set the sled in an appropriate place on one of the paths. I set it so there would be running room to benefit a slide down the not so steep hill. I ran towards the sled in the hopes of bobsledding down the path. At the last second I dove onto the sled and proceeded down the hill at seemingly breakneck speed. I am quite certain I wasn't going very fast at all but with the wind and my consumption of beverages decided it didnt' matter. I was having quite the good time and in a blizzard. I should probably mention that the path goes through a barb wire fence. Oh stop worrying, I tied it up so I had lots of space to pass safely through.

My dad had ventured outside as well to see if he could start his truck and of course to watch his crazy son play in the snow. I had decided that the sled was too much work. I retrieved my beverage and then my snowboard. The snowboard was a little more tricky because when you get to the fence you have to duck down as to not get hooked in the barb wire. After a few turns down the lousy hill I went to find the others. Apparently my antics weren't as entertaining as I had imagined they would be. Upon finding them I shouted over the wind:

Hi! My name is Johnny Knoxville, welcome to Jackass!!!!

It's not every day that you see a fire but today was one of those days for me. I drove the work truck to the shop and picked up my car to drive home. Along the way I had to stop for a train but I did not see anything else of importance. I picked up my car and began the journey back to my house when I noticed some smoke up ahead. The smoke was quite thick and close to the highway. The closer I got the thicker the smoke so the fire was just starting. It seems that someones motorcycle had burst into flames. I didn't see anyone around, other than the obvious traffic driving by. It could have been possible that the bike was parked along the side for some strange reason. But then how did it become set on fire? Hopefully I'll find out tomorrow but I must say it was quite cool to see. (the picture here is not the actual bike but a quick google image)

The rusty trombone. In all honesty I really do not want to tell the story because it is absolutely disgusting but I also must admit it is hillarious.

Working on a jobsite with a bunch of other guys tends to have its sick adult humor. I am not above this type of humor as I can be as sick as anyone if I really try. The other factor is the amount of swearing that is done. I dont just mean when we hit our thumbs with hammers or other crazy things. Just in general. Sailors do not swear as much as construction people do. Course there is always the exception. My boss is one of them. I dont think I have ever heard him swear in the year that I've known him. It will be interesting to work directly with him tomorrow with my worse than sailor tongue.

Perhaps I'll get back to the story. My first week back to work has been quite entertaining. I have two new people working on my crew. One of them is an older fella that worked with concrete for a long time. The other is a younger fella that has a bad mouth like I do. His stories are much worse though. It seems that in my absence the crew has been taking stabs at each other. Mostly it is the younger fella picking at the concrete dude. I keep hearing about a rusty trombone during my first day back. Sadly curiosity gets the better of me. By the way the conversation keeps flying back and forth I must be in on the joke because everyone is laughing but me.

What is a rusty trombone? This invention is explained to me. My semi virgin ears (and probably yours as well) almost can't handle it. I burst out laughing because of who it's directed to. You may not get the humor but picture a young fella telling an older man that he's perfected the art of a trombone, no matter the partner. (even though the younger fella has no idea what the older fella does at home) Oh alright I'll stop stalling. The trombone is a sexual maneuver for licking an ass and pulling on the male gender part at the same time. Wikipedia has a definition. Yes I know you really didn't want to know (if you didn't know already...... pervert) but for the story to be told it has to be said. Regardless I keep hearing this "joke" on a daily basis now. It gets funny in a different manor.

We were working on a home last week. (I've worked on 4 since I have been back to work, this feat is extrordinary concidering the crew I'm working with) The owner of the house has a tiny dog called chicken. Of course the trombone joke is multiplied with the addition of the dog called chicken. Yes you can imagine the choke the chicken jokes and playing with chicken. It goes on and on mixed with the occasional trombone act. I think I am working with freaks. Now I have to find out how the gerbils fit into the story. Beastiality is nothing compared to this.