Tag Archives: dog crapping

Off the reservation

Let’s run the numbers, shall we?

hours spent flying: 3.5

hours spent in airport: 11

crying children: 4

times I heard “I Shot the Sheriff” while sitting near airport Starbucks: 3

calories in a tall non-fat flavored latte: 210

cost of wireless access day pass: $7.95

cost to park car at airport: $66

hours spent with parents: 12.5

hours spent with stress-induced narcolepsy: 4

cost of flight and hotel: $750

amount of gift certificates received by Mr. H for Sharper Image: $200

things he might actually want at Sharper Image: maybe Robosapien?

amount of cash received: approx. 6 months of therapy co-pays

times i was offered cranberry bread: 9

times i was bitten by a cat: 3

moments of heart-stopping terror and pity upon opening ugly gift: 1

times i said “damn”: countless

times we saw a dog crap in the lobby of a nice hotel: 1

(pictured: actual lobby of our hotel, stunt double dog)

We’ve got a million reasons

Hold on to good friends; they are few and far between

Tonight Lambchop and I are going to loiter around the Dog Field. That’s the part of Boston Common along Beacon Street where people take their dogs to exercise as they hit on each other. It’s usually muddy and somewhat filled with feces. That sounded like a Nick Cave song to us, so we wrote “Down in the Dog Field.”

dark dogs blood rising

another tattered strumpet walks alone

i see the crooked right hand of god

O mother i’m close to home


Our tradition is to get pan-fried noodles and grape sodas from the Chinatown Eatery and perch atop the hill, surveying the romping hounds. Sometimes people approach us and ask to buy drugs, so I like to keep a bottle of Tylenol handy to make some quick cash.

Then we’re going to see Bend Over, Baltimore!.