Tribute to an All American Dog

This is my dog, Laska. She and I are pretty good friends, although I don't spend as much time with her as I wish I did. I like her because she looks like a wolf. She is a bit ferocious at times, but never without good reason.


I'm writing this blog because I feel as though my dog is a big deal to me and if I did not do something to honor her I would be doing a large disservice to hard working dogs everywhere. She is a good dog, a hard working dog, an all american dog.

She has a number of accomplishments that I can only hope to live up to, and in this tribute I am going to give a short chronological biography of her life so far: She started out where every successful creature starts out: burried in her studies.


She payed her way through school by working a part time blue color job. It didn't pay much, but she leads a simple life, so she didn't need a large income.


Eventually all her hard work paid off. She graduated with a 4.0 GPA, and was valedictorian of her class. She's not much of a public speaker, but she conquered her fears and her speech that day was nothing short of inspiring.


After graduation, she was faced with a large problem. She had many talents, but she didn't know what career path to take from there. She figured that since she was young and was often told she had a nice bone structure, she would persue her dream of becoming a model. You may remember her from the popular t.v. show "America's Next Top Model." Although she didn't win, she got many opportunities that few dogs get in their lives, and she is a dog that Tyra Banks won't soon forget.


She realized that modeling was a bit superficial for her, she couldn't take the drama. However, she still liked being in the limelight so she became a meteorologist for channel 13 news. Ratings skyrocketed because of her stellar performance.


However, meteorology just wasn't her true passion. What she really wanted was to help people. She opened a small dental practice and worked hard to create the best smiles in town.


During that time she also took on a part time job as a mall cop. Nobody crosses a dog in uniform.


After her time as a mall cop she realized she liked being an authority figure. This inspired her to become an airline pilot. She learned to fly jets, small planes, and helicopters. She has seen the world, but still her heart is in America.


Recently she and I have been talking a lot about America. She has had many experiences and is incredibly relatable. Laska and I feel strongly that the next step in her life is to run for president of the United States.


Please do your American duty and vote in 2012. Laska was born and raised in America and is proud to be an American. She is no wolf in sheep's clothing, this is the real deal. She is a natural leader and would appreciate your votes, and anything else you may have to offer in support of her candidacy.

ABQ Ride

The following took place while I was on a bus from UNM to Tramway and Central:

Sketchy old man on my right(Talking to sketchy punk on my left): Hey how are you?

Sketchy punk: I'm doing pretty good, I just moved back here.

Sketchy old man: well good to see you.

Sketchy punk (refering to me): Is this your daughter?

Sketchy old man: No. This is my lady. Hahahaha.

Me: No...

Sketchy punk proceeds to tell me that he is a self employed tattoo artist, and an aspiring hip hop artist. After casual chatting he gets off at his bus stop.

Sketchy old man: If you were my daughter I wouldn't let you talk to him.

Me: Where do you know him from?

Sketchy old man: We spent a couple months in jail together.

...

Me: Oh that's good.

How I Lost Faith in My Blood Cells

I recently got over probably one of the worst illnesses I’ve ever experienced. “What could it be?” You’re thinking, “hepatitis B? There are shots for that you know…” No. Not hepatitis B. A cough. I coughed for a month straight.


It started out innocent. An itchy throat. Slowly the itch became pain. But I comforted myself, saying “nothing a little tea can’t fix.” But then I began having to clear my throat, and eventually that lead to a cough.

I wasn’t ready to give up yet. “How long can someone cough for? Two days? I’ll be back to my old self in no time.” I continually encouraged my immune system, speaking sweet nothings to it in hopes that my blood cells would make the illness leave my body. These are supposed to be my body's attack dogs. I had faith in them. I remembered learning about this on the magic school bus.


But eventually my meager attempts to encourage my immune system to do its job failed. I lost all hope. The cough took over. I coughed and coughed and coughed. I could no longer enjoy the outside world with my friends.

I couldn’t even say a sentence without breaking into a coughing fit. It left anyone around me unsettled.



Soon my friends got the hint that I wasn’t getting better any time soon, so for the most part they stopped contacting me. Except for a few. Robo Steve gave me cold eeze for Christmas.

I couldn’t go anywhere, or do anything. All I could do was stay home inside my house. I became re-acquainted with my old Playstation 1 and the game “Crash Bandicoot 2.”

I coughed so much that my ribs began to hurt every time I went into one of my fits. And then they became so sore that they hurt any time I did anything, such as celebrate Jenny Gonzales' 18th birthday.

I finally decided that if my immune system wasn’t going to work properly, I would have to take matters into my own hands. I visited the doctor, hoping an expert could help me figure out what was wrong. I hadn't been to a doctor in years. I hadn't even met my doctor before. But I had high hopes. I imagined we would have a magical and informative meeting that would look something like this:


In reality it was nothing liket that. I told the doctor my symptoms, and emphasized the pain in my ribs. But the doctor was no help. She didn't realize that I was looking to get healthy. I think she thought I was making casual conversation.

However, I was given an anti-biotic. I was a bit suspicious at first, but science was on my side.

After a month straight of coughing, it began to slowly fade away. I could make whole sentences again, and go outside without fear of repercussions.

Two weeks after my cough went away, my ribs finally felt normal again. My blood cells just needed a little help from an outside source.

All that to say, I have had no contact with the outside world for the past month.

To put it in more simple terms:

8 things to write home about.

1.Bombay Bicycle Club

These members will soothe you when you need it most.

I suggest you press play and listen while you browse this posty post.

2. Oil Paints.

Max Ferguson

nathan durfee.

3. Planet Earth

This will make the hardest hearted person love the wild. The superior edition is BBC, narrated by a sophisticated British Gentleman.

4. Nathan Moreno

5. Animal Sweaters

The perfect thing to cuddle up while you watch a few hours of Planet Earth.

There is no better way to pay tribute to your fav. animal, than in a stylish and warm sweater.

6. Conspiracy Theories

in the mood for some intrigue?

The Bermuda Triangle

Presidential Assassination.

7.Burnese Mountain Dogs

it is the sort of dog we should all have. it is a noble beast.

8. Home Depot/ Home Depot Employees

You know you're in the right place when the floors are slick and 1 out of every 2 employees go out of their way to help you. Home Depot is a hidden treasure that should not only be kept for the handy type. They have everything you need, and the smooth isles provide an exciting and slippery time when you are wearing your best winter boots. We plan, and suggest you do as well, to make frequent visits to Home Depot. In order to... A. Increase our knowledge of tools and the like. B. to slide around. B. To spend much needed time in the light cloud.

Tick Tock

It's been a while since we've blogged. That is due to busy schedules, so please accept our appologies.



We have good things on the way, but while you're waiting, enjoy these hygiene related videos.

maybe I should faint.

they are among us.

I have been studying the Canterbury Tales in my British Literature class.

I had an assignment to write rhyming couplets about a modern pilgrim.

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There was a hipster, who stood aloof.

To recognize him you need not much proof.

He had a knack for affectation.

His unkempt appearance was not much more than an imitation.

The fine stitching in his jeans could not obscure.

His faded denim was clearly couture.

The vintage flannel which he wore

Cost forty dollars, maybe more.

In an attempt to display his apathetic disposition,

He would seldom spare an inquisition.

Many girls longed to be in his good grace.

Yet only disinterest appeared on his scruffy face.

He was always informed of the hippest beats,

To every indie show, he had front row seats.

His church attendance left nothing to be desired,

And his worship experience always seemed divinely inspired.

He had extensive knowledge of Church History,

And never hesitated to recite the Seven Mysteries.

He was well versed in poetry of all styles,

But in free form he could carry on for miles.

When it came time to eat,

He always inspected his vegan meal for meat.

Polluting the planet, he did not like.

He coasted from place to place on his bike.

The intensity of his passion for the environment,

Was demonstrated in his ability to reuse his dryer lint.

His commitments, he could rarely keep,

You knew his time was not cheap.