Time for a Dirtbunny Update

ISSUE NUMBER 1:

On Monday, Bunny's Special Sweetheart starts his radiation therapy, and today he is getting a whole big-ass diagnostic panel worked up. He will be going to the vet every Monday through Friday for the next four weeks. The Dirtbunny veterinary shuttle service can hardly wait.

Doesn't he have the cutest dog butt ever? I hope his side effects aren't going to be too bad.

ISSUE NUMBER 2:

The pipes, they are leaking:

But now we have a shiny new non-corroded trap and the Bunny kitchen is back in business.

ISSUE NUMBER 3:

The gravel between the paving stones in Dirtbunny's 1.8 billion dollar yard are more interesting than anything on The Mall except the Lincoln Memorial. So says Nephew Peter (age FIVE!), and So Say We All. For a while, these were the most important items in the universe:

There they sit, on the retaining wall, forgotten perhaps by some, but forever memorialized here on the interwebs

ISSUE NUMBERS 4 and 5:

----four----spring has sprung-ish, as evidenced by our lovely crocuses, which were not here on Sunday when the gravel was so very important.

--five--and as lovely as the crocuses are in this photo, they are outshined/outshone/outshane (OK, not "outshane," not really) by what is next to them.


There are not many reasons good enough to entice Dirtbunny to go to Maryland. For this, however, I would even go to Rockville, Maryland. Fortunately, Jesus is not asking that of me (Thanks, JC!) What are they? They are TICKETS, people. Glorious, wonderful futbol tickets for A.C. Milan & Chelsea (booo) in Baltimore in July. This is my big chance! With any luck, either The Man or Dirtbunny will be carrying Andrea Pirlo's love child by August. (The Man probably has a better shot, despite the mutual heterosexuality. Bunny doesn't make a good first impression. She's more of an acquired taste.)

Ooooh, here he is, ole Sleepy himself with our boy ADP. What? Is he not doing it for you? OK, you have two choices. You can wait, and he'll grow on you, I promise. Or, you can look for pictures of him in his European-style-not-exactly-a-speedo-swimsuit, and when you find them, you'll probably change your mind.

ISSUE NUMBER 6:




New yarn yesterday, posed here next to the almost-done dog bed.

It's the March sock club sock, designed by our friend Yarn Harlot. The pattern looks fussy, and that had better not be embroidery I see there. Guess what the name of the colorway is (or "colourway," if you are Canadian).

It's "Gertrude Skein." Hahahahahahahahahahaha

hahahahaha

[*still laughing*]

whew

ISSUE NUMBER 7:

I have changed my mind. Nicki is back in. I just love him too much to let him go, despite his rather serious flaws. But he can't come to training camp. I've decided to loan him out to God's Team, JC United, where he can play with Ricki Kaka. Let him go out and do some good, just leave the gay alone. I'm not going to his Monday convert-the-gay meetings, but he's invited to my Thursday night meetings, where we have wine, women, The Man, yarn, song, farting, beagles, futbol, take-out food, curse words, fellowship, and (often) an 8 o'clock phone call from the Old Folks.

ISSUE NUMBER 8:

Speaking of FC Dirtbunny, here's two new call-ups:

Luca Toni, Azzurri striker, and Franck Ribery, French midfielder, who are currently teammates on Bayern Munich. Also, best friends and possibly lovers.

Action sequence! Look out!

Haha. Bunny is drole.



So these guys are the other Odd Couple. (We'll talk about the Original Odd Couple some other time.) Looooca is a huge, largely immobile, uncoordinated, gorgeous, goal-scoring machine (for Bayern, anyway. He's not so much with the scoring when he's in the Azzurri kit). His job is to stand in the box with his hand up in the air, holler for the ball, and wait for someone to give him the ball, which he then heads into the goal, and when he's not offside, it actually counts as a goal. He can't make plays. He can't run. He can't dribble. He can't handle the ball. He can flop. He is an excellent flopper. Also, he can dive, to the extent that diving is different from flopping.


Franck is short and, umm, not so handsome. He can score goals all by himself, and he does, but he is also the one who gives Looooca the ball and makes Looooca look like an athlete. Franck can make plays. Franck can run. Franck can dribble. Franck can handle the ball. Franck gets fouled--a lot--and does not flop. Nor does he dive. Which is not to say that he doesn't have a little attitude problem. Word is, during winter training camp in Abu Dhabi or Dubai or somewhere, he stole the team bus and wrecked it, which was way cool----I mean, which was horribly immature and not at all what one would expect from a professional.


Franck and Loooca even get injured together and hang out in the stands together.




Whatever Franck's sellin', Loooca's not buyin'. Even in that Elmer Fudd hat with the cellphone plastered to his ear and douche-ily ignoring the pal right next to him tryin' to talk to him, Loooca brings the hot. Dirtbunny's midfield is rather weak right now (see issue number 9) and Loooca can't function without brilliance in the midfield, so he'll probably sit on the bench with me for a while, and we'll talk about hats.




And moustaches.

And tanning booths. And flopping in a more convincing manner. By the way, Hi there, Mr. Kaladze!


ISSUE NUMBER 9:




And how exactly is FC Dirtbunny doing, anyway?


Not so good. Our injury list is growing. Currently broken are Rino, Deco, Cesc, and Camoranesicamoranesicamoranesi. That leaves Franck alone in the midfield. Loooca is useless without a midfield. Gio is semi-broken but toughing it out in a zorro mask post-surgery. We need more at fullback and we need an architect. We need some subs, especially at goal since Gigi tends to be accident-prone. Fortunately, FC Dirtbunny has infinite funds. Also, league play is on hiatus for world cup qualifiers, so it's a good time for rebuilding.




ISSUE NUMBER 10:

Football is suffering.

[Capi (broken and stone-faced) and Sleepy (suspended and weeping) after the loss that bounced gli Azzurri out of the Euros unconscionably early last summer]