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It's an old, fake scandal, but maybe it will light a fire under the other BlogNACkers bums.
More old starwars pics here
I just found out about this feature last week. My sister and I were trying to find a restaurant and the cabbie didn't know where it was. A friend of hers just said google it and worked his magic. The cabbie almost crapped himself. If the cabbies haven't caught on, I figure you all might need some help on this as well.
For those unfamiliar with Moose's life, there is a nice brief summary of his accomplishments on www.thepoop.com (Harlan K-Poo, I think this website is calling your name...). Included in this biography: "A Jack Russell terrier born in Florida as one of ten pups, Moose graduated from Orlando University with a bachelor's degree in obedience. He taught sign language after college at Canine Corral, but he grew tired of teaching and decided to give show business a try." And the rest was history...
Many people were personally touched by experiences shared with Moose. Their stories can be found here:
http://www.thepetpress-la.com/articles/eddie.htm
http://www.thepoop.com/mediahounds/frasier/default.asp
http://www.rateitall.com/i-14256-eddie-frasier.aspx
And, a must-read: http://www.usatoday.com/news/health/spotlight/2001-06-04-dog-bites.htm
Some final words about Moose:
On Frasier, Moose's character Eddie was "known for responding to Martin and Daphne with human-like understanding, but often seem[ed] to taunt Frasier. An early recurring gag had Eddie staring unceasingly at Frasier, to Frasier's increasing annoyance."
It doesn't matter that the story [of the movie "My Dog Skip" in which
Moose played the title character] (adapted by Gail Gilchriest) is
closer to TV drama than, say, the classic southern poignancy of Carson
McCullers. It doesn't even matter that no one sounds as if they've been anywhere
south of Dover, Del. – except Harry Connick Jr., who provides the narration for
the older Willie.
What matters is a Jack Russell terrier licking Willie's face. Or bounding up a tree to catch a squirrel. Or sneaking a slurp of Dad's drink while the old man's reading the paper. Or nearly disappearing into a commode as he tries to drink the water.
So touching, so poignant.
Moose, you will never be forgotten here at BlogNAC.
When I was a young school girl all the other little girls had Polly Pockets and Tamogatchis. Daddy wouldn't let me have either and I never forgave him for that. But, now that I am a man I make my own rules and I am going to get a whole family of mouse lemurs to play with me all the time. I will get enough mouse lemurs so that when I lose a couple of them like the pieces of a Polly Pocket and kill a few like any good virtual pet owner, I will still have several to play with.
I was mistaken. What I found on the other end of the url was video of what appears to be a musical group call Bacon Shoe playing live at a bar/club. I immediately was hooked, at first by the bacon that Mr. Ruggles was cooking on stage and once my boss left the office by the "music."
A little about Bacon Shoe from Kansas City's The Pitch: "This trio — consisting of an MC (Lethal D) who raps about sex and disease, a hype man ('Toine) who shouts out the number of beers he happens to be holding and calls himself "the cocktopus" (because I got eight dicks), and a guy in a paramedic suit and mangled dog-head mask (Mr. Ruggles) who cooks bacon on a griddle onstage and distributes it to the crowd — treads the line recklessly between insult and tribute.
Bacon Shoe, when you are in DC let me know, I got the booze, you got the bacon.
Update: The emailer was not a stranger at all, but a dear friend and Black, White and Pink party-going enthusiast Sandro. I apologize for any emotional trauma that my calling you a stranger may have had.