“When i was a young pup

I wanted to sail round the world

that’s the life for me

living on the sea”

Never thought i’d see the day.......GBS on tour in the caribbean.......middle of winter........cruise ship.......scantilly clad.......mojito breath.......boiled. 

I am referring, of course, to the Carnival Victory, and the BNL “Ships and Dip 3”. A floating music festival offering respite from the cold and replenishment for the soul. I dunno how they talked McCann into this. He usually likes to keep himself to himself and there’s really no way to do that onboard. The Newfoundland weather must have finally worn him down. Or maybe he is beginning to mellow with age (about time). Either way, it’s day 2 and he seems really happy. And that in itself is a new tour record.....

The old doll must have had a run in with a Newf (this term is OK to use when referring to canine citizens only) one nite coz I am all about boats. I keep hovering around the pool waiting for some chick to start drowning just so i can save her. Instinct. It’s what i was born to do. We r all born with it. Some have more than others and some just refuse to heed them, but i believe the reason humans (and dogs by association) are at the top of the food chain, is because we have good instincts. When in doubt, defer to your gut and u will never go to far astray. Granted , they can occasionally get u into some trouble (like before i was “fixed”), but on the whole, instinctive behaviour is a good thing.

Music is an instinctive art. There are no rules or directions. No classes u can take to make u a good songwriter (and if there r , then students beware........those who can’t....). A good song has to “feel right”. It has to strike a nerve. Move you. Connect.

Overheard McCann and Dolye working on a new masterpiece with the Carbon Leaf lads today ( a nicer bunch of american boys u will not find ). Sounded good too.  I look forward to hearing the end result. Sat in for a bit trying to wing a few royalty points but i wasn’t much help. 

Now, if only someone would fall in.....”excuse me miss, R U drowning over there?”

Tosh

Woke up this morning with the unbelieveable urge to lick my balls.  

I know it drives McCann crazy, but I was absolutely compelled to do it.  

If he had caught me, it would have meant immediate eviction from the bed for sure, leaving room for that scheming Marley to suck up to the boss (as if he were never himself compelled). Luckily, the gnarly old bastard was in a scotch induced coma and probably wouldn’t have woken up had I pooped right on his swollen head.  

Funny thing, compulsions. You know they r bad for you but u just can’t resist. The lure of the cat’s food, the delicate bones of the chicken, the rotating tire, the backside aroma of the french poodle.....all bad. All equally irresistable.  

Last summer, Mccann left a full pot of pea soup on the counter and went out to play dinkies with the boy. It didn’t take me and Marley very long to get that upended and lick the floor clean. Burned my tongue and caught a mean case of the trots. McCann didn’t talk to me for days but you know what? I would do it again tomorrow...........with Bells on.  

Why r some lessons seemingly unlearnable? I mean, I manage to pee outside now (that wasn’t easy). I will offer a paw, sit, and rollover for a friggin buscuit. But frak me if I can’t keep my tongue out of a boiling pot of pea soup! Hopeless.

McCann’s no better. He still scarfs back a whiskey and a smoke whenever he thinks he can get away with it (which is never). He still can’t drive past Leo’s without getting face and eyes into a FCDG & FO (fish, chips, dressing, gravy, and fried onoins) even though his dad almost dropped dead after enjoying such a deadly feast. Talk about a lack of self control. The man has a friggin deathwish.  

But what do I know. I’m just a beagle.

All I wanna do is lick my balls.   


Tosh