Lots of dudes.

Empty bottles. Weed smoke. Wrappers. Miscellaneous containers. Broken things. Piss splattered all over the shitter. Weird wet spots on the floor. Cell phone charger sinew. Stacks of slides. Stacks of magazines. Dirty socks. Beer bottles. Heavily-stickered laptops. A guy who is half Puerto Rican and half Irish. One can of Skoal. High hopes. Fear. Color trepidation. An RV shoehorned into the driveway. Little Sasha running around screaming and laughing. Humming external hard drives. Blinking cellphones. Backpacks in all stages of disarray. Power cords of all sorts. Magic.

And one Gary barking at every goddamn thing that isn’t nailed down.

Speaking of “The Little Man,” Gary went to “doggie daycare” today for the first time. It was hard leaving him there, as, well, “you never leave a man behind,” but, well, we had to do it.

The little man has to socialize with other dogs. That, and, the boys were feeding him a little too much of this-n-that the last couple days which have resulted in little Pantone 450c piles of vomit around the house. Poor little man. The gal at the daycare said he did a fair share of barking for the first couple hours, then, met up with a beagle and spent the rest of the day playing. When I [picked him up he was pooped like I’ve never seen him pooped before. Little shit fell asleep not 20 blocks up Sandy Boulevard.

Pages are getting built and tuned, with favorable results.

A “Bravo” to Jeff Baker for the pile he managed to amass. “Hat off” to Mark Sullivan for getting us a ton of real estate. A “Real Good” to Basher for the product photography. A “Hardy-Har” to 2’s for multiple reasons. A “Split that pixel!” to Zimmerman for color muscle. An “Awww yeah!” to Nuñez for polishing things up. And one heavily Danzig’d “Mother…” to Liz for the P’s and Q’s.