TAILS FROM THE BOO BOO SIDE

I know it may seem like I don’t love Chewy with my observations of him. I do. The lil flurry nut licker has created his own space in my heart and made it has own. In saying that, my frustration level with this dog reaches untold heights with some of the stuff he does.

Every living thing on the planet has to expel excess waste from its system. I don’t know any of them though, that make as big of a production of it as Chewy does. The truly odd thing is he didn’t always do it! Now that he’s all of 1 year old, he’s picking up some odd habits that are seriously undermining my confidence as a dog owner.

You know the little routine dogs do right before they drop a deuce? That’s make a stinky for my European friends. The routine is they find a spot they like, turn around in a circle a few times, then deliver the package, really easy, very simple, very effective. It takes 5 seconds at most for them from start to finish. Chewy? He will do the sniffing around bit normal enough, but the turning around a few times he needs to work on. He freakin’ makes me dizzy from the number of times he turns around. Then he stops, changes direction, then does the same thing again! I built a special device that records dog’s thoughts. What?! Oh, so a black man can’t invent miraculous inventions?? Anyway, through the power of my amazing device I created we now know what Chewy contemplates while deciding where to take a dump. “OkOkOkOk, maybe here, or here.. or here. Nonono all wrong, all wrong. Here might be good. Wait! No. Wait! Yes! Actually… OkOkOkOk. Uuumm…Yeahyeahyeah, this is perfect! Then again…” It’s like he’s the doggy Woody Allen. Then, 5 minutes of chasing his tail, he looks up at me with this look that says, “I can’t go with you looking at me. You make me nervous.” Cheese and rice Chewy! Just cop a squat and handle your business! You’re a dog! Crapping in public is fine because I’m the one who has to pick your shit up!

And lately, Chewy is on some sadistic level bowel movements with WHERE he’s craping lately. Now, he’s taking dumps on dog crap already on the ground! Once is luck, twice is unusual, four times in a row and the little fucker is doing it on purpose. Why? No clue, but it’s just wrong on so many levels. Damn you Chewy! I wanna be able to pick your shit up without having moral and ethical dilemmas. Oh, something else unnatural he’s doing, backing his ass up on trees that have grown at an angle so he can crap on a tree. (-_-) Soo NOT funny. I shit you not, I mean, can you imagine the level of cunning and deviousness needed to come up with something like that?? Taking a shit ON a tree?? Not the roots people! But the muthafuggin TRUNK of the tree! Imagine walking down a street and seeing a black man scraping shit off of a tree muttering to a dog, “Who taught you this Chewy?? Did you learn this from your brother Brutus? Shittin on a tree, a tree Chewy? A muthafuggin TREE?? I’m taking yo ass to a doggie psychologist cause I know this stems from something DEEP!” You’d think I was crazy wouldn’t you? To make it worse, as I said before, Chewy is only hearing, “Blahblahblah blah blah blahblah Chewy. Blah blah Chewy.” I feel obligated to scrape the shit off the tree because it’s winter. My over-thinking self can just picture the stuff freezing on the tree and some lil kid or short bus rider walking by thinking it’s some new exotic urban fungi. Next thing you know I have a letter in the mail from a lawyer being sued for poisoning someone’s kid.

Another thing Chewy does which I’m trying to break him of is taking things off my coffee table and chewing them up. He’s especially fond of headphones, Airwaves chewing gum, business cards and the last, toothbrushes. Well, Chewy doesn’t chew on toothbrushes, he eats them. No joke! He really eats them. I left an old toothbrush on the table, forgetting to throw it away. I went to work, came back a few hours later and I only found half a toothbrush. Really, half of it was gone, disappeared, vanished. I thought Chewy had snapped it in two and hid the other half. Didn’t think too much about it, but in the back of my mind I kinda sorta thought he could’ve eaten it, but wasn’t convinced. I give Chewy the empty toilet paper spools, which he loves, and rips them to shreds, but not EAT. Well, I took Chewy with me to Karl-Marx Straße later that day. For people who don’t know Berlin at all, Karl-Marx Straße is like the ghetto Mecca shopping area of my neighborhood. This street is always packed also, especially on Fridays like it was that day. I’m waiting with Chewy outside H&M for someone to come out and Chewy starts yelping really loud. Of course everyone turned around to see why, including me. Chewy is one of the quietest dogs ever. He never makes a peep! I love him for that. So when he makes noise, I take it seriously. Then his yelps got even more desperate and louder. I was on my knees checking him all over to see what was wrong, speaking to him softly, petting him to calm him down, nothing was working. Then, Chewy assumes the position, the boo boo position. I’m like “Uh-oh”, we’re on a busy street and this of course is the ONE time I’m caught with no plastic poop bags. With the amount of noise Chewy is making I’m worried he might be giving birth. His cries get louder and shriller; a couple of people even stop to ask me if he’s Ok. Then, out of Chewy’s ass pops a damn aquarium pebble. You know those rocks they put in the bottom of aquariums that are all multi-florescent colored? It looked exactly like that. I of course was like WTF?? I’m honestly baffled. Chewy is still pushing and yelping and more aquarium rocks come out of his butt. Then, an actual turd came out next. It literally looked like someone had taken this piece of crap and rolled it around in a Trix cereal batter. It was a kaleidoscope turd of green, blues and yellows. But if you put that one up to your eye I don’t think you’d see anything pretty. This homeless guy selling the Motz (a homeless paper) ambles over to give me his two cents worth, “I’d take that dog food back if I were you. Not doing your dog right in the stomach.” You think I would intentionally feed my dog food that makes his crap look like THAT?? Get outta my face. By now, Chewy is looking hurt UP. His legs are trembling, he’s still whimpering and crying out, he’s pleading with his eyes to help him. What could I do? Then he pushed out another alien turd. This time though, I recognized something… are those..wait…are those toothbrush bristles? You are pushing out a hard bristle toothbrush Chewy?? Poor Chewy! No wonder he was in so much pain. I bet those bristles were wearing his little asshole OUT. Finally he finished. Chewy was fucking ESTATIC! He was doing the Chewy dance where he twists his body so his head is near his butt and shakes his tail so hard his entire body shakes. Only problem now is, we’re on a main street with no plastic bag or even tissues. The person I was waiting for came out of H&M and I pointed to the pile of LSD excrement Chewy produced. She was like, “Oooooooh, what’s thaaaaat? Wait!? Is that kaka?? Ew! What did he eat!?” I still get tears in my eyes from laughing so hard thinking about that. She thought it was pretty at first. She sounded like a little kid seeing cotton candy for the first time, then realizing there is a bugger on it. Whew! Oh man, I think Chewy learned his lesson. Either way, that’s my dawg!

AROUSAL

You know those nightmares where even after you’ve woken up and began your day, the residual chill and fear you experienced the night before clings to the crevices of your psyche like sand between your toes after a day at the beach? That was the last 2 years of my life. I felt like I was in this fluid nightmare state whose grasp I couldn’t completely break free of. The inexplicable thing about the entire situation is, I wasn’t aware of the depth of my despair. I had no idea how far into the abyss I had waded. I’d created this alternate universe, a bizzaro world if you will of epic proportions, I wasn’t deserving of love, I was a fool to believe anyone would ever love me, no one was to be trusted and worst of all, my love had no power. The list goes on and on, and on..and on… I was so profoundly lost that the very notion of discovering a way out, finding me in the darkness seemed unfathomable, I was broken, but didn’t know what was broken and even if I did know where the breakdown had occurred, I was terrified I didn’t have the tools to rectify the situation. That feeling, frustration stacked on top of confusion, pressed upon disillusion caught upon insecurity creates a hopelessness of the worst kind.

I know I’m not the only person who has shed hot tears of dismay at night while writhing in tangible agony feeling powerless to make the aching stop, then, at daybreak, clutching at mental hooks to keep your sanity as you sleep walk through another meaningless day. The only sound is the loneliness you’re surrounded in echoing off the walls you’ve barricaded yourself behind. The only sensation the change between utter numbness or extreme fear. In quiet moments you find yourself wishing for that magical sleep where once you open your eyes you've begun the next lifetime where things may be better because they can't get any worse.

This desolate picture I’m painting only consists of swirls of gray, splashes of black and dabs of indigo blue. Yet, I had other colors available. There was a full pallet of intense yellows, brilliant greens and fiery reds ready to be incorporated into my life. I just was blind to anything outside my tunnel vision of depression.

Even now, as I squint in the light of remembrance, I sit back in amazement when confronted with the simple truth. I was never imprisoned in a world of darkness; I only had my eyes squeezed tight to brilliance. My solitude was entirely self-imposed. While I believed I was fighting against a current of blackness, in reality I was fighting against the arms of those who loved me reaching out to embrace me. When my insecurity had warped my mind and convinced me I was adrift in a sea of criticism, in actuality I was floating in a calm lagoon of encouragement. Worst of all, when I felt there was no one, with only the reverberations of emptiness to answer my cries for help, those rebounds were the voices of loved ones pleading with me to only open my eyes.

Now, after so many lost moments of being closed so long to the flame of possibility, my eyes are finally open. Completely, 100% open and I can see for miles in all directions and I can see the smiles of everyone who were waiting expectantly for me to rejoin them again in this life. Well, almost everyone… When people ask me now how I am doing, I always answer truthfully, amazing. Ninety days without sex is not my goal for the small minded people who read this, learning to always keep my eyes open is the ultimate target, open and facing the radiance of me. Day 10, and the learning continues…

RIPPLE EFFECT

This wasn’t meant to be my next blog, but when does life ever go as planned? I have to admit, I didn’t expect my Cold Turkey blog to cause such a… famous people make splashes, so I think ripple will suffice. I’ve had some concerned phone calls, questioning emails and a couple of enquiring text messages. This blog is nothing at all against the people who contacted me in the least. This is more an observation if you will…

I believe, and this is only my opinion because I could not possibly know the true motivation of a person. However, I believe some people read that blog and look upon it as a reflection of my interaction with them or couldn’t separate our history to read it as it should be read. This is my decision which was made with me in mind first and foremost.

I am sure it was shocking to read such an open and vulnerable account of where I’m going in my life and what I am attempting to leave behind. For quite a long time, I’ve spent a more time building barriers than bridging them. I can comprehend the range of thoughts it might have stirred in people who know me intimately, makes complete sense on every level. For people to mistake this trip as one they were invited on? Well, that’s something else. This blog is only a window, a glimpse and nothing more. I decided to make MY experiences public so it will keep me all the more honest in the coming days. I can fool some of you, but not all of you.

Now, I’m not saying I’m walking this path alone. I sincerely hope my friends and family will accompany me on this journey. But, the direction, pace and incentive are purely mine and mine alone. I am inspired to be a better me. No, I am inspired to be a great me, my definition of great, not anyone else’s. You have no say so in defining my life as I should have no say so in defining yours. Me being too concerned about what others think in the first place contributed to me being blown off course.

If MY blog caused you some confusion, stress, anger or resentment than I suggest you consider your own internal pilgrimage. If reading MY blog caused you to nod your head in admiration then, stand on the sideline and cheer me on, walk with me when I seem to need a friend or hand me some Gatorade when you see I’m faltering. Better yet, provide a brotha with some free porn cause that’s as close as I get to sex for another 86 days!

Word of advice, look below the surface. If you truly know me, you know how strong-willed I am. I put my mind to something I always accomplish it, FUNomenal GmbH thank you very much. No sex is only a small part of the equation, there is something more grandiose I want to achieve.

While you’re trying to figure out what that is, I’ve got some growing to do.

Day 4, and the journey continues…

OBSERVATIONS OF CHEWY

By now I hope you’ve read my observations on a (small) dog. Those observations were extremely general. They could be about any (small) dog. Now it’s time to talk about MY (small) dog, CHEWY!

The person who gave Chewy to me specifically stated she felt Chewy and I would be a great match because we were so much alike. I took that as a compliment at first… Now!? Not so sure about that. If it’s true that a dog reflects their owners, then I’m just weird. What I’ve observed about Chewy is..

1.) I understand as a small dog you have to be more aware of things in a world where 99% of things are bigger than you. However, Chewy is afraid of the most random stuff! Squeaky toys, Chewy is afraid of squeaky toys. I can understand him not LIKING squeaky toys as the sound is hella annoying. But AFRAID of them? Don’t get it at all. Before Chewy came to live with me, I went out and bought all these doggy things for him, as a good dog owner should. One of the things I bought was a rubber chicken that squeaks when you press it. Maaaaan, I took that thing out and before I even squeezed it Chewy was looking at me like, “I know that’s not what I think it is!” The first squeeze made his ears stand straight up, he leaned away as far as he could from me and lifted his butt up in preparation. Preparation?? Yes, preparation for the second squeeze. When I pressed that damn chicken a second time Chewy was OUT! Ran his ass right under my sofa. Actually, I have these fake wood linoleum floors so Chewy couldn’t get traction at first. He looked like Scooby Doo with his legs moving real fast but not moving anywhere. It took me 15 minutes and 3 of his favorite snacks to coax him out from under my sofa, poor dog. After that I called my friend and she told me, “Oooh yeah, he’s afraid of squeaky toys.” You think??

The other thing Chewy is afraid of is plastic bags. Not just big plastic bags which I can see. I mean, it does make a lot of noise when I shake out a new bag to put in the trash can so him freaking out over that is understandable. What is NOT understandable is him being afraid of the little poop bags. Little poop bags Chewy? You are so NOT gangsta! When I’m trying to get up his smelly business, Chewy is pulling as hard as a can on the leash acting like he’s having a conniption fit to get away from the plastic bag. Really Chewy, relax, take a deep breath, plastic poop bags don’t bite.

This next fear of Chewy truly confuses me on every level. Chewy is downright terrified of me putting on his winter jacket. He’s not afraid of the jacket or sweater or whatever I put on him in itself, only when I go to put it on him. I can put the jacket or sweater next to him and he’s whatever about it. Pick it up and I move towards him and he’s trembling from fear. I could sorta kinda see if the jackets were ugly, but they aren’t! They are chic as HELL! One is this black hoody pullover with silver skull and crossbones all over it, another is this button up Army camouflage jacket and he even has this other little army camouflage shirt that says PUNK on the bag. That’s some gangsta ish man! Oh, oh, he even has this other jacket with a fur collar. Chewy is seriously flossin when he has that thing on! But he’s terrified of them! Do you think in a former life he was a mental patient and they remind him of the straitjackets they used to put him in?? Cause Chewy is crazy so anything is possible. I mean, when I put it on him, he starts running around in circles in my apartment and acting real weird. He’s so small he is shivering in 45 seconds if I don’t put him in something so I have to make him wear something. But as soon as we get outside, he’s all fine! He’s running around without a care in the world. Explain that one please!

The last thing Chewy is afraid of defies all explanations. If someone has a logical reason for Chewy’s last fear I’m all ears. My dog, Chewy, is afraid of riding in a car. Yes, you read it right! Chewy is afraid of riding in cars. Has anyone ever heard of a dog being afraid to ride in a car?? A dog being afraid to ride is like hearing about a black man who doesn’t like a big behind on a woman. If a person told you, you wouldn’t believe them! Chewy detests riding in cars like Republicans hate fair elections… I mean, can’t be because he hardly rides in a car can it? Maybe he was a cat in a former life or something? Madness I tell ya.

2.) Next thing I’ve observed about Chewy is.. and as a parent it really pains me to say this, but I know it’s true. Chewy is a straight nerd. He is the Steve Urkel of dogs. He is! None of the other dogs in the neighborhood really like Chewy. After comparing Chewy’s behavior to other dogs, I get it, I do get it. Chewy is too.. well… he’s too.. He’s just too much Chewy too soon! People LOVE how Chewy is all excited to meet someone new and all friendly licking them all over, which pisses me off but I’ll speak about that later. Dogs, they hate that shit. TRUST me. Chewy doesn’t just sniff a dogs ass, he literally licks it. As a “parent”, I’m always like, “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew Chewy! You are SO not licking me with that tongue after this!!” After about ooooh, 2 seconds, dogs get PISSED at Chewy and try to bite him. When I take Chewy to the dog park and I hear a dog growling and barking at another dog, I know Chewy is involved because he pissed off some other dog. A strange thing is, Chewy does not hump your leg, EVER. Doesn’t do it and seems to have no interest in sex, UNTIL when a female is around. Even if other male dogs are around who aren’t trying to mount the female dog, Chewy is. Even when the female dog has bitten Chewy repeatedly, he’s still trying. I’m all for persistence, but damn Chewy take a hint! She ain’t interested! I don’t know why, but it is so damn embarrassing to having your little ass dog chasing a female Cujo around a park trying to climb up her hind legs to have sex. I have to physically go and remove his lil horny ass from the other dog and leave the area. I mean, where does he get that from, this unnatural pursuit of sex that supersedes everything in his brain except copulate?? Where could he possibly have gotten that from? It’s like he’s seen it before and he’s trying to mimic the same actions or something..Madness I tell ya.

The other thing I think that makes Chewy so damn nerdy is his lack of doggy senses. I mean, he can smell great and see amazingly, but it’s his lack of that innate ability to get a feel for a situation that does Chewy in every single time. I will have Chewy off of the leash in the park and he’ll see another dog. His ears will go straight up, his body language switches to, “What’s this!?!?! Another dog’s ass to lick!?!? Yippee!!” He gets all excited.. I’m behind him thinking, “Chewy, that dog looks like it’s having a really bad day. Maybe you should let that one go.” Not Chewy, he literally BOUNDS over to this other dog that is walking like they just got fired from their job as a guard dog and found out their wife is sleeping with his best friend. If you’ve seen Chewy, then you know he really bounds! He looks like a fairy size gazelle or something when he runs. It’s almost heartbreaking to see him so shocked when the other dog snaps and chases him away. But he doesn’t learn! He keeps on doing the same thing with every dog! How can a dog so damn smart have no power of recall?? If I a human can tell a dog is not in a Chewy kinda mood, then Chewy should certainly be able to tell, but he can’t. Or, he doesn’t give a fuuuuuuuuck! “You gonna love me dammit!!” LOL!

3.) I believe Chewy has a bladder problem. How else can you explain a dog the size of a smurf needing to pee on every damn thing in sight? I know it’s not normal either! I had Chewy’s brother Brutus for a couple of days one time.. Lord let me tell you that is an observation in itself too! But having the two of them around, I saw that behavior Chewy engaged in, Brutus didn’t engage in. Then I started looking a little closer at other dogs peeing habits. I mean, out of 10 trees, the average dog will pee on about 4 trees. Chewy?? He will pee on all 10 trees, plus the garbage can, plus the old McDonald’s bag, plus the park bench and just for good measure; he’ll pee on another dog. THAT is Chewy. I shit you not, Chewy is into Golden Showers. I’ve seen him pee on other dogs before. I’m sure there is some psychological reason for it, but I haven’t quite found out what it is yet. Until then, I’m going to go with Chewy is a damn freak and I swear he’s NEVER ever everevereverever seen me doing no mess like that! Peeing on other dogs on purpose?? Chewy (shaking my damn head).

I’m thinking I’ll break these observations into two parts. Chewy is just so, Chewy so I gotta get this stuff out so the world can tell me if I’m the weird one for thinking Chewy is weird, or he really is from another planet.

COLD TURKEY

A woman I dated before revealed to me once how much she hated my blogs. She couldn’t comprehend my desire to reveal any part of myself to the outside world. I found her visceral reaction quite confusing seeing as the majority of my blogs up until that point were based on my observations of the many countries I’ve visited. I open with that memory because for some strange unexplainable reason, the journey I’m about to embark on and openly share with you as it unfolds gives me a small perverse sense of pleasure that she would loathe my new entries… in your eye you Polish witch!

Now, the details, the unveiling of me, the mystery explained… You know, a magician will always tell you people aren’t impressed with the actual trick itself, the public drives themselves mad attempting to explain the act. That’s what keeps the audiences returning. Explain the unknown and you lose the power to captivate. Luckily, I’m no magician and I’m more than willing these days to stop driving people mad.

I've never been faithful to a girlfriend or anyone I've seriously dated in my life, EVER. Trust me when I say there is no boasting whatsoever in that statement. It has caused me and a few women I hold in the highest esteem an immeasurable amount of pain and heartache. I've lost best friends, confidants and soul mates over my indiscretions. I can’t say I regret anything because my past actions have made me who I am today, however, what I feel when I look back on my transgressions comes pretty damn close. The explanation for why I was always unfaithful? That is for another blog when I’m feeling less sensitive to potential slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. What I want to express now is that I’ve changed. Ok, let me rephrase that, I now posses a desire to change so strongly it has superseded everything else in my life. For the first time in my adult life, I have consciously made a choice to be a better man free of self-doubt, insecurities and a squewed ego and be whole, selfless and true. I’ve made real progress since I’ve begun this journey. However, a dear, and sadistic, friend of mine brought to my attention that I still need to change the pattern. I have to break the cycle I always allow myself to be drawn into. I use sex and the pursuit of sex as a salve for bruised heart and a temporary boost for a deflated ego. She argued if I honestly am serious about profound change and not superficial, my entire program needs to be rebooted and rewritten. Her suggestion? No sex for 90 days. What does a man who has started this painful journey of true self discovery say to this radical recommendation? “Me?! With no sex for 90 days!?! Surely you jest you deranged woman!” Me not having sex is like, well it’s like me not being Carl! But when you get right to the heart of the matter, isn’t that part of my problem? Being Carl, had entailed using sex in unhealthy ways to distract me from real issues I needed to confront. Wow. Never broke it down like that before. Next I did what any person who has had a moment of true enlightenment does, I attempted to negotiate! “What if I only put the tip in?? I mean, the tip being in for like 3 seconds doesn’t count right?? No blowjobs?? What about bad blowjobs?? No oral sex at all??? I can’t even GIVE oral sex?? Kissing?? Am I allowed to kiss?? For the LOVE of GOD kissing has GOT to be allowed!!” The last question prompted my friend to quip, “Well, knowing you like I do… very limited kissing should be allowed.” Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!!! The magnitude of this endeavor is not lost even on my feeble brain. No activities or behavior I engaged in previously to prevent real personal growth are permitted. Let me tell you I REALLY enjoyed those activities.. those wonderful, exquisite, delightful activities (sigh). So there it is. I, Carl White, beginning from January 28^th, 2011 have started a period of celibacy to last a continuous period of 90 days. I know this will be doubly hard as I’m now the healthiest emotionally I’ve been in years. I know the positive energy I’m emitting will surely attract cool, intelligent, funny and carefree women who love to have sex... Wait!! We didn’t talk about masturbation! Criiiiiiiiiiiiiistinaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!

So, near the end of day one I receive this sms from my dominatrix in training friend, “Many persons have the wrong idea of what constitutes true happiness. It is not attained through self-gratification but through fidelity to a worthy purpose.” Very poignant quote that fits my situation to a “T”, but as great as this quote is, I can’t fuck it. So the journey begins… end of Day 1.

OBSERVATIONS ON HAVING A (SMALL) DOG

If you don’t know me, then me having a dog isn’t really so impressive. I mean, millions upon millions of people have dogs all over the world! It’s not like I’m the Dalai Lama and took some vow to never own a dog and I’m now breaking that vow making it worldwide news. It’s not even like my dog is really all that special. He wasn’t given to me by aliens; he doesn’t even do any amazing tricks like that dog that dances salsa I’ve seen on youtube. What’s pretty mind-boggling when you get down to the core is that for the last 10 years of my life, I have been constantly traversing the globe. I mean country hopping in every sense of the word. Now? I have a little bundle of responsibility! I have to plan my days and evenings! I have to watch where I step in my own apartment! Madness I tell you. So, in having this fluffy invader around me 24/7 I’ve noticed a few things…

1.) I have observed how gullible I am. I mean I’m gullible to the Nth degree. Let me give you the short version of how I ended up with my dog, AKA Chewy, AKA Pissy & Licky, AKA Pee on every damn object he passes. This friend of mine has a dog. Her dog escaped for some hours and a few months later everyone realized, “We know what SHE was doing when she ran off!” This said friend waited until her dog had the puppies to implement her strategy! First off, I was thinking of getting a dog, however, I was certain I didn’t want a small dog. My friend used the argument, “Well, we don’t really know who the father is so there is the POSSIBILITY the puppies will be much bigger than my dog is.” Mind you, her dog is a Havana Silk Terrier. Ever heard of those? Me either! But they are small! Not purse size, but not much bigger either! THEN she starts to post photos of the puppy she wants me to have on my facebook page. But she was SLICK with it! She would post photos where the dog wasn’t next to anything that would give me some comparison of his size. He was always next to the other puppies or on his own. Never next to a table, or a tree, or a damn cell phone! Just him.. with his cute self! I’m not made of stone! Only a monster could resist cute puppy photos posted on their facebook page! I did hold out as long as I could by saying I needed to meet him first before I made a decision. My friend agreed. She comes over with this cute little carry bag. Me being a gentleman I take the bag from her, it’s not a big bag, but it’s kinda heavy! I’m thinking, if he’s this heavy, he can’t be sooo small and will surely grow! NOT! The bag was heavy because every damn puppy was in that freakin bag! She put the bag down; opened it up and 4 puppies ran in every direction in my apartment. Hairy lightning bolts running around to mess up stuff. But the 5^th, he left the bag and came directly to me, raised his little furry head, stood up on his hind legs (reaching up to my ankle) and literally begged for me to pick him up. DAMMITT! I know they planned that shit! I know they had to have planned it! I melted! So NOT gangsta I know. But from that moment on, I had a dog.

2.) My second observation? I am sooooooooo not ready to be a parent! I don’t know how parents do it! I just had ONE puppy and it completely turned my life upside down. It started taking me TWICE as long to be HALF as productive! And I can leave my dog home alone for a little while. If that were a baby they’d throw me in jail. Thank God for small favors. In saying that though, there are some things that dog owners have to deal with that parents NEVER would imagine having to consider. Number 1 on the list of things parents never have to worry about.. A baby can’t hide his piss and shit all over the house and will never pee on important papers or computer bags. Seriously! My dog NOW is trained to use a cat litter box which is a beautiful thing when I can’t get back in time to walk him. BEFORE he got used to it? I want a scientist to find out how to dogs determine where they are going to take a shit. My hypothesis? They take shits in the exact places you will not see it and step in it. That’s my theory. I am convinced he would do complicated geometry calculations to figure out the exact placement of the poop for maximum effect. Or they poop in the most random ass places so you don’t know they’ve actually shit, but you can smell it. Then you are playing scavenger hunt in your own apartment with a pile of kaka as the prize. I can’t tell you the number of times I was on my hands and knees in my apartment crawling around mumbling to myself, “I know I smell shit. I know that can’t be me either cause I changed my draws today.” Then when you find it, it’s an AHA and EWW moment all rolled into one. And what the HELL is the chemical make-up of doggy pee?? My dog pissed on my computer bag ONCE! It still smells like pee. I’ve washed it 3 times, left it outside during an entire winter to air out, sprayed it with disinfectant, nothing works. I still smell that damn pee. And I’m not imagining it! Chanced it once and used the bag and people were just sniffing on the subway talking about, “I smell pee. You smell that? I know I smell pee. Somebody peed on themselves.” Waste of a perfectly good computer bag in my opinion. Guess he doesn’t like technology. Oh, I can’t EVEN forget that my dog refused to use the cat toilet at first so I read some geniuses advice online that you shouldn’t take them outside EVER until they pee where you want them to. Someone track him down using his IP address and shoot him in the left buttocks please! I didn’t take the poor dog outside for like 2 ½ days! I was thinking of calling Guinness Book of World Records to ask about the longest a dog has gone without taking a piss! Then I thought, waaaaaaaaaaaaait a minute. So I started the scavenger hunt again! Something told me to move my sofa. Sure enough! My little midget of a dog was going UNDER the sofa to take his pisses! I KNEW I had smelled piss! There was a freakin Lake Geneva of urine under my sofa! You little furry bastard! And that’s another thing! You can’t really yell at a dog. There is absolutely no point at all. A little kid will at least understand something you are saying to them. You know what a dog hears when you scold them? “Blah blah blah blah! Blah blah blah CHEWY! Blah blah blah blaaaahblah Chewy blah!” That’s it! That’s all they understand! Their name and nothing else! And the poor animal is just confused as all out doors. The last thing a parent never has to worry about? The walks! Every owner knows what I’m talking about. Forget the mail man, it’s dog owners who are dependable! Rain, hail, sleet or snow you see our dumb butts outside trying to coax a four legged animal to do his business faster so we can go inside where it’s warm. NO parent EVER has to wake up at odd hours AND get dressed to go outside. The ONE time a dog owner decides to be lazy and not take his dog outside, poo-poo scavenger hunt time!

3.) I know there are many people who are convinced they are enlightened souls. You are all walking around touting how open-minded you are, how much you accept people from all races, religions and creeds. Well that’s all goes OUT the window when you see a man walk by with a small dog. I can NOT tell you how ignorant people can be! Actually, I can and of course I am going to tell you. If I had a nickel for every person who’s said to me, “You need a bigger dog; he’s too small for you.” I’d have enough money for a Starbucks Grande low fat milk mocha chai latte AND a slice of New York cheese cake. If you’ve been to Starbucks, you know how expensive they are so that is a decent sum of money. At first, I laughed off those comments. But after months of, “He’s sooo obviously gay.” and “That’s your girlfriend’s dog right?” I started to get salty with people! This homeless lady would say, “You need another dog, he’s too small for you.” EVERY single time I saw her. I mean, is there anything else you can say?? Maybe her brain was so fried she was always forgetting the black man with a small dog and it was always a new experience for her when she saw me. Finally one day I couldn’t take it anymore and snapped back, “You need another job, because obviously the begging ain’t working out for you.” There is this park near my apartment I take my dog to when the weather is nice. It’s a huge park and he can run til his heart is content, or he runs out of energy, whichever comes first. This random woman saw me from waaaaaaaaay across the park. I mean, this ain’t no normal park people! This park is so big it’s like a nature preserve, the Serengeti or something. She half walked-half jogged her butt aaaaaaaaall the way where I was at with Chewy to say to me, “I know that ain’t yo dog! It must be your girlfriend dog right?” I calmly replied that indeed it was my dog. She then proceeded to say, “Boy! You know you need a bigger dog!” Not sure why it came into my head, but so glad it did, I stated in my best deadpan voice, “Well, I thought it would be interesting to have a dog that was the same size as my dick. Would save me and women I meet a lot of time wondering” Then I raised one eyebrow in a “Now ya know!” salute and continued on my walk with Chewy. Still mental to me though how we as people have these preconceived notions about something as simple as dog size equating masculinity and we hold on to them for dear life. Get with it people, it ain’t that serious!

4.) You know, it’s not all bad having a dog, there are quite a few positives. They say people who own a pet live longer than people who don’t, which, I don’t get seeing all the walks I’ve taken in sub zero temperatures and pouring down rain, but hey. But one thing having a dog has improved is my knowledge of the neighborhood. People with dogs are the ones to ask about new restaurants, bars, shops and anything new going up in your hood. I’ve lived in my apartment for ooooh, at least 3 years. Can’t tell you the number of times I walked past things with my dog saying, “When did they put this here?” or “We have THIS in the neighborhood!?” or even, “This has GOT to be new!”. Walking a dog puts you out there in the neighborhood! I now have a new favorite café, I have like 3 bars now I can check out and a slew of new eateries to sample. All thanks to my dog! Oh, and it doesn’t hurt to be treated like a returning conquering hero every time I walk in the door either ;-)

I SAUNA THINK THIS IS WEIRD...

With all of my travels, I have concluded that weird is all a matter of perspective. Depending on the perspective, perfectly normal every day activities can seem so out of the ordinary, they shock you into silence. While the most random and unsettling events can seem entirely mundane. Now, the prism we all look through to judge what is abnormal and normal is culture. In my culture, I expect the TV and radio to be on with no one watching or listening and full-blown conversations carried out. In my culture, it will raise no eyebrows in curiosity if one wears socks with sandals. ;-) Really all just depends on where you were born and what you were taught to be accustomed to in your life. In saying that, it’s just sooo freakin weird how Germans won’t cross the street on pedestrian red lights when NO cars are in sight, but will go into co-ed saunas butt ass naked with perfect strangers with no problem at all.

Yes, I know I have mentioned this strange practice previously.. However, this is the first time I decided to observe this odd occurrence up close and personal! Yes, on Saturday, November 1, 2008, I Carl went into a sauna. And let me tell you, I sauna think it was WEIRD.

I don’t usually go to the gym on Saturdays unless I miss a training day during the week. But, for personal reasons I needed to burn off some steam and figured the gym was a good place. Now, I didn’t intend to try out the sauna before I arrived at the gym, or even while I worked out. The idea just popped into my head while getting ready to shower and figured, why not. If I were ever going to go into the sauna, Saturday afternoon at my gym would be the perfect time. There is hardly anyone there at all. Hence, even less people would be in the sauna!

Ok, so I have tried a sauna before so I kinda sorta had an idea of what to expect. In New Zealand the gym I used had a sauna, but it was right next to the pool so people had on swim suits!! A naked co-ed sauna?? It was a first. The set-up of my gym is that you go into a door connected to the men’s changing room to get to the sauna area. There is hallway that contains individual rooms for the tanning beds. I opened up that door and saw two women. They were in towels, but it still scared the shit out of me! It kinda hit me that I was going to be around naked women I didn’t know and was expected not to stare or touch! I chickened out! I ran back into the men’s changing room. I didn’t expect to see women so soon, even if they were covered! I needed time to get my courage back up. I took a deep breath after a few minutes, and went through the door again. This time, no one was in the hallway. I took a few tentative steps down the hallway and saw the door marked, SAUNA. That was my destination. So I held my breath and walked to the door and walked in. Don’t ask why I held my breath. It just seemed the right thing to do. Maybe subconsciously I thought co-ed saunas stank and I was preparing myself. With all of that boodiussy around you never know. Booty + Dick + Pussy = Boodiussy

I walked in and the first thing I saw. I mean FIRST thing were those two women sitting, covered, in the “prep” area and this old man coming out of one of the sauna rooms.. naked. He was so old that his ball sack had lost all of its elasticity. I kid you not that they were hanging halfway down his thighs. And these two women were just sitting there! I almost gagged and they just kept on chatting away like they didn’t have a man who looked like a character from an Austin Powers film directly in front of them! I had to regroup so I sat in the “prep” area also. The “prep” area is some benches you can sit on while you take a break from the saunas. I also needed to think about what I was going to do! I didn’t know the protocols, or the procedures! I finally said fuck it and went into one of the saunas. It was a dry sauna and thank God, there was no one inside. I sat myself down and immediately, I mean IMMEDIATELY I started to sweat. It’s fuckin hot in those things! Seriously people, if you have never been in a sauna it’s not a heat you get used to. It’s instantaneously cook a muthafugga heat once you sit down. I had the EXACT same thought in that sauna as I had when I sat in my first one in New Zealand… “Carl, what exactly is yo black ass doing in here?!?!?” and my second thought was exactly the same as in New Zealand as well, “Why the fuck do white people do this???” Then they had this green mood light thing with crickets and birds playing in the background. Like that shit was going to take my mind off of this damn heat! What they needed was piped in screams of agony and anguish, evil laughter and a demonic voice repeating over and over, “You’re in heeeeell ha ha ha haaaa!!” Sweat just poured off my body. I looked like Kunta from Roots when he ran away the first time. I was just blinded by sweat. I wiped the sweat out of my eyes and saw one of those old-fashioned buckets next to me with a dipper. You know the thing you dip into the water to drink. I thought that was a GREAT idea! All that sweat makes a person get dehydrated real quick. So, my dumb ass picked up the dipper and scooped me up some water. People, it wasn’t water to drink! It had chemical strength mint shit in it. Almost poisoned myself to death! So I’m hotter than bitch, got sweat in my eye and poisoned. GREAT! I then figured, it must be to pour over your body to get some of the sweat off. Duh! I know that’s what the shower is for but when you are in heat that extreme it makes you retarded. I decided to pour the water over myself to cool down. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking! How could I cool down with water that was IN the sauna with me?? Only thing I managed to do was have myself smelling like a damn Mint Julep. I said fuuuuuuuck this and went to take a shower. Now, I was told that the best thing to do is to take a cold shower upon leaving the sauna because it’s great for your skin. I did that and completely forgot about shrinkage. Now, shrinkage for all you Europeans is that man’s penis becomes a turtle when it’s exposed to the cold. It literally tries to stick it’s head into the shell. SHIT! So I’m naked in the shower, which is not a private shower by the way. There is no door and two showers in the room so man or woman could come in at any time. I also hear the two women out there still! Shit shit shit! Maybe it’s the Virgo in me, but I was NOT going to let two women I did not know see me when I was not at my best. I decided to stay in the shower hoping they would leave soon. But, I was aware if I turned the water off and staid in the shower, people might get the wrong idea! My black ass almost caught hyperthermia! There was ONLY cold water so I couldn’t even make the water warmer while waiting for those heffas to leave. I’m shivering in the shower stall, with my lips turning blue waiting them out. They FINALLY left so I could come out.

I decided to relax a bit in the “prep” area for a bit to recover. This guy who looked to be about my age came in and went into the shower area. I mean, I’m comfortable enough with my sexuality to say he was a nice looking guy, well built. But he was prancing around the sauna area COMPLETELY naked after he took his shower! I mean, if he was John Holmes or something fine. But he shoulda kept himself covered up if you know what I mean. The thing is, this young couple came in after that and this guy is still walking around naked and this girl is in there! What’s the point of having single-sex changing rooms if you are going to see the people naked in the sauna?? I don’t want every guy in the gym knowing what my lady looks like butt naked! There’s no more mystery after that! And you KNOW people talk! “Man, it’s 5pm on Wednesday, this is when Sara usually goes into the Sauna let’s go!” or “Giiirl, Simba goes into the sauna about this time, we need to go see his fine ass, let’s go!” Makes no damn sense to me! Anyway, the couple went through this OTHER door. I wanted to go back into the sauna again but thought I’d check out what behind that door later. So I went into the sauna again, alone. Immediately I’m drenched in sweat again. However, this time I tried to use the heat! I tried to stretch a little and clear my mind and meditate… That shit did not work one bit! My legs were involuntarily twitching and I was antsy. I couldn’t sit still! It was like my limbs realized we weren’t being made to stay in that damn heat and wanted to get the fuck out. I really really tried to meditate. It didn’t work! They say that sweating like that gets rid of impurities in your skin. Well sweating like that also makes your brain get rid of impurities. I was almost crying in that bitch thinking about the time I didn’t share cookies with my sister. Or the time I tricked my little brother into thinking lemon dish washing soap was yellow kool-aid. All this old shit came rushing into my thoughts and made me all emotional! Dammitt!! I woulda burst out crying if another person didn’t come into the sauna at that moment, was this fat Turkish guy. He earned points from me cause he kept his towel wrapped around him like I did. However, the two German guys that came in after him did not. Those bastards put their towels down and laid down naked on top of them. I have issues of trust, and having a naked man behind me in a sauna is not going to improve that at all. So I got up and left. Took another freezing cold shower and went to check out this other room that couple went into. I walked in and there were these nice long chairs to lie down on and all these rooms! I was kinda wanted to open up one of the rooms to see what was inside. But that couple? They were sitting naked on one of the chairs.. together in a way that I could not tell if they were having sex or not. I mean, there was a towel covering their private parts. However…I felt uncomfortable. I looked at the clock and did the whole, “Oh! Is that the time? Gotta go!” I broke out and left them to it.

So, I’m back in the safety of the men’s changing room and assume I don’t have to worry about naked women or couples maybe having sex on the benches. Then, the cleaning lady walks in. Now, normally at my gym, the cleaning ladies they use are all ladies AT LEAT in their early 50’s who look like they’ve had a few kids. In other words, it’s whatever when you see them in the men’s changing rooms cleaning. I still don’t get undressed around them, but I don’t even think of it to walk around in my underwear. THIS day? There was this 20 year old in skin tight jeans, curves to fill them out with full pouty lips. She was fwine! What the fuck are they doing?? Why would they send a girl that looks like that into the men’s changing room? I had to take another cold shower! Fuckers! They did that shit on purpose!

After this experience, I a very good friend of mine, German called me and I told her of my experience and asked her why don’t they just have co-ed changing rooms. She said that.. well, she could see my point on why have single sex if you see the people naked in the sauna. However, in the sauna, you don’t bend over like you do in the changing room to put on clothes. Hhhmm… so bending over is the line that Germans don’t cross? I can see you naked, but if I see you naked while bending over that’s crossing a line! Man, that’s just weird…