The Daily Baxter
I'm a Tibetan Terrier Puppy!
dailybaxter (at) gmail (dot) com
Amanda! I got this for you. Here, take it. It’ll make you feel better.
Wait, no.
Don’t.
It’s mine.
Get your own butterfly.
If I were to pitch a reality show, this would be included in my press kit.
First there’s Mr. S, taking up the prime lounging space, acting smug and oblivious to anything going on around him.
Then there’s Furgie. She’s the Luna Lovegood of the group—she’s the supporting character that floats in and out of the frame as often as she floats in and out of conciousness of the world around her. See her staring at…nothing? Pretty typical.
And then there’s me. Yes I’m outside while they’re inside, but that’s not important. Take note of how I glow like a fluffy little angel. Those laser cats might have prime real estate, but the spotlight is always on me—my star shines bright despite all their sneaky efforts.
We all know who the favorite in this cast of characters will be :)
Cookies for me, Cookies for you
Tumblr EatUp goodies arrived! Amanda was all “oooh look how cute the packaging is and what a nice note!”
Ummmmwhocares! COOKIES! I SMELL COOKIES!
And then Amanda was like “what cute little shapes! and these oatmeal cookies are chock full of goodness!”
And I was like SERIOUSLY!! COOKIES!!
NEED!
Thank goodness someone finally decided to entertain me this weekend.
I chartered a couple kayak rides with Amanda and then Matthew, and I went on a fine ride down the river on the big boat with Brooke and Josh.
Water activity really works up the appetite, so I really can’t understand why everyone was so surprised when I snagged myself a bit of CJ’s potato salad. I wasn’t going to eat it all—everyone knows that you need some protein and roughage to make a nice square meal—I just wanted a little carb load to keep my energy up.
There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?
Wanna know what’s more fun than “relaxing” on the lake?
Boating, walking, kayaking, running, eating sticks, chasing bunnies, stalking water foul, rolling in smelly stuff…
The list goes on and on. Or for you folks that like to be concise, the answer is: anything.
Relaxing is boooooring.
I ain’t got no DK
No DK, cares for me
Iiiiiiiiiii’m so sad and lonely.
How long am I going to have to wail out David Lee Roth songs?
I need a DK.
Bad.
You all know how important DK is to me, right?
And you saw what happened to him last week, right?
Well apparently Amanda & Ryan just don’t get it. I need a new DK. Without stuffing, they’re only good for the archives.
I left this display on the floor last night and they were both all shocked and “gosh! I didn’t even know that devil DK was still around!”
Of course he was fools. Did you think I’d just let him be thrown away like an old cat turd? Sheesh.
Bring on a new DK so we can let these guys RIP.
Baxter B: Bruster’s Brouhaha
Earlier this week Amanda got a text alert that Bruster’s had just made Ryan’s favorite ice cream flavor, and you all know the Foz is in town, so I pretty much *had* to go.
Some reports indicate that I scarfed my ice cream like a maniac. Those reports are wrong. I was given an empty dish. I’m certain of it. I’d remember eating a whole sundae, right??
Just to be sure that they actually were handing out ice cream, I had to do some sleuthing. I didn’t want to alert him unnecessarily, hence my sneaky position.
Well, my stealthy posture didn’t really offer much insight. I had to go in for a birds eye view. There’s ice cream in there! And a dog biscuit!
Well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle! Why do you think I was gypped?!
We should probably go back again tonight and try again.
I really hope Foz is taking notes. I’ve got lots of lessons.
For those of us with long locks, a dip in the river can leave you looking like a drowned rat. There’s nothing cute about rats. Ever.
And given that hair dryers and towels and squeegees and fancy pants stuff like that aren’t stocked at the park, I’ve got to take a different route.
A little shimmy and a shake are all it takes to avoid a soggy ‘fro.
You’ll be left with beachy perfection.
Ladies love it, trust me.
