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What’s Up With Me

I’ve done the most irresponsible thing in my life. I quit my big muckety muck job after 30 years in corporate America and followed my wife overseas. After a couple years in London, we’re now in Australia. My new job is taking care of her and our dog while I try to write. Mostly dark humor and satire. I started off calling it comedy, but this isn’t knee-slapping stuff.

All my short stories, observations, rants, cartoons and one-liners that have filled up journals & scraps of paper need a home. Wet Kibble will be their place to grow up and become something. And, man do they ever have a lot of growing up to do. As far as the life cycle of writing projects go, they’re puerile and malformed. They’re hungry babies with full diapers whose drunk mother is breeding raccoons in the house without cages. In other words, their mortality rate will be off the charts. Wet Kibble will be where I play with these projects, and decide whether they live or die.

This is going to be a completely undisciplined effort. I truly have no idea what I’m doing. I have no track record as a professional writer. Here’s what I do know… I like to come up with stuff that makes me laugh and share it with others. If they laugh as hard as I do, that fills me up. To the brim. It’s my kibble. The more the better.

Bowl of Wet KibbleSo…why “Wet Kibble?” It’s selfish on my part. The phrase “Wet Kibble” is hilarious to me, like a slapstick pie in somebody’s face. It just sounds funny.

But, I also find wet kibble offensive. Disgusting. Ruined. If it spills on my hands, I have a sudden urge to shave my body hairless and brush my teeth with steel wool. It’s kibble gone completely wrong.

But wet kibble also reminds me of bad decisions made with the best of intentions. I heard many kibble debates as a constantly giggling kid. My dog-loving family had strong opinions over wet vs. dry kibble. What was best for Taffy? What would he enjoy most? We thought Taffy needed our help figuring this out because he would eat it either way. But, I assumed the dog knew better, and the adults were being total morons. My parents decided on wet, and it was their house.

Taffy had to be pissed when we drowned his kibble. Wet kibble is the last thing I would want. There’s water right next to it, thank you very much. So, I hear “wet kibble” and immediately laugh at something that tickles me, yet is also ruined with the assumption that it’s been improved.

As I pull together my “best” stuff here on the blog, I will ruin it in the process. I will drown it with good intentions, and hate it for a while. I will be forced to make it edible again. That’s the process here. It starts with Wet Kibble. Hopefully it becomes something that other people will enjoy. And, that would fill me up. To the brim.

We shall see where this goes. Maybe a book one day. That would be wonderful. I’m working on one now. Perhaps some stand-up routines come out of all this. Not sure. For now, I’m just going to feed heavily on tasteless Wet Kibble, try to make it better and see where it takes me. Thanks for having a look around the site. Please let me know what you think. I hope you enjoy Wet Kibble more than you expected.

The damn dog…

Halfway through writing this, our dog Cali walked up to me. Maybe she just wanted to say hello. Tilting her head toward me opened her up like a champagne bottle. She threw up violently with a loud “hoork!” The weight of her sick landed on the rug with a thud-splat. The vomit’s force pushed her backwards, leaving a trail of puke along the fringe of the rug. Why is it always on the fringe? So much harder to clean. The shame-ridden dog retreated to the kitchen and threw up there. Then the front hall. That’s it. She’s all done now. But, she left a lot of partially digested dog food and yellow bile for me to clean up. Just thought I’d share. It seemed meaningful.

When I first sit down to describe how I will get into Wet Kibble, she made sure I did exactly that. Up to my elbows in the real deal.

You wanted to know what’s up with me. That’s what’s up with me. On my hands and knees cleaning up this awful mess. Taking care of the Wet Kibble, and trying to make everything better. It’s now or never.