Gettin' Ready to Party

What a day... I wake up, it's not even New Years Day yet, and there's confetti EVERYWHERE. Ryan keeps pointing out that it's snow and not fun bits of festive confetti and I'm all, "Thanks captain buzzkill. It may be snow, but I like to party so- in my mind, it's confetti." (he relented).

After a walk, Ry jumped back on his computer to work, write, or research who the next Jets coach might/might not be. BUT, I caught a taste for the writing bug yesterday so I kicked him outta his workspace and decided to work on the Great American Canine Novel.

I started working on an outline, building scenarios, protagonist motivations, etc. and feel like I'm making some real headway.

But, I'm wiped and it's time to rest-up for the big party... so, I leave you all to enjoy the new year.





Harry W. Posner- novelist

Another dog day in the hood...

All work and no play makes Ryan a boring host... Here I am, all "woof, woof," and "let's play" and "stop typing on the friggin computer, woof" and he's still typing away on some kind of script (way to go Hemingway).

Anyway, after watching him type dribble for a couple of hours, I decided to step in and help the poor bastard out (I mean, really- he's writing scripts for a tv show, way to go pal). I jumped up on my seat which is neatly situated next to him in an attempt to let him know- "hey, I'm still here pal."

I typed furiously, hard at work banging out the prose, and even impressing myself w/the use of metaphors and eventually worked in an allegory... I know most people think Dog's don't sweat but I was working- full-throttle. So much so...



Ry' must have appreciated the gesture... said he'd give me a credit when the special airs (I'm not holding my breath- going to contact my agent and the union to make sure I get my due). He also brought me home a treat from the doggie store so... All in, I guess he's a'ight (new brooklyn slang I've picked up... )

DAY 1

Totally slept in today... I'm on vacation for Christ's sake (yup, they're def' goyim). Woke up, had breakfast catered and- remarkably, it tasted just like home albeit it... I dunno, for lack of a better word, it tasted... a little, "brooklyn'y."

After a stroll and a quick game of 'try and pull the toy outta my mouth' (Ryan won, Tra' lost), I sacked out for a bit. Ry totally worked all day- babbling about Good Housekeeping this, Good Housekeeping that... whatever, I'm a dog and a guest, you clean-up after me- I'm not doing it.

I finally managed to get the bastard to stop working (took all of 5 seconds) and we went out. I'm diggin this whole Brownstone thing, it's quaint, historic, and there's tons of trees to sniff around. I had my pick sniffing from one trunk to another- found the perfect poop spot.

Ry tried to walk me all over the place and I was all, "WTF,- I'm a little a dog. Enough w/all the walky walk." So- I grabbed his car and went for a ride... Did him a solid by finding a spot for him as tomorrow is some kind of Alternate Side Parking thing... at least that's what the sign says (which I promptly peed on).

Anyway, we're gonna watch some Iron Man on Blu Ray so Ry can avoid his responsibilities.

Peas Out!

Arrival

I've just arrived at 825 Union St. here in the 'Slope' (stupid local slang). After checkin' my luggage at #3, my concierges (Ry' and Tra') went for a stroll down Union St. So far, standard city fare- picked a favorite hydrant- peed on it. Picked a favorite poll- peed on it. Crossed the street, peed on a gate, then climbed the 2 flights back to my suite.

Could be me- but they've got a big tree w/a bunch of lights on it... Jury is still out but they may be goyim.