So I hear someone knock "shave and a haircut" on my garage door, and I think "cool, Marty's here!" You can imagine how surprised I was when some random stranger was in my freaking garage trying to sell me, of all things, steaks.
Ok, let's work this out
1. You enter my garage
2. You use a "friendly" knock
3. You try to sell me crap
4. You try to sell me meat, for the love of Gandhi
I have 2, not 1, 2 statues of Buddha in my front yard, you enter my garage, use the friendly knock, and try to sell me STEAKS, up to speed friends? (yes, Gandhi=Hindu, I spout off about Buddha, but hey, veggie all the way, that's my point steak eaters. I might as well say Einstein, he was veg too)
Here's what happened...
I open the door, say "two bits!" note that it's not Marty, and release the hound.
Now Berger may not be the smartest, or the quickest lab a person is ever going to meet, but he sure as heck may be the biggest. The Ogre raised that dog on fire whiskey, iams and love. The dog's an Ogre in his own right.
Now, when the random steak guy asked what kind of dog Berger happens to be, I said "mean."
Somehow during this exchange the steak guy explained that he in fact was not a random steak guy but a steak guy from the Grand Rapids area here to peddle his goods to a few lucky people. Whatever. If I want steak, I'll go buy some off Carina, who just bought a bison, not some fly by night "shrimp truck" meat seller.
So there, the nice is gone, the New Year's Resolution made it until June 13th, and now, the Bitch is back. I think I'll go on a bender to celebrate!
(dear child protective services, this is a joke, I only drink resposibly, hello, I went to beer school.)