shed

Shed your skiiiiiiiiin!great Title Fight record. I own it on vinyl, which I purchased from Scotti’s Record Shop in Summit, NJ what seems like another lifetime ago, but was probably only about six years ago. I haven’t been back since, mainly because I’m never in Summit and typically choose to spend my disposable income on other things other than records nowadays (which unfortunately, I never quite make the time to listen to as often as I’d like). I love records though. I love the way they sound, I love the mechanical science of it. It’s just so titillating and fascinating to me. The scratchy sound of the record before the music starts. I love all genres. The last record I listened to was Temples’ Sun Structures. I love the smell of old records. Worn and musty. The ones that have seen a lot of history, have played the soundtrack to it. The record rotation, spinning 33 and 1/3 times per minute.

My dog sheds. My lil’ Mario – My chocolate-dipped peanut / marshmallow ball whom I love so much. We recently got this combing glove that’s supposed to remove a lot of loose hair so it doesn’t get on our clothes and furniture. He’s do for another brushing soon. He is so soft, especially his ears. I pet and scratch them all the time for him. He’s very cuddly. I watch him outside and am constantly fascinated by his movements; The way his little paws gently touch the Earth and the grass. He’s constantly sniffing, skipping, jumping, running. He’s fast as lightning. A little jack rabbit scampering. Playing fetch with him and he becomes an excitable blur. He wants to be friends with the dogs next door. He’s constantly whining, vying for their attention when he smells them or hears them. Perks up his little head, his little ears and runs over, damning the fence that separates them. At doggie daycare, he tended to gravitate toward larger female dogs. That’s what he likes! His little eyes are like brown, hopeful orbs wanting love, attention, and food. He lays on my lap like a welcome heating blanket and he’ll stay like that for hours. He craves connection. We crated in him in the beginning to get him house-trained and adjusted to our home life, but once he got used to it, he wasn’t having it! Crying and barking in the night.

Author: Roe

29. she/her. Songwriter & Trek Punk Soul™.

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