Miles vs. Crackers Part II, or: Turn up the Volume

Here’s a glimpse of what my weekend afternoons usually consist of:

Crackers: Hey, Zach and Nate are trying to watch football. Let’s tangle, mmmkay?

Miles: Well, mmmkay!

Miles is the Jacked Russell, and Crackers is the Rat Terrier mix.

Today, while my wife was out delivering for 919 Dine (shameless plug, don’t care), Miles and Crackers were just chilling on the couch while I watched The Patriot.

Like so:

However, as is the case when I get home from work during the week, when my wife got home tonight it turned into something like this:

Side note: how about that sweet bedsheet?

It can be a bit taxing whenever we’re trying to watch Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime it literally ANYTHING ON TV, but that’s what the volume button is for.

The only thing that worries me is when Crackers pulls his signature move, which is a series of quick gnaws on Miles’s cheek.

Still, I wouldn’t trade these guys for all the uninterrupted movies in the world.

Although I wouldn’t mind a couple of quiet hours so I can finish The Patriot.

GUN SHOW BYAAAH!

It’s a good day.

First of all, it’s Saturday.

Secondly, Jeremiah Johnson is on Amazon Prime.

Thirdly, it’s a Saturday that I’m not scheduled to work.

Fourthly (is that a word? Be a lot cooler if it was), NC State gets to play Louisville today (bye bye, Bobby Petrino!).

Fifthly, (another possible word), my brother and I surrounded ourselves with all sorts of badass firearms at the Dixie Gun and Knife Show earlier.

There was also:

-Flags

-Shirts

-Bumper stickers

-Trump merchandise (seriously, are you surprised?)

Nothing says MURICA quite like an auditorium full of people buying and selling guns.

Lots and lots and lots of guns.

My wife and I already own three firearms, though, and with Christmas on the horizon, it was one of those look-don’t-buy shows for me.

Which sucks, because I was just itching to take advantage of that gun-show loophole.

Instead, I found a pretty sweet metal Coca-Cola sign for three bucks:

Plus my brother bought me a pretty sweet NC flag for ten bucks:

This flag is particularly interesting to me, because it was one of the North Carolina flags that was flown during the Civil War.

No, I’m not racist, but I do think it’s a cool flag. It’s like a more badass Texas flag (sorry, Lone-Star State-ers, but NC>TX).

The only thing that was disappointing about the gun show was that we weren’t allowed to take photographs (of ANY kind!).

I guess I’ll get over it, though.

Now, if NC State would get their heads out of their asses today against Louisville, that’d be great.

Y’all have a good weekend!

Mole Check

Yesterday I had to go to the Dermatologist to get my annual mole exam, just to make sure I didn’t have skin cancer.

Good news: I don’t.

Bad news: I now owe Blue Ridge Dermatology 98 bucks. GoFundMe time!

It would certainly be nice to not have to pay for something like that, but I’ll pay once a year to make sure I don’t get ambushed by Melanoma (it killed my uncle 30 years ago, so I don’t like to take my chances).

On the other hand, my wife’s Dad suffered from Throat cancer several years ago (thankfully, he survived), yet I still dip tobacco, so maybe I just like to take DIFFERENT chances?

Anyway, I still get some anxiety whenever I have my moles checked, courtesy of my first experience with the Dermatologist back in 2008.

His name was Dr. Kulp (rest in peace, you pessimistic skin grafter), and the good doctor proceeded to scrape off two suspicious-looking moles (one on my left shoulder, the other on my right forearm), telling me I needed to have my moles checked every 4-6 months or else I was going to get Melanoma and die.

As a 20-year-old, dying was not on my to-do list (and as a 30-year-old now, it still isn’t).

I was made all the more anxious by learning that I would have to make a return visit to Dr. Kulp so he could cut out some of the skin on my shoulder and forearm after finding “abnormal cells” in the moles he had previously scraped off.

Coincidentally, the return visit was scheduled for October 31 of that year.

👻

Dr. Kulp had to expect something entertaining, what with giving me Valium on Halloween and bringing in a nurse, donning Playboy Bunny ears, to assist him with the operation.

It was, in the immortal words of Tony the Tiger, “Grrrrrrrrrrrreat!”

Until the Valium wore off.

I switched doctors the following year, because I couldn’t bear to listen to Dr. Kulp tell me once every 4-6 months that I was going to die (like, I get it, Doc, get me some more Valium!).

But the Dermatologist at Blue Ridge told me I only needed to get my moles checked once every 12 months, which, while still not pleasant, is better than every six months.

Wear sunscreen, y’all! And check your moles!