BARK BARK ...BARK BARK BARK ...BARK ...BARK BARK BARK BARK!

Now don't get me wrong, ...I love animals.  I love animals more than humans, but I don't understand why people get those Collie-sized fucking dogs and put them in the yard to sit all day long, alone, with absolutely nothing to do but find shit to bark at, ...including the neighbors, ...me!

I have a wonderful house that sits on a cul-de-sac.  It's peaceful and quiet and serene, ...now that I've trained my neighbors with the dog.

My backyard buts up right next to the neighbor's on the other side of the block, and only a chain link fence separates our yards.  These neighbors have a Collie-sized dog and until I learned how to properly train the dog, well, the neighbors actually, I couldn't go in my yard without this fucking dog standing at that fence and barking at everything I did.  It wasn't just a bark or two, I'm fine with that, but rather a constant, loud barking for however long I was in the yard.

Not only was I audibly assaulted whenever I went into my yard, but this dog would bark at anything that moved or made the slightest sound, and all day long.  Any squirrel or bird, any falling leaf, any small gust of wind, and, ...bark, bark, ...bark, bark, bark,  ...bark,  ...bark, bark, bark, bark!

I tried the neighborly approach.  I tried to get the dog to become familiar with me, many times.  I'd go up to the fence, assume a passive posture, make those high-pitched "Here Susy, come here..." sounds, extend my hand, ...nothing worked.  The dog only ran back towards the house and continued barking from there.  I talked to the neighbors themselves.  I got nothing but a look of confusion as to why the barking bothered me.

My aggravation grew over the years.  All of my other neighbors have dogs, but they're small dogs that you can barely hear when they bark, and they don't bark often nor constantly.  I like those dogs and I even take care of some of them when their owners are away on vacation.  Not this dog, though.

I tried the technical approach and got one of those ultrasonic noise makers.  The one that you set in the yard and is activated by the barking sound.  It worked, ...for about two weeks until the dog got used to the ultrasound.

I tried the aggressive approach by yelling at the fucker and running straight at him.  I'd throw shit at the fence where it stood.  I'd spray water at it from the garden hose.  Again, it would only run back to the house and bark from there.  I could see the neighbors watching me through their window as I got more aggressive.  I knew they were wondering about me, ...not the dog, but me.

Christmas morning, I was in bed (only 40 feet from that fence and the dog) and, ...bark, bark, bark!  This was not unusual, ...weekend mornings, days off, at night, ...this fucking dog barked all the time.  This was Christmas morning, though, at 7:30am.  I got out of bed, went into the yard wearing nothing but my underwear, and yelled at the top of my lungs "Shut that god damned dog up!".  All my neighbors are church-going Christians, so this didn't sit well with them, but I was at my wit's end.

The neighbors with the dog started, finally, realizing I was going into Son Of Sam mode and every time I was in my yard, with the dog barking, they would now come out into their yard and stand and watch.

I was about to really go Berkowitz.  I started thinking of poisoning, and, a few times, my fucking Smith & Wesson 12-gauge shotgun seemed like a plausible solution.  All the time I'm wondering why these neighbors don't realize what a nuisance this barking is to me.  They are retired, and maybe their hearing isn't so good?  Don't they hear this barking, too?  Haven't they seen all the references on television about neighbor's dogs barking driving neighbors crazy?  Why don't they get it!

So, for about two weeks, I went out in the yard at 2am and played with my new toy.  It set the dog wild and, of course, into a barking spree.  Within two minutes the neighbor's lights would come on, I'd stop the car, they'd hush the dog, and return to bed.  Round #2 would come next, then Round #3, ...after an hour or so, I'd stop.  The neighbors soon knew it was me playing with my car.  One night the wife came all the way over to the fence to see what was stirring the dog.  She saw me, and the car, paused for a moment as I waved, then went back into her house.

See motherfuckers!  Isn't it nice hearing that damn dog of yours?  Now, the dog is kept locked up at their back porch where the barking isn't so invasive.  I feel badly for the dog, it isn't its fault, but then again, I don't deserve all that punishment.

If you're going to buy a dog, for the pet value or as a guard at night, ...buy a small one that isn't so loud and hyper!  Don't buy the cute, pretty 50-pound fucker!

Some sort of weird weather system had kicked up the sand in the desert areas to the west of Dallas.

I was heading for Jackson Hole for a weekend of skiing, but all the flights were cancelled.  The airport had more cancellations than on 9-11.

Python skin Wallabees!

Invariably, when I go to the AnimEX Festival, my Wallabees get mentioned.  I forget the gent's name, I'm so bad with names, but someone mentioned that Ghostface Killah is heavily into the Wallabees.  Sure enough, I found his first CD.

I want some of these, too!

Back from another great AnimEX Festival!  It seems this will become an annual event for me, and no surprise.  An all-expenses paid week in Middlesbrough, England to hang with some of the coolest people in the animation and gaming industries.  Very special thanks goes to Gabby!

Probably the funniest part of the whole trip happened the very last night at the big blowout party at the Hardwick Inn.  I was chatting with two new friends and one of them asked me if I had heard the "Nφrwegiån Stφry".  Heard the Nφrwegiån Stφry?  ...I was there for the Nφrwegiån Stφry, mates!

...but we'll get back to that later!

I arrived at the Teesside International Airport early Sunday morning.  Jet lag never used to bother me, but as I get older, it now rips the shit out of me.

First thing I did to recover?  ...shower!  A shower can be worth more than 12 hours of sleep.  The second thing I did?  ...BANGERS AND MASH!

Gabby and Sean Crooks, of 3rd Dimension, took me to a local pub for what had to be one of the best plates of British Cuisine I've had in a long time.  I'm not sure why bangers are so much better than any other sausage, but they are!

The first night Sean and the lads took me to the Southfield Pub, otherwise known as The Scream.  I happened to wear my The Scream T-shirt that night, by shear coincidence.

After a few warm-up hours there, we headed for the next swill station, ...the Crown!  Definitely one of the hot spots in Middlesbrough.

Middlesbrough really is a nice place.  It's large enough to be interesting and have good restaurants and night life, but it's also small enough to cover on foot.

Sean explained that these three girls were female Chavs.  Chavs are like a contemporary Dickensian group of youths from the "unworking class".  They live on council estates and other low-income neighborhoods, often supported by the government.  They celebrate ignorance and reject education, thus making themselves unemployable.  They have a strong aversion to anyone who engages in education and trying to raise their station in life.  Sounds like many of my childhood friends ;)

They can be easily spotted by their dark blue tracksuits with a white stripe running down each leg, hooded sweat shirts, and ball caps worn sideways. The legs of the tracksuits are tucked in at the ankles.  Fake gold jewelry such as large earrings and trinkets on chains are worn by the women, and gold sovereign rings and large fake gold chains for the men.
Female wears thickly applied make-up, large hoop or dangle earrings, makes heavy use of fake tan, and has a hairstyle in which the hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail called a council-house facelift ;)

Many a night I would see Chavs on their bicycles, circling about like seagulls looking for any open opportunities.

I was later to learn that these were not so much lesbians as girls who "didn't care so much".  One of the girls said they only did this to excite the lads and, well, there I was sailing my ship towards the Sirens much of the night.

After shutting down the Crown sometime in the wee hours of Monday morning, we ended the evening with a take-away Parmo!

An invention born in Middlesbrough, a Parmo is sort of like Chicken Parmesian from hell!  Flattened, breaded chicken breasts, deep fried to a crispy goodness, then smoothered in cheddar cheese and this "white" sauce (didn't ask, didn't want to know).

Mmmmm! ...yummy Parmo, yum yum!

The next few nights were spent at the various AnimEX parties.

Of course, one night, there was curry!

The town was where Captain Cook hailed, and it was the town that Bram Stoker used for the setting of Dracula.  It is also where jet (black amber) is found.  Queen Victoria, having gone into life-long mourning after her husband Prince Albert died, only wore this gem stone.

We had fish and chips for lunch, of course.  Best fish and chips I've ever had, although this was probably enhanced by the setting of the pub where we ate. 

The White Lion and Griffin opened in 1681 and was where Captain Cook paid off his crew when they returned to port.  The pub has its own fleet of 4 fishing boats which catch the cod daily.  It is then filleted, battered, and deep fried.  You couldn't get more authentic nor fresh!

Coming from America, where something is ancient if it is 100 years old, I'm always amazed when I go to Europe.  THIS is old!  Whitby has its 199 Steps that lead up to the Abbey.  They are so old that the granite has been worn into troughs by the countless feet that have traversed them.  I always think of all the years and all the stories that have come and gone, ...the joys and heartaches that are now forgotten.

Each night was a party to outdo the previous.

Lithuanians, Norwegians, Swedes, the Dutch, Russians, ...so many people come from all over Europe to the Festival.

Norwegians?

Okay, time for the Nφrwegiån Stφry!

I find I'm sensitive to the image Americans have in Europe.  I don't like it, and I try my best to act the opposite.  Europeans don't hate Americans, but we do have an image of being loud, overly confident, know-it-alls, invented-it-all, run the world, and everyone should speak our language.  Okay, maybe that's all true, but it's not a good image to have when visiting foreign places ;)

So anyways, we were all at a local bar, Sassari's, attending the Networking Party.  This is where the students get to meet the speakers and practice their networking skills and make connections with professionals and such.

The party had been underway for 2 hours, and I was outside catching a smoke with 8 or 9 Norwegians.  They were speaking Norwegian and I was enjoying listening to them.  They apologized for excluding me from the conversation, but I begged them to continue.  I never feel alienated and love hearing foreign languages.

I also had started a conversation with the only female in the group and came to learn she was actually born in Croatia.  I impressed her with my small vocabulary in Croatian and limited knowledge of the culture, history, and geography.

Just then, swaggering into the group from the street, came a fellow American.  Hearing everyone speaking a strange language, he asked me what was going on.  I explained they were from Norway and that I was enjoying listening to them.

First thing out of his mouth, the very first thing he says to these strangers, and in that typical American boisterous fashion, ...he says "Norwegia?  You're the guys we shot in that movie!".  As he said this, he scanned each in their eyes as he panned across the group.

I immediately went into culture shock!  Jumping Jesus!  He then went into a reenactment of the scene from the movie, and making a horrible version of Norwegian being spoken.  As he did this, I was wondering to myself, what movie?  When did we go to war with Norway?  The Vikings, maybe?

The faces on the folks were a strange mixture of simulated smiles and complete confusion, mine too probably.  Seeing our bewilderment, he went on to explain "You know, that movie with the alien and your guys tried to come kill that dog and we shot you, ...THAT movie!".  He then turned about and went into Sassari's.  Americans!  ... ;)

Thanks Nikki, Graham, and Badger!

Of course I found the one Russian woman.  It's just natural, you know!  I simply MUST find the time to learn this language!

Again, thanks to everyone for making this a truly wonderful week!  Gabby, Chris, and the organizers, ...the drivers, ...and my friends that made sure I had a great time each night and made it home safely ;)

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