Mike Rowe is making wine barrels with a Scottish guy. I don’t even care about the barrels, but I could listen to these two talk all day.
He’s at Saguin Moreau in Napa, and I always wondered what they did. They’re on a major thoroughfare, so I didn’t think they were a winery. Instead, they make barrels. Thanks, TV!
I found an apartment. My lease starts September 8th. I need to find movers now. Previously, I would have gathered my friends with promises of beer and pizza and be exhausted and sweaty and sore 10 hours later having finished everything myself after they all bailed four hours earlier — but now I have an obscenely large, incredibly expensive, totally awesome, 60 inch, super high-def, kick-your-ass TV. I’ve named him Ben, after the quarterback of the Pittsburgh Steelers, because, while there are several reasons to own an obscenely large, incredibly expensive, totally awesome, 60 inch, super high-def, kick-your-ass TV, football is right up there in the top 3. You can see the individual blades of grass on the football field. My television has a better view of the game than actually being at the stadium, on the 50 yard line, 5 rows back, and I know this from experience to be an indisputable fact.
So where was I? Oh, yeah, movers. I need movers because I need them to insure this hunk of awesome, because it’s really delicate and ever so pretty. I’m considering having them come in and pack everything up for me, too, because that increases the rate at which they insure your property — so instead of $0.60 per dollar (or a measly $2400) they would be liable for the whole cost. I just have to find out how much that costs, and if it is offset by not having to buy another television until 2020 (it has two HDMI ports, for God’s sake!).
Oh, and I get to have Jackson in my new apartment. I blatantly lied, though, on the application, and claimed his weight as 40 pounds even though he weighs 50. I don’t care — he’s a medium sized dog, and going off of weight is retarded. I know Greyhounds that weigh less than him, while being more than three times his size.
Jackson toy update: At Kim’s suggestion, I picked up two more Tuffie’s - these are levels 8 and 9, whereas the dinosaur thing was a level 7. So far, no damage, but they are kind of large and he doesn’t seem too interested in them. I mean, he plays with them, but he doesn’t try to open them; he carries them around, but he’s not trying to dive in to them, which is weird. I also bought him six more toys from Bamboo, in assorted sizes, and he seems to enjoy chewing at those.
Funny story — one of the Bamboo toys is just this long red stuffed tube, basically (like the one he destroyed in the previous pictures, but tougher), but it had a rope with a tennis ball attached to it, so you could play tug-of-war. Two minutes after getting the toy, Jackson has gnawed through the three-inch rock climbing rope and pulled the tennis ball free. He then proceeded to play with absolutely nothing else aside from that tennis ball for 10 straight days until it was then half a tennis ball and no longer bounced. It’s wonderful to come home from a 10 hour shift and find various sizes of ex-tennis ball lying everywhere. And you know what? I could have bought you a tennis ball for $0.95, you punk. Go play with the $10 toy it was attached to.