Creak's Cabana

Creak here. A brief respite from Operation: Biscuit Freedom has given me time to reflect on life, liberty, and the pursuit of doggyness. It turns out summer is here, though it doesn't seem quite like it yet. With all the rain in my area it was a soggy spring indeed, and thus far, summer doesn't seem to be any different. Still, I'm excited, because it means I get to be too hot and shed like crazy. Yes, faithful readers, summer is hard on old Creak. The last one was killer, and the following cold winter levied my hopes to a certain extent, though the coming heat always gets me riled. That's why I have taken drastic measures (part of the 'new and improved' decisive, effective Creak).

Air conditioning, the miracle of fanned Freon, has made it to my doghouse. This was a strategic move for a number of reasons, all of them brilliant. First and foremost, I like to be slightly chilled, as it suits my demeanor. Cool hand Creak, that's me. Secondly, it's very important to note the power air conditioning has. On a hot day, where would the neighborhood dogs rather be than in the comfortably cool Creak pad? This means my expensive purchase will be paid off, way beyond the initial cost. Not only will I charge at the door, but also, the bar will be open (but priced nicely!) and the pool tables will keep the local ruffians occupied as well as keeping the green flowing.

A success story on all fronts; not only will I be cool, but I'll be rich and popular. An expansion is planned, especially after the success of the nightclub. It's getting wild down at Creak's Cabana, where the only thing cooler than the drinks is the air! I've even planned a comedy night. A few no names have joined--some Seinfeld guy being one of them--but we're really trying to get Seth Davis to come down and throw us some of that Boston style. Still, I have to be careful-- I'm getting too involved in this modern lifestyle. The pain brings me back to earth now and again, and I'm doing the best I can. After comedy night, I'll try and get wet in the pool, as much as I'm going to hate leaving the delicious artificial cold of my den. In fact, it's time to sleep under the box of arctic glory right now. Creak out.