This would be the first blog post I've ever created. I used to write all the time. Some things funny, some things dumb, some things I should never have documented at all because they were either illegal, immoral or just downright shameful in nature.
My most recent creative inspiration is the new addition to our family, Frankie, the pit bull rescue that I brought home to stay. I can't honestly say who or what represents the "Beanz" in the blog title. It could be Shooter, our chihuahua, who if eaten by Frankie wouldn't even elicit a full bowel movement, but more of a stinky fart. It could be the gas that she passes after inhaling a bowl full of kibble. It could very easily and most appropriately represent the level of knowledge I have of the pit bull breed. Hell! Any breed for that matter. I don't know shit about "real" dogs. The depth of my knowledge stops with our chihuahua, Shooter (Beanz) who shits in a litter box and has a soft spot for chips and salsa and pepperoni. To say that I don't know beanz about "real" dogs is pretty much my reality in a nutshell, and it's due to this fact that the ordeal has been quite an adventure so far, and I'm convinced the adventure will continue indefinetly.
So far I haven't fucked up either of my kids. Let's see what I can do to a 50lb dog that's strong enough to pull a volkswagen, tough enough to kill a man, gassy enough to clear a room, and sweet enough to melt your heart.
Let the adventure begin.