The Tory Party

Hoke Math, Hoke Handwriting

He wants space? Take his age. Divide by five. That’s how many days to leave him alone.

Dad Hoke, regarding a co-worker’s love life:

Alsoes:

Whose handwriting is this? Mine? My dad’s? OH WAIT THEY ARE THE SAME.

Dog Discipline

As people tend to do, I visited my folks for the Fourth of July. My dad’s dog, Jackie, a doberman/boxer/something with short pointy ears mix, is going through a bad behavior cycle, which happens sometimes, and I’d be happy to write you a short essay on why, but that’s not the point.

Jackie has long exhibited food possessiveness. Growling when Jake comes near your bone, OK, fine, no likey, but whatevs. Growling when I come near her bone gets a NO and a bone-steppy — howya gonna chew with my foot on your bone, hah? Who’s alpha now?

But her behavior takes a turn she dogfights with Jake.

If you know dogs you’ve seen play-fighting — the tail-wagging kind of fighting than can get snarly, but if somebody plays too rough the other will say so and then it’s time for a breather and a play-bow.

This is not that kind of fighting. This is Amores Perros fighting.

When it happens (they’re never left alone together), I grab Jackie by the scruff of the neck and hold her down until she settles.

Okay. But the strange part is when I do this I have no idea what I’m doing.

I’m not mad. I’m not scared. I’m just… NO.

And on autopilot.

I can’t tell if this bodes well or ill for my prospective childrearing abilities.

Campaign Trail

Even funner than Oregon Trail.

Actually, we’d just come from some quality Easter churchin’. It’s the demure knee-length that sets the tone.

The Major and the Donut

I wrote a four-page essay on this photo for Art History class (studying Camera Lucida, livin’ the dream) but it boils down to this:

I like my dad.

FIN

Dad Hoke on “Flags of Our Fathers”

dad feels that “flags of our fathers” was “million dollar baby goes to war.” hillary swank’s character was divided into three pretty guys.