Les Dangers D’un Pouvoir Incontrôlé

July 3, 2025 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good morning and Happy 4^th of July tomorrow. I consider myself a fortunate Canis lupis familiaris as fireworks are banned in our neighborhood. This of course does not mean someone will not shoot some off, but it is a relief to know our neighborhood will not turn into an all-out war zone. From what my novelist told me about this place before I was born, it did not have a fireworks ban and was indeed a war zone with all sorts of explosives going off everywhere lighting the sky on fire. The smell of smoke hung in the air two or three days later. She still will not take me on walks from July 3^rd until after July 5^th. Apparently, she once had an unexpected run in with a patron who was leaving the drug dealer’s house across the street. She was going on a walk with my predecessor on July 5^th, and a firecracker was hurled in her direction by said patron whom she had never even met. Even though she witnessed the drug dealer and his ill-mannered pit bull being evicted from the house by the police one night later that same year after an explosion went off in his house, she still does not take chances during the 4^th of July. Even with the ban. I think that might be a bit extreme but then she is an introverted NT personality type.

That said, if you read last week’s blog you know that my novelist is in a trance. She has been scanning over the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale. And I thought, how can I put this insanity to good use. Well, it occurred to me I might take this time to address school clothes. My novelist and I are not influencers. So, we are not here to discuss the latest fashions. We are not trained in that area. But we do have some gentle suggestions based on costume design classes she was required to take at her university.

Avoid fast fashion. Yes, we know it’s cheaper, but you get what you pay for. Even with the higher end fast fashion. Even if you do not care about it greatly harming the earth, know that fast fashion is designed to rip you off. You end up buying clothes and then tossing them away because they are not sewn right or they are made of subpar yarns and fabrics. It is better to buy less clothes of good quality than more clothes of poor quality. If you see something you like, always do a search on the brand to see if it is fast fashion and if it is, choose something else.
Don’t go broke buying overpriced designer brands. You may have the desire to buy a few of these pieces but do not go crazy. Especially if they have a trendy look. You will not get your money’s worth out of them and there’s better ways to save or spend your money.
Choose natural fabrics. Unless you are purchasing clothing for a job or something you must have for a school project, or your medical doctor said you had to wear them, try to always choose natural fabrics. Alpaca, angora, bamboo, cashmere, cotton, hemp, linen, genuine leather, mohair, ramie, silk, wool (especially merino wool which is softer) are amongst your best choices. They tend to last longer and generally feel better. If the item has some elastane (spandex or Lycra) mixed in that is okay. But try to avoid polyester, acrylic, nylon, faux fur, and neoprene as best as possible. The one clothing item I would omit from this list is running shoes or trainers because sometimes that is what you need to wear. But again, I would stick to brands like New Balance, Hoka, On Clouds, Puma and other non-fast fashion shoes.
Choose colors that look good on you. This is not always easy, but you can get this book which has been around since the 80’s called Color Me Beautiful by Carole Jackson that is a good start to figuring out what looks best on you and what colors you like.
Choose clothes that fit you. Some places such as Nordstroms will make alterations to clothing which is wonderful. You book an appointment and go in. If, however, you do not wish to have alterations, make sure the clothes you choose fit you. Just because you like something on the hanger, or on a website, does not mean it will look good on you personally, or it may not be the proper size. If it doesn’t fit you, or looks odd on you even if it fits, you likely won’t wear it much and you’ve wasted your hard-earned money.

Until next week, I wish you a happy holiday and I bid you adieu.

MY BOOKS

You can check out my books Chicane and all five installments of the Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!, Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!, Musicology: Volume Three, Twist!, Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! and Musicology: The Epiquad on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. You can also check out Musicology’s web site at www.musicologyrocks.com and vote for who you think will win Musicology!

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: THE TWILIGHT ZONE SEASON 3, EPISODE 3: IT’S A GOOD LIFE-PARAMOUNT +**

Occasionally a television episode will stand out for one reason or another that I think is extraordinary. And it being the 4^th of July I thought this would be a good one. Based on the 1953 short story “It’s a Good Life” by Jerome Bixby which is considered one of the best Sci-Fi short stories of all time, it is also considered one of the most chilling Twilight Zones of all time. Take note when you watch it that Rod Serling’s introduction is a little different than usual here. This is not by accident. He is pointing out to you that the monster in this episode has done something very important: it has isolated its victims.

Without giving much away, the story is based on three things: WWII ended only eight years before the short story was written, there is a fear of nuclear war, and there is a fear of totalitarianism. If we look at our society today, it has been four years since the war in Afghanistan ended for the US, there is a fear of AI, and there is a fear of totalitarianism. If you have ever wondered what the difference is between pop fiction and literature, this episode shows it brilliantly. Yes, the monster may be a child because it’s childish. Yes, this may be a small town because the inhabitants are isolated. But this is not a commentary on child rearing. The child isn’t really a child, and the town isn’t really a town. Everything here, all of it, is metaphorical. Great literature is often metaphorical, presents a strong argument and is layered. It’s not just there to entertain the reader. Remember that the root of the word “actor” means plaintiff or someone who argues a point. This can be applied to novels and short stories as well as film and stage. Look for lots of details in this episode, like what is the “corn field” when we think of the story in relevance to WWII and modern times and even what’s playing on the television in one of the scenes. An absolute must see.

Internet Wonderland

May 1, 2025 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good morning. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce this week’s blog. I am delighted to say we are back up and running. We received our new surfboard modem from UPS, and it works well. We are now able to connect to the internet. This is of course a blessing and a curse. The internet is a vast expanse of information and as a poodle I find myself sometimes getting lost in its cavernous wonderland. I wander around looking at this video or reading that article or window shopping for those sparkly collars and then I look at the clock and I am stunned. The entire day is gone. How can this be? How can I have lost so much time? It is dreadful. It is wasteful. And yet, I am drawn to it like a bunny to a carrot. This nightmarish binge lasted a couple of days after we were back online and then I said to myself, I must stop. Life is too short to wander about in a virtual universe. There must be more to life than this. What did parti poodles do before the internet? I think they went to malls and strutted their beauty. I think they went to parties and strutted their beauty. I think they went to the park and strutted their beauty. How will I ever be able to strut my beautiful gorgeous black and white curls if I hide inside all day? I must be adored. There is a great big world out there of cats, bunnies, and dogs all strutting their beauty and they are missing out on the most beautiful creature of them all: Gigi. How can I deny the world my presence? Shame on me! I must rise on all fours, depart from my computer and voyage out on a mission to be absolutely adored. I will get on that right away…just as soon as I finish this game of solitaire. Until next week I bid you adieu.

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: THE LAST STOP IN YUMA COUNTY (2024)-SHOWTIME**

Small and quirky, this week’s pick takes a fresh spin on the hostage situation story written and directed by Francis Galluppi. Paying homage to tense low budget 70’s psychological thrillers, the film starts out on a quiet morning in Arizona with shots of a truck ala Duel and quickly takes us to a remote roadside diner and gas station with little else for miles around. A man known only as The Knife Salesman (Jim Cummings) has stopped for gas. He is enroute to see his little girl for her birthday who lives with her mother and stepfather in Carlsbad, California. When he arrives the gas station owner Vernon (Faizon Love) tells him the station’s pumps are empty and there isn’t another gas station for one hundred miles, but a refueling truck should be coming along shortly and he is welcome to wait in the diner next door.

The diner is owned by a pretty waitress named Charlotte (Jocelin Donahue) whom the salesman sees getting dropped off for work in a police car driven by her husband Sheriff Charlie (Michael Abbott Jr.). The Knife Salesman heads inside, and Charlotte pours him a cup of coffee and apologizes for the broken air conditioner. Over the radio we hear the Radio Host (Matt McVay) talk about a bank robbery that happened early this morning in Buckeye, Arizona involving thieves who fled with approximately $700,000 in a green Ford Pinto with a damaged rear end. Not long after that, a green Ford Pinto, which is running out of gas, pulls up to the gas station. The car has two men in it, a seasoned criminal named Beau (Richard Brake), and a young hot shot named Travis (Nicholas Logan). After finding out from Vernon they need to wait for the refueling truck to arrive, they enter the café, sit down and order coffee. As customer after customer comes into the diner the tension begins to rise and the sign outside that reads “You’ll Die for Our Rhubarb Pie” gets closer and closer to becoming literal for the patrons inside.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Forty-Nine

November 7, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter forty-nine of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Yesterday my novelist went and got her Covid shot, and her Flu shot she has been quite tired today. I asked her to assist me with my intro and she snored. She is most difficult when she is groggy. I am surprised she was even able to get my drinking water changed this morning. She really should take my needs into consideration when she gets inoculated. Her sleepiness is most disrupting to my life. Especially since I have a garden party with Bernard this afternoon. I have become quite a celebrity with Bernard and the other bunnies as a fairytale writer. In the late afternoons we sit out on the grass and all the bunnies gather round and I tell them fairy tales. They are especially fond of the one about the troll that lives in the abandoned tree house. Every night the troll climbs down from his tree house to hunt squirrels although the local squirrels led by Sergio dismiss this idea as fiction. That said I am desperate to finish up here so I can go be admired by the local wildlife. And so, I will wrap it up here and quickly introduce chapter forty-nine of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant.

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Forty-Nine

After Fia secured the door to the attic, she hurried down the stairs and burst outside. She spotted Grady’s minivan and headed towards the driver’s door. Someone came out of the van and ran for the garage. Hanging back in the shadows, she watched the figure open the garage door and hurry inside. Fia ran for the van, peered into the window, and saw Curtis slumping over in the passenger’s seat. She tried to open the passenger side door, but it was locked.

“Curtis!” she yelled pounding on the window. But he was not moving. She tried pulling on the van’s side door, but it too was locked. She ran to the driver’s side door and tried to open it, but to no avail. “Curtis!” she yelled again, pounding on the windshield. But Curtis remained motionless.

Fia turned to see the figure who’d run into the garage start to pull Curtis’s Aunt Odette’s Vespa out of the garage. Fia snuck through the shadows searching around the ground as she went for something to use as a weapon. Suddenly, she spotted an old-discarded wooden rake and slowly picked it up. She moved towards the side of the garage.

The figure revved the Vespa’s engine. Fia got into position holding the rake like a baseball bat. Her heart pounded as she waited for her opportunity. The figure coasted the scooter forwards and as she did Fia swung. The end of the rake hit the driver square in the face causing her to fall off the vehicle. Fia proceeded to whack the passenger several times. “Where’s the key’s to the van?” she demanded.

“Stop hitting me!” Makenna shouted back. She reached out and grabbed the rake’s handle pulling Fia down to the ground. The two women grappled for control.

“Give me the keys he’s not moving!”

“I don’t have the keys!”

“What do you mean you don’t have the keys?”

“I jammed them into him.”

“What? Why?”

“Because he wouldn’t shut up.”

“He’s dying in there.”

“I have a Vespa to ride.”

Makenna pulled the rake out of Fia’s hands and swung it at Fia’s head. Fia rolled out of the way and hopped to her feet. She reached for the rake, but Makenna jabbed the pole’s end at her. Fia stumbled back.

“We’ve got to get him out of there, Makenna!”

“He can rot in there for all I care.”

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing.”

Makenna jabbed the rake at Fia again. Fia jumped back and realized the only way to help Curtis was to let Makenna escape. “Go ahead and take the Vespa.”

Makenna backed up towards the scooter, her weapon ready to jab again. Fia stood and watched her. Makenna, rake still in hand hopped on, revved the engine and took off. As she was peeling out of the driveway, Fia ran to the minivan and peered into the passenger side window. “Curtis! Curtis, open the door!”

Curtis remained slumped over and motionless against the passenger side door. Fia pulled her phone out of her back pocket and dialed 911.

“911,” a female operator said. “What is your emergency?”

“My friend has passed out in a van, and he isn’t moving,” Fia said.

“Is he sleeping?”

“No, I can’t wake him up.”

“Are you in the van with him?”

“No, I’m locked outside.”

“What is your location?”

“I’m at 1800 Big Lake Drive.”

“Is the van parked in the front or the back of the residence?”

“It’s in the front facing the road.”

“I’m dispatching a unit out there right now. They should be there in five minutes.”

“Please tell them to hurry. I’m not sure what happened to him, but I think he may have been assaulted.”

“Did you see someone suspicious around who may have attacked him?”

“Yes.”

“Can you describe them?”

“When are the emergency responders supposed to get here?”

“In a couple of minutes.”

Fia peered into the passenger side window. “He’s not moving.”

“Alright I’ll stay on the line until they get there.”

Just then Fia heard sirens wailing in the distance. “I think they’re on their way.”

The blue and red flashing lights of the police prowlers came racing down the road and spun into the driveway. Fia saw the lights of neighbor’s houses flip on. The officers got out of their car just as the siren of an ambulance came into earshot. The ambulance whipped around the corner and plowed into the front yard of Aunt Odette’s house.

This was followed by the sound of a fire engine screaming from the opposite direction. The red leviathan snaked its way into the driveway and pulled up beside the ambulance. Two firefighters jumped off the truck. One of them was wielding an axe. He ran up beside Fia. “Which side is he on?”

“The passenger’s side,” she said.

The fireman ran over to the minivan, lifted his axe and smashed it into the driver’s side window sending shards of glass everywhere. He reared the axe back and struck the window again. Then he reached in and unlocked the driver’s side door.

His partner leaned across the seat, grabbed Curtis and dragged him out of the van. “Looks like we’ve got a bleeder here!”

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: AMERICAN FICTION (2023)-PRIME VIDEO**

This week’s pick was last year’s winner of the Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay. And although I would have picked The Holdovers in this category, this is a fantastic script well worthy of the prize. The film was written and directed by Oscar winner Cord Jefferson based on the novel Erasure by Percival Everett. It’s the story of a professor and novelist who strives his entire life to write profound literature. And he is successful at it except for one thing: his books are not best sellers.

Thelonious ‘Monk’ Ellison (brilliantly and drolly played by Academy Award Nominee Jeffery Wright) is a literature professor living in Los Angeles who wants to be a great author. He does not want to be seen as a great author because he is African American, he wants to be seen as a great author because his books are outstanding. He gets irritated when bookstores put his works in the African American Studies section instead of the Literature section. He gets frustrated with his family because his siblings Lisa (Tracee Ellis Ross) and his brother Clifford (Sterling K. Brown) are both doctors and praised for their intelligence while he is ignored. Especially by his mother Agnes (Leslie Uggams) who has Alzheimer’s disease and touts Clifford as a genius despite his hedonistic lifestyle.

When Monk’s university puts him on leave over verbal conflicts with students, he travels out to see his family at his mom and dad’s summer home in Boston. While there, Monk meets next-door neighbor and lawyer Coraline (Erika Alexander). He attends a seminar where a first time author he despises named Sinatra Golden (Issa Rae) published a successful novel called We’s Lives in Da Ghetto chock full of black stereotypes.And then tragedy strikes.

Nearing his wit’s end, Monk sits down one night and pens a satirical melodramatic novel about the black experience. He takes it into his agent Arthur (John Ortiz) and says it was written as a joke, but Arthur sends the book out anyway under the pseudonym Stagg R. Leigh causing all sorts of pandemonium for Monk.

Certified Sadistic Accountant: Chapter Thirty-Six

July 25, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce Chapter Thirty-Six of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week my novelist has done a lot of cleaning which I find a rather dull affair. I do like a clean home, but it is such a bother to scrub this and sweep that. I can think of much more entertaining ways to spend my time. I do think there are those out there who find cleaning cathartic. My novelist, however, does not. She does it begrudgingly. She does it because she must. She does not find one scrap of joy in it. It is out of necessity and nothing more. I find it utterly exhausting watching her dust this and straighten that. And don’t get me started on vacuuming. That’s just mortifying. Absolute terror if you want to know the truth. But since her cleaning spree things are a little neater. A little better. Still, I would rather write and let the dust settle where it may. And with that thought here is Chapter Thirty-Six of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Attention à la poussière.

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Thirty-Six

Let’s back up.

Fia ran down the hall, swung right and plowed down the stairs. She rushed past the kitchen into the living room, her heart racing so fast she could hardly see. She tripped, caught her balance and burst out the front door. She turned left and headed around the house towards the lake. She was certain as soon as Curtis found a way to get loose, he would assume she ran for the road. As she turned right and followed the shoreline, she considered calling out for help. But the last thing she needed was to draw Curtis’s attention and end up back in the attic.

She slowed and moved stealthily along the bank, grateful for freedom. Fresh clean air raced in and out of her lungs. She was glad she had worn low-healed lace up boots to the office the day Curtis abducted her. Tennis shoes would have been better, but the boots worked fine. She glanced out at the water. The sun glittered on it like diamonds. Although it was sunny, it was still cold. It was April after all. She wished she’d grabbed a warmer coat like that old fur Curtis’s aunt had hanging in the armoire. At least she’d put on a medium weight jacket, and it didn’t look as though it was going to rain.

Her ears perked for the sound of someone coming up behind her. She turned around every so often just to make sure no one was on her trail. She could see it was getting closer to sunset. Her hope was to make it out on the main drag by dark and arrive at the mall before it closed. She’d head into one of the stores and borrow the phone to call her parents. Then she could be home that night and sleep in her own full-sized bed. It wasn’t a perfect bed. It needed a new mattress and a new bedding set. But as far as she was concerned, it was the best bed in the world. Somewhere along here there must be a trail to take to get to the main road. Otherwise, she’d end up circling the lake.

“Hey!” someone shouted from their deck startling her. “This is private property!”

Fia ignored them and kept moving. She hurried past two more houses. Then she saw a road leading out. She turned and headed up it and arrived at the shoulder of the main road. She stayed as far to the side as she could, hoping to be camouflaged by the foliage. She worried about how winding the path was, but she had no choice. A pickup truck sped past her. A Labrador mix in the flatbed barked at her as it went by. For a moment Fia thought of Curtis’s little Yorkshire Terrier. If only those idiot accountants hadn’t broken into his house and the dog hadn’t gotten killed, she wouldn’t be doing this right now.

The seemingly endless stretch of asphalt was going to be a lot longer going back than it had been going in. Though it was chilly, walking kept her warm. She slogged along knowing daylight was fading and darkness was not far away. Traffic was light but she was still concerned about being hit by a vehicle. Every so often she checked behind her to see if Curtis was hot on her trail. But she didn’t see anyone. She swore she would never trust people again. She’d met questionable guys in college, but Curtis took the cake.

Fia finally made it to the intersection leading into town. Darkness had fallen and although the sky had been clear earlier, it had started to rain. But she was free and that was what mattered. She plodded along towards the crosswalk and waited for the signal. She turned left en route to the mall. The walk had been much longer than she had anticipated. But she’d made it. She wasn’t wearing a watch, and her phone was long gone. She figured it was late enough that the mall was likely closed by now.

When she reached the mall, she found the parking lot desolate. She walked over to the doors where she and Curtis had entered to go to the sports store. She pulled on the handle and hung her head when she realized they were locked. She looked around to see if there was a security guard in the nearby vicinity. But she saw no one. She started to move around the perimeter of the building trying to stay sheltered from the pelting raindrops.

When she reached the opposite side, exhaustion flooded in, and she knew she would have to either find a way to contact her family soon or seek shelter until she regained energy. Regaining energy sounded like the right option. She huddled in the back of the main entrance that led into the small food court, sank down, wrapped her arms around her knees and stared out at the road. She would stay here a short while, stave off sleep, and then continue her voyage home.

Fia woke with a jolt. It was still night, but it felt like it might be close to daybreak. She rose to her feet by pressing her back against the glass doors for balance until she was standing. The rain had stopped but it had grown colder. She shivered and hugged her arms around herself as she walked back around to the other side of the building. When she arrived at the corner, she lurked in the shadows and surveyed the parking lot still concerned that Curtis was looming around waiting for her. But as she scanned the open space from left to right no one was there. She proceeded towards the parking lot’s main entrance en route to the main drag. Everything felt cool and dark and still. The nap had done her good and she felt more rested. But it was still a long way home.

As she started over the bridge she looked down over the side and spotted two white trumpeter swans. She remembered reading somewhere that swans mated for life. As she continued, she started to think about stopping somewhere again. Home was still far away, and she would need to stop again for shelter soon. She recalled there was a church a little way up the steep hill that led downtown. She’d turn there and see if anyone was inside. Maybe even this late someone was around. Maybe they’d have a blanket. She decided it was a good thing she’d slept for a while at the mall. If Curtis had tried to find her, her trail would have gone cold there. She was confident he was not presently pursuing her. It was frustrating she was too far away from a police station, and she couldn’t remember where the closest fire station was from here. It had moved to a different location a year or two ago and she wasn’t sure where that was.

By the time she arrived at the church, Fia’s feet were aching. Wearily, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

“Please,” she muttered, her eyelids heavy, closing intermittently.

She listened for footsteps. None came. She knocked harder this time and waited. Nothing. She pounded one more time, louder and longer. Nothing. Fia sank down to the cement and pebble steps and curled up in the entryway.

A short time later, a hand reached out and touched her shoulder. “What are you doing here?” the owner of the hand said.

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: COLUMBO (1971)-AMAZON PRIME**

This summer I was looking for a show that I could stream that would be fun, smart and enjoyable to watch. I rediscovered the iconic classic Columbo. This show slaps. From the stylish 70’s living rooms to the wild wardrobes to the luxury cars of the time to the whip smart scripts to the unbelievably talented guest stars this show is a pure blast.

Set in Los Angeles, California and usually involving ridiculously wealthy upper-class villains, the stories often revolve around a greedy whip smart classy scumbag who decides to off someone for profit. These upper-crust rogues plan out their crime well. They don’t rush. They are not emotional. They know exactly what they want, and they have a sophisticated way they are going to get it. As the audience, we know the identity of the culprit early on and are often given clues to how to figure out how they will get caught along the way. Thus the show is what is known as an inverted detective story.

After committing the crime, in walks consummate INTP personality type Lieutenant Frank Columbo (marvelously and iconically played by Peter Falk). Columbo’s first name Frank is never mentioned in the show. It is only shown on his badge. He shows up in a beaten-up light-colored Peugeot wearing a rumpled trench coat (which Peter Falk himself once picked up for $15.00) and a modest suit and tie. He is humble, polite, curious, and very, very persistent. And, like all of us introverted intuitive thinkers, he works alone. The villain often finds him annoying, lowbrow, and pesky. Far too insignificant for the likes of them. But slowly, methodically, and merrily, Columbo puts the puzzle pieces into place all while thoughtfully smoking a green cigar.

Most crime shows today would be gritty, bloody and hard. Not here. This show lives in a world with a sense of humor, intelligence, class, and wit. If you are a fan of Only Murders in the Building or perhaps any number of British detective shows, this one might be right up your ally. Or if you’re just looking for something smart and breezy to binge and you’ve never watched it, give this classic landmark television show a try.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Seven

December 22, 2023April 24, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. Normally Gigi would be introducing the blog but this week I am. I am the one known as Him. And I want to give you my side of the story. These dogs are a pain in the neck. Spoiled to a fault. I mean they whine when they want to go outside, they whine when they want a treat, they whine when it’s suppertime and they whine when they want to sit on your lap. And then when one sits in your lap the other one either protests or starts a fight. They get me up at six in the morning. Sometimes five. Maybe if I were a farmer that would be acceptable. But I’m no farmer and this is insane. I don’t know how Gigi’s novelist puts up with these two. I’m about ready to trade them in on a mutt. There are some seriously nice dogs in the pound who would love a home and would be better behaved. Maybe I should box these two up and make a trade.

Are you talking to my audience?

Yes, I’m talking to your audience, Gigi. And I’m telling them what a pain in the neck you are.

That is most rude.

Yeah, I don’t think so.

And why aren’t you wrapping my Christmas gifts.

Your Christmas gifts? You’re on the naughty list, poodle. You’re not getting any Christmas gifts.

I am not on the naughty list. Santa sent me a letter saying so.

Santa sent you a letter. Right.

I have it right here. Allow me to read it: “Dear Gigi, you are no longer on the naughty list. You will be getting lots of presents this year. Sincerely, Santa Claus”. See. Now go wrap my gifts.

Why should I wrap you gifts if Santa Claus is going to deliver them to you?

Because…

I am Tucker and I am a Maltese. I am now going to bark the song Jingle Bells.

What? Not again! You dogs suck!

Listen to Him. Do not bark that stupid…

I just wanted to wish your audience Happy Holidays., Gigi

I…well…okay.

Maybe we should all wish your audience Happy Holidays.

Okay. Fine. Him, what do you think?

Sure, why not.

Okay one the count of three. One, two, three!

Happy Holidays!

And now here is Chapter Seven of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Joyeux Noël!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Seven

On Wednesday afternoon at exactly 12:15 PM, Makenna and Lance pulled up along the sidewalk of the street where Curtis’s duplex resided.

“Have you got your ski mask?” Makenna asked.

“Right here,” Lance said waving it around.

Makenna scowled. “Don’t be an idiot. Stick it in your hoodie pocket and don’t take it out until I say so.”

“Yeah, alright, okay, whatever.”

“It’s stupidity like this that makes me not want you tagging along.”

“I put the ski mask away, okay? Get a grip. Sheesh.”

“We’re going to follow the plan exactly as we planned it. Otherwise, we’re going to get caught. And I don’t want to get caught. Just like I don’t want to get caught cheating on my taxes.”

“You cheat on your taxes?”

“I just…I don’t want to get caught.”

“Alright, already. We’ll follow the plan exactly as we planned it.”

“Now let’s put our hoods up and get out of the car.” Makenna and Lance disembarked Makenna’s BMW and headed quietly up the street towards Curtis’s duplex. “Keep your hood up and your head down. The place likely has some sort of surveillance system.”

“I guessed Cook the Books probably had one.”

“More likely the landlord had something installed. You’ve got Grady’s dog crate, right?”

“I thought you were bringing it.”

“No, we agreed on this. You would bring the dog crate and I would put the dog in it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Makenna threw up her hands. “Let’s go back to the car and get the crate. We’re losing time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“This is the second reason I didn’t want you involved with this part of the plan.”

“You can’t do this kidnapping alone, Makenna.”

“Yes, I can. And don’t use my name. Who knows what kind of audio recording is listening to us around here.”

“You are so paranoid.”

“Only because you tagged along. If you didn’t, I’d have the dog in the car and be on my way to the safe house by now.”

They arrived at the car and Makenna popped the trunk. Lance reached in and grabbed the handle of Grady’s dog carrier. They adjusted their hoods and headed on route to Curtis’s duplex. Makenna motioned for Lance to head around to the back yard. Lance circled right, and she circled left. They met in the backyard which had a simple patch of green lawn and was surrounded by a wooden fence with a gate which they both entered. Makenna snuck up to the back door and took a few small thin metal tools out of her pocket and began to work the latch on the door.

“Can you actually open that?” Lance asked. Makenna glared at him and continued picking the lock. There was a click and Makenna turned the knob. They entered Curtis’s duplex and looked around. “Where do you think the surveillance camera is?”

Makenna scanned the apartment. She glanced up and thought she saw a camera in the upper right corner where the kitchen and living room met. “Up there,” she said.

Lance reached into his hoodie and produced a can of spray paint. “This ought to do the trick,” he thought, popped open the can and sprayed the lens.

“What are you doing?” Makenna snapped.

“I’m making sure the camera doesn’t incriminate us.”

“Don’t! Just…never mind.” She looked over and saw the bedroom door was cracked open. “I’ll bet the little furball is in there.”

“Ah,” Lance said and slid over to her. Makenna put her finger to her lips and gently pushed open the door. Inside they saw the small Yorkie, alert and sitting up on Curtis’s bed watching them. “You’re a cutie.”

“Shut up,” Makenna hissed. “You’re going to startle it.”

Haven yipped.

“Shh,” Lance said to Haven. Haven yipped again.

“Get out of here,” Makenna told Lance and pointed to the door.

“But…”

“Get out of this room.”

Haven yipped relentlessly. Makenna crept over to the side of the bed and sat down. She slowly extended her hand towards Haven. Haven cowered backwards into the pillows her bright green hair bow twitching slightly as she went.

Makenna reached into her pocket and produced a small Ziplock bag. She unzipped it, took out a treat, and held it out for Haven. “Come here, sweetie. I’ve got a goodie for you.” Haven cautiously crept closer, craned her neck forwards, and sniffed the treat. As she did Makenna leaned in closer. Haven did not like this and hopped back.

“Come on, sweetie.”

Haven remained cautious and did not move. Makenna narrowed her eyes and scooted closer. “Come on. Take the treat.”

Haven looked at the treat then at Makenna. She wagged her tail. Makenna leaned in closer. Then closer. Suddenly, Haven flew off the bed and took off for the door.

“Rotten little mutt!” Makenna yelled.

Lance, who had left the front door cracked open, didn’t see the little dog scurry past him and wiggle through the breach until it was too late. “Uh, oh,” he muttered warily.

Makenna burst out of the bedroom like a frenzied ferret. “Get that thing, you idiot!”

Lance lurched for the front door and burst outside to find Haven sitting on the grass looking at them wagging her tail and panting.

“Come to daddy,” Lance said as he took a slow step towards the dog. “Come on…come to daddy…”

The second Lance was in arms reach, Haven turned and ran. Now on a normal day there would be no traffic on the street in front of Curtis’s duplex. Today, however, one of the neighbors was having flowers delivered. When Haven took off, she bolted towards the oncoming delivery truck.

Makenna heard the engine rumbling down the street. “No!” she yelled as she ran towards the sidewalk. “Stop!”

The truck’s tires screeched to a halt.

MY BOOKS

You can check out my books Chicane and all five installments of the Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!, Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!, Musicology: Volume Three, Twist!, Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! and Musicology: The Epiquad on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. You can also check out Musicology’s web site at www.musicologyrocks.com and vote for who you think will win Musicology!

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: METROPOLITAN (1990)-HBO MAX**

Here is a Christmas movie many of you have probably not seen. Before the television shows Gossip Girl and Gossip Girl there was this more sophisticated and smarter film which contains a lot less soap factor and a lot more wit. Featuring a young and at that time mostly unknown cast (for many of them it was their first major motion picture) the story is set in Manhattan during the holiday season which is also what is known as the Deb (debutante) Season where the young wealthy teenage elite meander through a course of various parties dressed in haute couture dresses and black and white tie tuxedos. The more interesting time they spend together is the downtime after the parties than the parties themselves. The kids who are required to pair off and escort each other to these shindigs often end up gathering in one of the parent’s swanky townhouses late at night sitting about and discussing, or at least attempting to discuss cultural and philosophical ideologies. Or at least as best as teenagers can do in their own microcosm of a world. The film has a bit of a different flavor from the John Hughes films of that time, but it is still amusing, engaging, and interesting to watch.

The film was written and directed by Whit Stillman, and it is an impressive feature debut. It remains a charming, cultured comedy for those out there who would like to try something different from the usual holiday fare. The cast includes Carolyn Farina, Edward Clements, Chris Eigeman, Taylor Nichols, Allison Parisi, Dylan Hundley, Isabel Gillies, Ellia Thompson, Dylan Hundley, and Will Kempe.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Five

December 7, 2023April 24, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good morning. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter five of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. The holiday season continues, and we have yet to put up our tree. As my novelist is allergic to Christmas trees, we are required to have an imitation one. We keep it in a special tree bag and every year we take it out and put our ornaments on it. I do so wish we could have a real one. My novelist would like a real one as well, but alas that is not possible. The Maltese does not have an opinion on the matter which comes as a shock to none of us. One unfortunate joy of the holiday season is sipping a cup of hot cocoa. As I am a dog, chocolate in any form (except the occasional white chocolate) is a no-no. The fragrance of it though is intoxicating. I adore the way the little marshmallows bob on top like magical buoys. Or how gorgeous whip cream encircles it like the zenith of a mountain with a small candy cane inside and green and red sprinkes adorned the top. Oh, how my heart longs for hot chocolate! But that is another matter. For now, I wish you happy holidays and present chapter five of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant.

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Five

“We need to come up with something that’ll really catch him off-guard this time,” Lance said as the four accountants sat in the back corner of The Steamed Bean discussing their clandestine plan.

“I think he’s got to believe he won an even bigger contest than just a concert,” Irwin said. “Say, a trip to Hawaii or something like that.”

“No, no, no,” Grady said. “It must be colossal. We need to do something that will blow his mind.”

“What does he love more than anything else?” Makenna asked. “If we really want to get him this time you need to go after something he loves.”

“That’s a little sadistic, don’t you think? I mean I’m all for messing with the guy but going after something he loves? That’s nuts.”

“Didn’t he buy a dog last year or something?” Lance said.

“A dog?” Makenna said. “What kind of dog?”

“Some little pocket furball. The kind my sister would own.”

“That’s it. We’ll kidnap his dog.”

“Whoa,” Grady said. “That’s illegal.”

“So what?” Lance said. “It’ll be fun. It’s not like we’re going to get caught.”

“I don’t know,” Irwin said. “That sounds cruel. Even for us.”

“We need a way to break into his house,” Makenna said before sipping her red eye espresso.

“Do you think his place has cameras?” Lance asked.

“Of course, it has cameras. He’s a douche not an idiot.” Then she turned to Irwin and said, “Irwin, you have the best artistic sense. We need you to design the ransom note.”

“I’m flattered. I’ll do it. But I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Grady, we need you to take care of the dog.”

“I haven’t had a dog since I was a teenager. We had an Irish Wolfhound.”

“Curtis has a lap dog. It will be an easier experience than taking care of an Irish Wolfhound.”

“I don’t know,” Lance said. “My great aunt had a Maltese, and he was horrible. Always waking her up in the middle of the night wanting to go outside. Had this relentless bark. Couldn’t train it to stop barking on command.”

“You don’t think this little rug wolf is going to keep me up all night with its barking, do you?” Grady asked.

“I sincerely doubt it,” Makenna said. “It will probably just sit in your lap and fall asleep.”

“Do you have a dog?”

“I have an iguana.”

“Whoa. That’s cool.”

“Sometimes he does unspeakable things, but I usually forgive him.”

“Okay, I’ll watch the little furball. But I’m not going to break into Cook the Book’s house just to nab the little guy.”

“I’m the one who will be breaking in. I have experience.”

“I’m breaking in with you,” Lance said.

“Not a chance. You’ll bungle the job.”

“I won’t bungle the job.”

“When was the last time you broke in and robbed someone?”

“College. I broke into a professor’s office.”

“Really?” Irwin said.

“Really.”

“Fine,” Makenna said. “You can be my assistant. We’ll also need to grab the dog food Cook feeds the little puffball. We don’t want it to eat the wrong dog food. It could get sick.”

“Great,” Grady said. “That won’t be a monster sized problem or anything.”

“We’ll nab the dog food too,” Lance said. “So, when are we going to do this thing?”

“Soon,” Makenna said. “Before Tax Day if we really want to get under Cook’s collar.”

“How about Wednesday?”

“Agreed. We will do it on Wednesday. Irwin, get started on that ransom note tonight. Lance and I will break into Cook’s house at lunchtime. We’ll leave our phones at the office so there is no trace of us going there. Grady, give me a copy of your house key when we meet for coffee Wednesday morning before we head into the office. Then Lance and I can take the dog straight to your house and come back here at the end of lunch and no one will notice a thing.”

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: UPGRADE (2014)-HBO MAX**

This week’s movie is a science fiction story about artificial intelligence. And it starts out great. A few years in the future we meet Grey Chase (Logan Marshall-Green in a likeable performance) whose occupation is working on and restoring sports cars in his home garage, the kind of cars that still require a human driver. Grey is married to Asha Trace (Melanie Vallejo) who works for an AI tech company that makes self-driving cars amongst other things. One evening after Asha returns from work Grey needs to deliver one of his restored cars to a wealthy young man named Eron (Harrison Gilbertson). Grey asks Asha to accompany him and bring her self-driving car with her, so he has a ride home. When the couple arrives, which requires a long trek to get to the house, Ashe finds out Eron is Eron Keen, the peculiar but brilliant founder of one of her company’s competitors. Eron tells her in so many words her company is hardly his competitor, and he is working on a new product that will help enhance humankind and shows off his newest invention which looks a bit like a Hexbug.

The couple heads home in Asha’s self-driving car when the vehicle short circuits, takes the wrong route and crashes. Grey and Asha find themselves on the wrong side of town, with the wrong crowd “rescuing” them from their high-tech vehicle. A brutal incident occurs which ends up leaving Grey seriously injured. So injured, in fact, he may need Eron’s new product to become whole again.

The film is riveting and engaging. Logan Marshall-Green gives the film a wonderful sense of humor and I look forwards to more of his performances. The ending, though logical, falls a little short, which is sad because it is a terrific concept, well penned and on the precipice of greatness. I am not sure if the ending was writer/director Leigh Whannell’s original vision or if producers messed with it or what exactly happened. But the first three quarters of the film are smart, droll, clever, and well-paced which makes the movie well worth the watch.