Archive for July, 2013
July 31st, 2013 Posted 8:22 am
“Last day of the month already?” says Spence. “How do you slow this thing down?”
“You’d have to invent the opposite of the Big Bang,” Admin says. “But the point is it’s the last day of eligibility for August’s Friend of the Month.”
“At the right of the screen you’ll see Sassy. Sassy’s Chet’s July Friend of the Month. Sassy’s human companion sent in a photo to the Friends of Chet gallery. The random number generator – “
“East German Army surplus, circa 1956 – “
” – does the rest. Winner stays over there for the month and the winner’s human companion gets a signed and paw-printed – “
“– and a personalized very special hi there from Anthony Weiner.”
” – copy of the latest Chet and Bernie novel, in this case A Fistful of Collars.”
“This could be you! Just send in a photo!”
*All 100% true, except for the Anthony Weiner part.
Random # generator:
July 30th, 2013 Posted 9:45 am
It’s here, along with a nice review of Dog On It:
Welcome Dexter, Buster, Hannah Banana, Bailey.
July 29th, 2013 Posted 8:21 am
“You can’t beat a Chet and Bernie mystery for a good read. Probably starting off, you should be
a dog lover. You’ll find yourself chuckling a good deal of the time at Chet’s commentary on what’s happening.
Aside from the humor and fun of the whole romp, Spencer Quinn comes up with creative and
very good mysteries that keep you wondering “who did it?” Good for getting you out of a funk and
making you laugh and feel better. I hear the series will be made into movies which is a good thing.”
– Barbara Russell on Thereby Hangs A Tail.
(“Care to comment on the movie reference?” Spence says.
“Not at this point in time,” says Admin.
“Point in time,” says Spence. “Somewhat Nixonian.”
“He’s making a comeback.”)
July 28th, 2013 Posted 8:20 am
“Chet! What’s all the fuss?”
Bernie was up? I hadn’t even heard him. That was bad. I slid down off the window real fast and smooth, like I’d never been up there at all. Bernie came over and gazed out, giving me a pat at the same time. His hair was standing out in clumps here and there; one eyebrow was crooked; he wore what Leda had always called his ratty robe, although there wasn’t a single rat on it, just a pattern of martini glasses with long-legged women sitting in them. In short, he looked great. – from The Dog Who Knew Too Much