Archive for May, 2009


Wednesday, May 20th, 2009

There are two main controls on my motorscooter–the throttle and the brake. I twist the trottle with my right hand to go faster, and squeeze the brake levers to stop. It’s really simple. Except when I’m on Hill Street. 

Hill Street goes up and up with a stop sign just before the top. Sometimes, I climb the hill kind of slow and there are people behind me. Then, I come to the stop sign and let go of the throttle and grab my brakes. 

Now it gets hard. I have to let go of the brakes. But when I do, my motorscoooter starts to roll backwards–towards the car behind me. I don’t want to hit the car, so I grab the throttle and give it a good twist. My scooter has a strong engine so I go shooting over the top of the hill, through the intersection, and over a big pothole in the middle. 

Here is a picture of me bouncing off the pothole. I look startled because I am. I think all the other drivers looked a little startled, too. 

Kevin Bounce

At the top of Hill Street is Center Bank. This is where I cash my checks from the Supermarket. That’s what I did today.

I had parked it next to the curb, and when i came out of Center Bank there was something waiting for me. 



Dog: Whuf.
Me: Ummm. Hello?
Dog: Whuf.
Me: What are you doing here?
Dog: Whuf.
Me: Who put you here?
Dog: Whuf.
Me: What’s your name?
Dog: Whuf.

He was small and skinny and kept letting out a low, horsey, bark. 

Dog: Whuf!

I think sombody tied him to my mudgard and abandoned him. That kind of makes me mad. He looked like a very nice dog. 

Me: What am I going to do with you?
Dog: Whuf! Whuf! Whuf!

Riding a motorscooter with a dog isn’t easy. I had to steer and work the trottle and brake with one hand, and hold the dog with the other. I had to turn my face away from the road, too, because he would lick me on the mouth. 

Me: Yuck!
Dog: Whuf!
Me: Oh no, there’s somebody behind me.

Kevin Pulled Over

I knew this police officer from my visits to the courthouse. His name is Mort, and he likes to say the same thing over and over.

Mort: May I see your license please?
Me: Ok. But I’m sorry officer, I didn’t know it was illegal to carry a dog on a motorscooter.
Mort: May I see your registration please?
Me: Ok. But, I wasn’t going to carry him very far. I just need to get him to our house.
Mort: May I see your proof of insurance please?
Dog: Whuf!
Me: Shhh!
Mort: One of your tail lights is out. You should get that fixed. Goodbye.

Kevin and Mort

As soon as I got home I fed the dog some leftover Kentucky Fried Chicken. He was hungry. What do you think I should call him?

Dog Eating Chicken



The Sutures

Wednesday, May 6th, 2009

The Bakers live next door. They have a son named Bebo. Mr. and Mrs. Baker work a lot. I think Bebo is trying to get their attention by starting a band in the garage.

Here is a picture of Bebo and his friends. That’s Bebo on the right.

The Sutures

Bebo: Ok, guys. We need a name for the band.
Hash: Something random. So people think we don’t like the status-quo.
B-Sting: And rebellious. So our parents will think we are heading down the wrong path.
Beeter: And loud so they think we are sustaining premature hearing loss.
Bebo: How about “The Sutures?”

Bebo and his friends have been spending a lot of time in the garage with their instruments. Bebo and Hash both play guitar. That’s Hash on the right.

Bebo and Hash

Hash: It doesn’t look like we are having much success with your parents. All your dad does when he gets home is read engineering manuals, and your mom looks at medical journals.
Bebo: Yeah, they don’t seem to hear our music even though we are playing it at a dangerously high decibel level. But, I’m sure that if they did hear it, they would start to get worried about us and take our instruments away.
Hash: Or do other things to correct our wayward path. I think we need to try something new.
Bebo: What about this? It’s a book of sheet music I found at the library.
Hash: Prelude Number 2 by Johann Sebastian Bach. Hmmm. It doesn’t sound very rebellious.