Tossing Salt Presents:
A Day of Dougie
Fresh Baked Cookies, Mr. Bubble, and A Special Place
DougMaynard.com
Doug Maynard

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning. Why do I like I should be putting on my cleanest dirty shirt and drinking a beer for breakfast? Oh, wait. That was a previous me from a previous life. Now, I’m sipping on a Dew Zero, watching the Straybies eat on the back porch.

Yeah, we have four cats, a mama, a mid-sized youngster, and two little ones, who enjoy our fine dining services daily. Yeah, the little moochers are showing up, demanding food, and are too damn cute to ignore. The middle cat, a black & white Tuxedo I’ve named Fuego, has been coming around for several months, and the others followed later. I can’t pet them, but they won’t run from me either, and has attacked my wiggling fingers a few times. I’m wearing him down, and he’s almost comfortable with me. He knows I’m Mouthie’s human, so he has to watch himself, but we’re almost there.

And where am I going with this? Oh yeah, I managed to pet him this morning. Just a couple of strokes with the back of my hand, but it’s a start. Before all is said and done, he’ll be in the house, walking across my keyboard, and beating up on the dog, demanding attention. Baby steps.

Speaking of baby steps, I actually left the house last night. For the first time in nearly four weeks that wasn’t a doctor appointment, I went out, got into my truck, and left the house. I only circled through town once and came home, but it’s a start. I had made plans yesterday to go by the ABC Store and socialize/gossip, and inquire about Crown Royal Chocolate, but I took a nap instead. And when I woke up, it was late in the day, and the store would’ve been too busy to properly chit-chat. So, that’s my agenda and plans for tomorrow, Monday. And if the ABC has it, it’s a motel room and a bottle later this upcoming week. Maybe a Stoney Crew reunion, too? Nah, let’s not get all crazy. But maybe a reunion with a very special man whom I care for very much. Probably not, but we’ll see.

Okay, enough of the dialogue and opening chatter. Why are we here? It’s a Day of Dougie. That means three random topics of discussion. But before I go to the Magic Bag and withdraw those random topics, I want to quickly address a few things.

Charlie Kirk was a good, intelligent, and very insightful person. He was murdered. And regardless of whether you agreed with him or not, no one deserves to die that way. And if you’re happy, celebrating, rejoicing, or just making excuses that “He said this”, or “But he said”, whatever, if you’re that person, you’re a piece of shit! And I have three expressions for you regarding your readership or support for my site. In the words of Mr.James E. Cornette, “Thank you! Fuck you! Goodbye!”

And also, WWE taking WrestleMania to Saudi Arabia? That sucks!

And now, back to our regularly scheduled program. The Magic Bag and three topics of discussion. I have the bag, and the three topics for conversation today, that I will do a Ted Talk and write about with no prior knowledge, warning, or preparation, are Fresh Baked Cookies, Mr. Bubble, and A Special Place. Hopefully, this won’t suck. Let’s do this.

Fresh Baked Cookies

I can’t remember the last time I actually had real, homemade, freshly baked cookies. Generally, I’ll buy the cheap-ass store brands and make do with them. But believe it or not, I used to bake cookies quite regularly. I’ve always enjoyed cooking, and the smell of cookies in the oven is pretty nice. I would usually stick to the simple ones, like Peanut Butter cookies, or the Cake Mix cookies, but every so often, mainly around the holidays, I’d go crazy and make, from scratch, the chocolate chip or the Oatmeal Raisin cookies. Good times and good damn cookies. It’s been a while, and I know my diabetes would protest, but I should maybe do it again, just for the hell of it. It’s something to think about.

Mr. Bubble

I remember this from my childhood. The pink box, and those commercials with the happy children in the bathtub, surrounded by soap suds and smiling parents. Bath time was the happy time if you had Mr. Bubble. And I remember reality. The product was like laundry detergent, flaky and itchy to the skin. And the soap suds? It was like the cheap dish soap from the Dollar Store, where it takes half a bottle for a strange film to appear, with maybe a handful of bubbles at best. It was nothing like the commercials. But we loved it anyhow, forced our parents to buy it, and what annoying rash? That was just our imaginations, right? Yeah, it wasn’t quite what it was supposed to be. Not even close. But in the ’60s and ’70s, it wasn’t a bathtime without the Mr. Bubble. It gets you so clean, your mother won’t know you. That sounds more like Alzheimer’s to me, but it’s in the commercial. Check it out.

A Special Place

Everyone has one. A special place where you can go and just be free, be relaxed, be at ease as the world fades away, and you can see things clearly, with no distractions or interruptions. I’ve had a few over the years. Down by the creek where Eric and I would go to just sit, in silence, and snuggle. That spot on the path where I would light a fire, sit on a Cinder block, and drink a beer so many times. My bed. Whatever works for you, don’t knock it. If you have a place where you can find yourself, think freely, and be at ease, cherish it. It’s one of the best things in the world.

And there you go. Thanks for reading, and thanks for the continued support. Questions, comments, thoughts, and suggestions for topics to add to the Magic Bag are all welcome and appreciated. And I guess that’s all for now. I’ll be back later with an edition of the Ultimate Wrestling Q&A, and possibly The Ultimate X Q&A. Those questions are piling up, and I need to tackle a few of them at some point to get the pile down. Damn those YouTube videos that keep distracting me. Anyhow, never forget who loves you, baby. Stay good, and I’ll catch you on the flip side.

Ubuntu!