No, this is NOT the Beaver Lodge Tape. This is something I found in my files while looking for the Beaver Lodge Tape. If you are waiting breathlessly for the BLT it WILL be coming--just hold onto your hats for a bit.
In the meantime....
For those interested in the lavish and exciting lifestyle Mojo leads, I offer you this glimpse into just how thrilling Mojo's life in the sticks can be, especially if you are snowbound, and have nothing to keep you company during the day except a video camera, a tripod, and a dog totally obsessed with his Squeaky Ball. I made this little film a few years ago, at first just to document the strange case of George and Squeaky Ball, but as we shot a plot spontaneously developed and it all transmogrified into "Squeaky Ball, the Movie".
This was taped about five or six years ago, back when George was alive and still in fairly good shape. If this small clip is not enough and you are interested in the full ten minutes of Squeaky Ball (like I said, there is a plot, Oscar-caliber performances and everything!) you can buy it here at Mojo's Lulu store. It's a big file (24 MB) so it's probably not for dialups. It's only three bucks for ten minutes of pure Squeaky Ball hell. Be grateful it's only ten minutes. I have outtakes of that stupid dog squeaking his stupid ball for twenty and thirty minutes straight. I am not kidding. If people misbehave I will post them here and punish EVERYONE.
I will tell you the story of Squeaky Ball. George liked to play with sticks and very large rocks. He would try to get his mouth around rocks as big as his head and carry them around. He also liked to roll them down hillsides, which was sometimes dangerous when you are trying to climb said hill and he has run up ahead of you.
But aside from rocks, he wasn't much into dog toys. Until one day my inlaws gave him a round green nubbly squeaky ball. The squeak really frightened him, as did the blast of air that came out of it. We thought that was very funny, so we cruelly tortured him by squeaking the scary squeaky ball at him.
Within a day or two George had learned to squeak the ball himself. He got over his fear and would sit for hours, squeaking this stupid ball. Eeeka, eeeka, eeeka, eeeka, eeka. I thought kind benevolent thoughts about my inlaws. But eventually the ball came apart and stopped squeaking. And eventually it was reduced to this limp little scrap of green rubber that George still brought everywhere he went. When we moved to our new house we had a Dumpster at the old house and my Favorite Husband threw the original Squeaky Ball away when George's back was turned.
We assumed with the confusion of living between two houses George would soon forget about Squeaky Ball, but he did not. Every time we went over to the old house he would search and search for it. I felt bad. In a moment of weakness I will always regret, I stopped at a pet store and bought a similar Squeaky Ball--not a round green nubbly one, but a brown nubbly football--the one you see in the film.
I was housesitting for my parents at the time and decided to present the ball to him there after I was done watering the plants and bringing in the papers. It was just a spontaneous I'm-in-the-neighborhood-so-what-the-hey visit while I was out running errands. I was only going to stop there for a second, but I couldn't wait to get home to show the new ball to George. So I made a big presentation and got him all hyped up and "Tah-dah!"--presented him with the new Squeaky Ball.
He ignored it.
I was determined to make the stupid dog play with his new ball, so I got on my knees on the carpet and started wheedling at him to get the ball.
He ignored me.
Finally I gave up, and reached forward to pick up the scorned ball.
Turns out that's what he was waiting for. As I moved forward, he dashed in like a lightning bolt and grabbed the ball before I could touch it. It's a game he dearly loved to play. Only this time he moved so fast our heads collided with an interesting cracked cocoanut sound.
Being a dog with a concrete skull, George wasn't even aware we had hit. But me, I literally saw stars. I grabbed my head and curled up in a fetal position on the rug and moaned various expletives and tried desperately not to pass out. All I could think of was, nobody knew I was here, my parents weren't coming home for a week, and they were going to come home and find their daughter dead on their carpet.
The whole time I lay there in agonizing pain George stood protectively over me with the new Squeaky Ball in his mouth, squeaking it. Eeeka, eeeka, eeeka, eeeka, eeka. After about ten minutes I was able to get up, wipe the tears away and resume my life. George kept Squeaky Ball at his side from that moment on.
And that, my friends, was my introduction to this particular Squeaky Ball. I should have known better. I should have taken it away from him and immediately returned it to the store. But I think I was suffering from some sort of brain damage, and I let him keep it.
For the record, the soundtrack of this thing is totally ambient sound. No overdubs or anything. Yes, it was indeed very annoying to live with. People see it and they're like, "Awww--isn't that cute." Yes. It is cute for five minutes. Then it becomes progressively less cute. Like I said, be grateful the entire movie is only ten minutes long, should you choose to sit through it.
If you are too cheap for the three bucks, or if you just want to see what you're getting for your whopping three bucks before you spend it, here's a very small poor quality Real Media version of the whole thing (2.5 MB).
George has been dead for over a year, now. Do I miss that stupid incessant Squeaky Ball? Well...............yeah.