Written By: Matthew Sprosty
When asked to be a blog writer for Odd Dog Coffee, the owner, roaster, and (well, you know) all around entrepreneur was pretty clear on what he wanted from my pieces: “Stories about Dogs and stories about Coffee.” I turned around and asked the man, “What about Stories about Odd?” To which, he found the question odd, because I phrased it odd, and then I think we both wondered that if I was such a numbskull with my way with words, should I even be the Odd Dog Coffee blog writer at all?
By: Matthew Sprosty
Have we discussed the rules to reading this blog?
There’s really only one— you must have a warm (or ice cold) cup of coffee (preferably Odd Dog brand) somewhere within arm’s length. That’s it. That’s all folks. Much like Romance Novels must only be consumed with red wine and a crackling fire, the Odd Dog Blog (which, I just noticed, rhymes) can only be appreciated with the sweet, delicious coffee berry-derived liquid slapping at your tongue, warming (or cooling) your throat, filling your stomach, and revving your engine for the day.
You ever look at the logo for Odd Dog coffee? By now, if you’re drinking it, and you’re reading this blog, you have probably ordered yourself a bag and gotten your free sticker.
The logo of Odd Dog Coffee, a yellow silhouette of a Jack Russell Terrier named Cody. He is one of the owners oldest and most loyal friends (I imagine.) I share the love of Jack Russell Terriers with Mr. Hancock, as I, too, fell in love with one, a puppy that I purchased from a farm in Southern Ohio back in 2003 when I was in college.
As a cinephile, I fell in love with Jack Russells as their proclivity for training had them as a popular option to be on film and television sets. From Milo in The Mask, Gene Hackman’s dog in Crimson Tide, Jack from The Artist, and most notably
Written By: Matthew Sprosty
I’m actually writing this as I drink my first ever cup of Odd Dog Coffee. The package came in the mail a couple of days ago, which was two days after I ordered it, and the first thing I noticed was the smell. Dear God, that delicious smell of real, roasted coffee. Not the smell you get when you tear some weird piece of plastic from a rubber can of processed beans that are who-knows-how-old, but the smell
I still remember the first time I saw the trailer for Se7en. It was summer vacation, 1995. I was immediately intrigued. Maybe it was because of Morgan Freeman who was coming off Shawshank, and I was hopeful for something of equal quality. Maybe it was the left turn young Bradley Pitt was taking, steering his boat away from “The Sexiest Man Alive” moniker and into some dark territory. Maybe it was the despairing tone the trailer promised. Or maybe I’m just sick in the head and against all reason, attracted to sick things. Probably the latter.
“How's this for culture?”
On Friday nights,
The Man in the Hat and the Man who Used to Make Him.
A blog post by Dewey O'Neil
Senior Odd Dog Blog Writer
“The man is…nefarious.”
I feel infantile sometimes admitting that Dr. Henry “Indiana” Jones Jr. was the first person I wanted to be since (1) he’s fictional and (2) the majority of my peers award their fathers with such an honor. To that point, I would concede the following: my father has done far more than Dr. Jones to assist and support me, but when I was six, I didn’t want to be the guy in the suit with the briefcase - I wanted to be the man in the hat with the whip.
Nonetheless, my Dad