There are no bad owners, only bad dogs


Dust bunnies

Today might be a bad day. I come to this conclusion based on the fact that I got out of the shower this morning and couldn't find any clean underwears. I am not the kind of person who goes commando, nor am I a "wear them twice" kind of individual. Eventually I found some under the bed where the cats had been playing with them. So I may have a dust bunny or two in my "bikini area." Then I brushed my hair and thought, "Hey, that's not my hair." It turns out that it really WAS my hair, it just still had the conditioner in it. Fab-u-lous.

A co-"worker" (ahem) just emailed me this ridiculous Paul Harvey diatribe about how Hillary Clinton and Al Gore sympathize with murderers because those murderers are/were Black Panthers. Sweet mother of mystery. I certainly consider Paul Harvey an authoritative source. (Irony)

At the meeting I slept in in Dallas, one of the CEO types' phone rang. His ringer played "Sweet Home Alabama." I was the only person who guffawed at this, making me look mildly retarded.

I have a theory, or maybe it's more of a postulate, about how, especially in a "relationship," when you take your significant other to your very favorite restaurant, if that person doesn't like it as much as you do, that is a bit of an insult to you. You have clearly offered something wonderful and amazing to this person because you care about him/her and want him/her to be pleased and happy, and when s/he says "Eh" in response to this fabulous offering, it is similar to saying "You like things that suck." Apparently this postulate makes me insane.

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