There are no bad owners, only bad dogs


Mispeling words botherrs me alot.

Damn it, every time I have a plan for something, the something falls apart and I am left with a plan that has no use nor purpose. The Queen Bitch of the Universe is not coming to Texas after all, so I can't use her mouth as a spitoon, lock her in the basement of the Alamo, or beat her til my knuckles are bloody and my soul is quenched. Shit. Shitty McCrapperson.

I am taking tomorrow off and I am not going to work, not even a little bit. I am driving my monkey to his friend's house, then I am not driving myself to work. Nope. Take that, corporate America. You'll have to try to just get along without me for a day. You'll be sorry when I'm gone. Or you'll get a lot more done.

Which brings me to the fact that I forgot to put an important item on the list of things that bug me that are mostly just fine with everyone else: grammar, spelling, punctuation. If I see the words "a lot" combined into one word ("alot") one more time, I may hold my breath til I turn blue. And then, after that, every other error anyone ever makes related to grammar, spelling, and/or punctuation. I know. We're all human. We all make typing errors. I'm not saying it makes me a better person than... Oh, yeah. I am saying that. OK, I'm not saying it's rational. I'm saying that English teachers are born, not made.

Last night I had a dream that was so real and vivid and dull. In my dream, I was beginning a remodeling project that I have been talking about (but actually doing nothing about) for years. It was quite dull. Which made it realistic. Measuring, la di dah, planning, blah blah. Then, in an unexpected move, one of my teeth just fell out. It fell right out of my head (in the dream). Which turned my simple, quotidian dream into a NIGHTMARE because I frequently have nightmares in which my teeth either fall out or dissolve. Then, when this happens, I wake up I have to check all of my teeth to make sure it didn't really happen. Because if it does, I'll just live with it because dentists scare the crap out of me, and I'm on my way to becoming white trash anyway, so why not be toofless, too?

(Every so often, usually when I'm walking the dogs, I realize that I probably look totally white trash to my neighbors. The second I get home, some sort of stretchy shorts go on, the 'fro goes into a ponytail, I pour myself a coffee cup or a Solo cup of corn squeezin's, put on a t-shirt from Roswell, New Mexico, with a picture of an alien on it and the motto "Bad Antenna Day," and I get on with my evening. When I walk the dogs, I'm impressing my neighbors with my sartorial splendor and my class, plus I'm usually carrying a plastic grocery bag full of fresh, hot dog crap. I recently had a washing machine [albeit an Italian one] in my front yard. So toothless isn't really a stretch.)

So while you guys are all at work, goofing off on the Internet and getting paid for it, I'll be at home, goofing off on the Internet and burning up a vacation day. Who's the big loser now, eh? Oh. Yeah.

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birth & death