Is milk bad for dogs? I ask because Edsel just put his annoying front feet up here and drank my soy milk from my Cheerio bowl. Also, are turkey burgers bad for dogs? Because...my lunch yesterday while my back was turned.
Hate.
These dogs are trained. TRAINED! I once told Ned that I loved watching The Dog Whisperer, back when I had TV (have I told you I haven't had TV since September?) and this gave Ned pause. Not the TV part. He's known about and is annoyed by that ("Let's just GO RIGHT NOW and get you a new remote control!" But that sounds boring so we never do it.).
"You...watch that show? With the dog trainer guy?" he asked.
"Yes. I've read all his books, too."
"...hunh."
"WHAT???"
"It's just. Wow. Because those dogs sure seem WHISPERED TO. That's for sure."
Whatever with Ned. Who, by the way, comes home tonight, but at 1 in the effing morning and why is it he NEVER gets home from these trips till the middle of the night and why is it he has to GO on them in the first place? Are my needs being met? I think not.
Try not to get jealous, but Ned's been in KANSAS all week, which, carry on my wayward son. In the meantime, the statistics textbook place asked me to do another book and I said no. I mean, it's two weeks till Christmas! Whooooo are they gonna get who has time right now? I guess some pagan proofer. But for all I know pagans do a lot of celebrating this time of year, too.
Is anyone reading me a pagan? I'd like to know about it.
Also, note Ned skips town and jets about Kansas on his private place the ONE WEEK I am without freelance work at night. Please see above re my needs. Irritating.
Which reminds me. Ned texted me from said private plane just the other night, and told me he was in the cockpit, and I may have made a reference to JFK Jr., and then I said, "You're such a globe-trotting jetstter. You're like Ross Perot."
Okay. How sad is it that's the best example of jetsetter I could come up with? Then I got kind of obsessed with thinking of a better example. Somehow my boss and I got caught up in it yesterday. Aristotle Onassis? No, he's more of a yacht-setter. My boss said Eva Gabor, which, really? Reality called.
Dick Whitman said Hugh Hefner, but where does HE ever go? He just hangs around the house in his jams all day with many many inappropriately aged women.
Rhianna? She's always off on some beach somewhere. But that's a sad not really classic example.
Anyway, that's what's on my mind now, which means as usual everything is deep, over here.
I'd better go and get dressed and, you know, go to work. Someone put a bag of cheese puffs from the healthy vending machine on my desk when I got there yesterday and I never found out who. It's kind of exciting. It's like I have a little healthy elf or something. Oh, and tonight I get some of Faithful Reader Tee's crock put candy, as FR Laurie is making some.
I hope Edsel likes it.
("JOOOOONNE! CHOCOLATE IS POISON FOR DOGGGS!") (sighhh.)
P.S. I just got to work, and someone has put a brand-new Sticky Stretchy Giant Snap Hand on my desk! I DO have an elf! A sticky stretchy elf! Which is the best kind.
