There is a toddler child in my office right now. It's making all sorts of toddler child noises which is, of course, making my skin crawl. It's talking like mad while it's mother is trying to have an adult conversation. She's pretty much ignoring it but I am having a much harder time doing so. I'm visualizing her giving it a quick punch and/or kick. Now it's running AND talking. It's insisting it must continue to run and gab but it just doesn't. It must stop before I go and trip it. I'm almost hoping it will make it's way to my cubicle so I can do away with it. Maybe if I tie some delivious and brightly colored candy up with string...then I can lure it over here. In all actuality, it's better off staying far away from me. I'm not in the mood to feign amusement over obnoxious toddler antics. Skin crawling!!!
Going out to chow with the family which is an unexpected treat. And we're going somewhere expensive which always makes the food taste just that much better. Call it food snobbery if you must but you know it's true. I plan on eating something that was once alive but has since been killed in a heinous manor (jack hammer, hack saw, death by "sleepy time" music) and then hung out in it's own natural juices waiting for me. That sounds just about as close to Heaven as I can get today. Swallowing dead animals without stopping to chew. Just like a common thug. I love meat. And I love the phrase "licking my chops".
I had a dream that Bill and I got a bull terrier last night. We lived together in this big house that looked exactly like the Ol' Kentucky Corral on the inside but had this looooooong back yard that had a weird staircase that led to more yard and patios and trees. Bizarre architecture and landscaping haunts my dreams. Anyway...I wanted to take our puppy out in the grass for the first time and wanted Bill to be there but I couldn't find him. Then I found all these people drinking beer on our weird second yard level patio and he was there, all zipped up on a sleeping bag, drinking beer. Pete Yorko's girlfriend, my nephew, and some weird middle eastern chicks we worked with (we don't work with any weird middle eastern girls) were there. The puppy had no name...and no interest in the grass. It was interested in going out of the gate (who leaves a gate open with a new puppy running about???) and sitting in it's water bowl.
I need a bull terrier puppy.
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