After some serious QT with my television set last night, I have decided: who cares about dogs? Not me. My dog? Frankly, after over a year++, he is still not earning his keep. I ask him to fold one load of laundry while we're gone during the day. Or sweep the kitchen. This is not rocket science. Instead, he just flops around the couch watching his stories and taking an occasional TV break to munch on some antiques. Ass.
My new obsession is "Growing Up Walrus." Holy freaking crap, walruses! Giant skinbags who's faces resemble John Bolton, or my dad-in-law! They do tricks! I LOVE YOU WALRUSES. You are making me roll over and die of cuteness. I totally need me a walrus.
Almost as cute as walruses: K's niece, so enamored of meerkats that she dressed up like one for Halloween. Sure, sure. You've got your standard-issue princesses, a punk-rocker or two, maybe a hippy. But a 9-year old after my own heart is the one who makes a statement: do not be lame, embrace yr inner meerkat.