I’m writing a love letter to my dog because I can’t spend all day fucking around with my blog.
I did that yesterday and got exactly no love for my efforts, and I honestly thought I was being funny. I mean, what could be funnier than an extended navel gazing at my drunk deep thoughts?
So screw it, I’m gonna tell my dog how much I love him, not that he keeps up with my blog or anything.
Only you make it your life’s work to never do anything wrong, never to displease me or raise my ire. Only you feel true shame when you accidentally poop all over my son’s bed or do anything remotely wrong. Only you are as apologetic for your existence as I am, which makes us kindred spirits.
I love your flappy lips. I love that you can burp the alphabet. I love your muscular neck. I love it that you just want to the be the best dog you can be.
Moving right along. If you want to listen to something that illustrates the power of positive thinking, take some time to listen to this episode of This American Life. The whole show is great but it is Act 2 that really moved me, My Ames Is True. It’s a beautiful story about real-life angels and choosing happiness no matter what the circumstances.
Listen to it while you are walking your dog, like I do.
That’s all I’ve got today. Except for this load of crap.