The Long and Short of It

Me. They were out of Snickers bars.

I would have posted this on time, but they do not let dogs into Panera Bread which is where the Boss takes the laptop, so I had to hitch a ride to the library where they think I am a dwarf, so I could take care of some busimess and pause to wish you-know-who a belated 7 and 4/7 (53 divided by 7) birthday.

She has been crabby lately, which is her sign anyway, so I guess we shouldn't be surprised. Crab, crab, crab. "Do you want to go for a ride in the car or not?" "Arthur, get over here. Stop eating the cat food." "Come on, dammit. I'm in a hurry."

Personally I think she should go on a long vacation with me along, of course. I want a bigger car, though. No Clarence or his stupid cat carrier. A/C on full blast. She won't buy a new car, though. She is too cheap.

I suppose I could link to her pathetic little blog as a birthday present. Send some traffic her way. I will have to think about it.