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Sunday, March 21, 2004

Whining My Life Away

I didn’t mean to frighten loyal readers of this page with yesterday’s completely irony-free essay on the joys of near dog ownership. As I said, dogs bring out the best in people but now the puppy is gone and I can go back to being my usual crotchety self. I can go back to complaining about things like the guy somewhere in my building who is learning the guitar. From what I can tell he is playing the world’s first three month guitar solo of Freebird using only four notes—not four chords but four notes. I thought people my age were supposed to start losing their hearing? I should be so lucky.

Then there is the really big guy I call “The Three Tenors” who is always at the coffee shop talking on his cell phone in a loud voice that is only really appropriate for football coaches screaming in plays from the sidelines. I wish that guy would shut his cake hole or I guess I should say scone hole since this is Seattle.

I realize this is Sunday and I should lay off but if there is a God why did he make donuts taste so good? Why are French fries with mayonnaise the best thing in the world? Why doesn’t he just make rat poison taste good so we can make our demise nice and quick? Let's just get it over with. Do you think rat poison tastes good? What about with mayonnaise? On the other hand, have you ever actually tasted tofu? It tastes like absolute crap even if you deep fry it and serve it with mayonnaise or with sugar glaze and yet it’s supposed to be good for you. That’s just being cruel. Who would do that?

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