The Dog’s Dinner
The Bear and I inherited a grand-dog — 12 pounds of a manipulating mutt — and now it seems we can’t go to dinner without her.
PC culture is the ultimate bullshit. When I can’t think of a category, shit goes here.
The Bear and I inherited a grand-dog — 12 pounds of a manipulating mutt — and now it seems we can’t go to dinner without her.
Despite dropping rates of violent crime, Americans are ever more paranoid.
The news keeps telling us about murders, home invasions and car jackings… So people adopt this mental defensive crouch like we are Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon. But actual crime rates have been dropping since the 1960’s.
I always thought “comfort animals” were bullshit –until I saw one last week in San Francisco.
Going through airport security is stressful enough, but the lady in front of me was losing her shit.
It started with Body Shaming by Kate, then her husband Andy and her friend What’s Her Name shamed my face. What could be fucking be left to make fun of?
My skin.
I have a lot of political opinions, but I don’t do much about them. I vote. But I don’t protest, I don’t donate to political causes very often, I don’t volunteer.
I’m suspicious of all groups. I’m not “a joiner”, and I really kinda hate people. But I finally found a political movement I can get behind: Free the Nipple.
We all have our little addictions. Some good, some not so good. For the past decade, I’ve been hooked on the crack.
Bernie, AOC and some of the new flaming liberals have a long list of shit they want to change. I’m with them on most of it, but not one — free college.
Fuck Free College. We don’t want a repeat of senior year in high school with bored kids hanging out in the classroom to avoid the working week.
Most of us spend way too much time worrying about it, But at it’s root, money is bullshit.
One of the fucked-up things about playing recreational tennis is away matches.
You have to drive to some other part of town and play on strange courts. And worse, we can’t just walk to the Third World bar to enjoy some popcorn and beer with the resident mice — we are forced to pick a different bar.
Waiting for my slot to get my knee surgery, the surgeon was killing time and hung out at my bedside for a while.
Saturday morning there were 3 cookies left — the Savage chocolate chip cookies with just the right amount of crack.
“Those are for you and your brother,” the Bear said. “You figure out how to share them.”
If another adult “disciplines” your kid, the right response is embarassment — you are raising a little fucker who did something wrong. Just apologize and then shut your mouth.
Utah, home of the insane 3.2 beer laws, and massive Mormon families has the best law I have heard about this decade. “Free-range children.”
I know it probably won’t work, but I’m signing up for surgery.
I’ve combined advil and tylenol. I’ve done the physical therapy, the braces and the weird shots of sugar and bacteria — or spun out particles of my own blood.
Left knee got better. Right knee got worse.
The Bear and I went to get our passports renewed. His nametag said Bob. Bob was efficient, thorough and a mother fucking racist.
By Pam R.
Pieces of life and the love of family mixed with the passion to ride
Los Angeles Freelance Writer • Comedian • Photographer •
Comedy essays and articles
Like Mother Teresa, only better.
Riding the South Coast of Massachusetts and Rhode Island
cycling less than i plan
Author of suspense novels Sketch, Justice For Belle, Search For Maylee, Aggravated Momentum, and a medley of short stories.
"Nothing that happens to a writer -- however happy, however tragic -- is ever wasted." ~ P.D. James
notes of the desperate man
The Dude Abides. I'm A Dude AbiKes. I wonder as I wander around Austin on a bicycle.
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