They shouldn’t have settled for just one year.

Every four years Jill Stein emerges from her burrow. If she sees her shadow, it will be four more years of fascism.

If the MRI is on fire, LET THE MOTHERFUCKER BURN!

I do that with our guinea pigs.

They get a cookie* every day at 5:00 pm when I get finished with work. After 5:00, whether l come in the back door or just come downstairs from my office, they start wheaking and chewing on the bars of their pen (which they think encourages us to give them food for some reason).

Sometimes, after I’ve given them their cookie, I’ll go back up to my office. When I come back, they start acting like they didn’t get the cookie.

I just walk up to them and tell them that they already got it and they aren’t getting another. They stare at me for a moment, then just go back about their business.

I don’t think they actually forget they they got it. I think they just hope I might have forgotten. But it is interesting that all they need me to do is tell them they got it already and they give up.

* The cookie is a vitamin C supplement made of pressed hay with molasses as a binder. The molasses is why they lose their minds over them.

I don’t. Just carry it home. Why are people so damn irresponsible?

If you don’t want to carry the poop to your own trash, either don’t have a dog, or let it shit in your yard.

Ah.

If it’s the night before collection, no one would notice or care. People who do that are not the people anyone complains about.

What happens is people dump their plastic bag of dog poop in the empty can. So it stays there.

Next pickup the resident’s trash bags go on top of it. The trash men never manage to get the poop bag out. After a couple weeks of hoping it will disappear next time, the person whose can it is has to dump it out and put it in a bag with their trash.

People who dump their dog’s poop bag in other people’s cans should be force fed the bag.

I took Tuesday and Wednesday off.

Aside from voting, I have some other things to do on Tuesday.

Wednesday is reserved for just sitting and staring. Perhaps some rocking back and forth and curling up in the fetal position. I’ll see how it goes.

My father-in-law had a brother who looked just like him. His brother was, of course, at his funeral.

My young daughtern did not know that grampop had a brother who looked like him.

She told us afterwards that she was freaked out by this at his funeral.

We often only get a couple trick-or-treaters every year, and this year was no different, except we left the front door open all night, which means we heard and saw kids walking past our house.

I’m one of the few groups that came to our porch, I heard one girl whisper to her friends, “that’s the creepy house”

So, I guess our house is the haunted house of the neighborhood. I’d be ok with that if we actually had any ghosts.

We’ve been here for over 140 years, and I’ve never seen a single ghost.