Monday, August 11, 2003

Rain!

Smelly puppy needs a bath. And a breath mint wouldn't kill her, either.

She came up and pushed her giant nose in my face, and I recoiled as if struck with a large, blunt object.

As I am a lisenced Breatherinarien ( A doctor who specilizes in the dramatic and rewarding field of stinky mouths) I can undoubtedly pronounce her a sufferer of Old Grandpa Breath.

Tragic, really.

As I am sickly, or, perhaps, just lazy and milking the last twilight days before summer dies, I have spent the entirety of my day gracefully reclined while watching Buffy and eating a Turkey Sandwhich.

Unfortunately, it is fast approaching 5:00 and, as I am still in my Red Bowtie Pajamas, I feel it is time to dash to nearest phone booth and turn into Shower Girl, ready to save the world from all that is evil and soapy.