Lesson 1: When someone offers you unsolicited advice, smile quizzically as if you don't understand. If they repeat themselves, punch them in the throat. Now, don't you feel better.

Lesson 2: When someone asks you if you're the type of person who thinks the glass is half empty or half full, ask them, "Full of what?"

Lesson 3: Instead of wasting your money on a big-screen TV, buy several small-screen TVs. That way, when you throw a brick through one, you'll have a back-up.

Lesson 4: Something bumming you out? Just put "awesome" in the name. For example: "I have third stage lung awesome, and I'm probably gonna die."

Lesson 5: If you do have a terminal disease, just respond to every question with "fuck you." Unless it's meal time. Then respond, "fuck you and I'll have a roast beef sandwich, extra gravy."

...more to follow.

Hoping for pay and un-stuck-ness tomorrow.

Thought for the day...

Realized that nearly every pivotal moment in my life was governed by sheer luck. Not sure if that's comforting or disquieting.

Distracting myself with cute photos of the dog...and her pals.

Look, this whole ruffling of feathers every time someone rich, famous, or powerful reveals an extra-marital affair is just silly. People in power, people with fame, people with bazillions of dollars...they get offered ass all the time. Most partake. Some do not. It goes back to Roman times, or earlier.

Really the only shock is that it still shocks us. Americans have this silly double-standard. We praise the "extreme" in every level of entertainment, elevate certain members of our society to the level of warrior princes, and then expect them to keep to a Calvinist moral standard when it comes to sex.  My only gripe is that women celebrities should have as many boy toys as men celebs have girl toys. Or girl-girl, boy-boy. Whatever. It doesn't really matter. The whole role model thing is complete bullshit. This sanitized, Rockwellian horse manure about celebrities being these mannequins, these castratos, in their personal lives. 

Athletes, politician, rock stars. They don't often turn out to be faithful spouses. Get over it. If you marry one, just expect that they're gonna get offered more sex than, say, a gladiator. And that one time or another, they'll stray.

Or, as a female  friend of mine said today... "So, Tiger likes pussy. Can we move on now?"

Someday, she'll look back on this photo and smile.

Not sure the name Canny is gonna stick. She was called "Cannon," which really doesn't fit her at all. Tori, in her princess-fixated mode, suggested Belle. I like Belle. She's a girly girl. We even got her a pink collar. Tori just called her Pinky. So now there's another name in the running.

So, here she is... get a load of them ears...

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Hope all had a safe and joyous Thanksgiving.