I love my dog. She's part of my life but she has never taught me how to live in the now. Her name is Paisley not Eckhart Tolle. It's time for this vomitous twaddle to stop.
The mood around here seems to be worsening significantly every day that this story continues. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the next sensitive subject KM decides to butcher will be depression. She be able to introduce a new miracle worker therapist: Dr. Tiffany Blue.
Saul owned Bella for years, yet remained an angry, anti-social grouch. Somehow owning Greta has turned him into a smiling, sociable platitude-popper. It must be those dachshund vibes.
I don't think these two are even listening to each other. When one stops talking, the other launches into his or her own platitudinous patter. This isn't a conversation. Neither cares what the other is saying.
This reminds me of an immutable rule of male friendship: "Nobody cares about your round of golf or your fantasy baseball team. They don't want to hear about it. Just as you don't want to hear about theirs."
We talk about your work How your boss is a jerk We talk about your church And your head when it hurts We talk about the troubles you been having with your brother About your daddy and your mother And your crazy ex-lover We talk about your friends And the places that you've been We talk about your skin and the devils on your chin The polish on your toes and the run in your hose And God knows we're gonna talk about your clothes You know talking about you makes me smile But every once in a while I wanna talk about me, wanna talk about I Wanna talk about number one, oh my me my What I think, what I like, what I know What I want, what I see I like talking about you, you, you, you usually But occasionally I wanna talk about me (me, me, me, me)
My work schedule changed months ago and I no longer can read MW&M until after supper. :( I still check in and love all the comments, Haiku's and Wander's secret messages. Every Friday I ask myself, "Gawd I hope a new plot line starts on Monday" and every Monday I sink deeper into the Santa Royale Tar Pits.
@RobC, thanks for checking in. It’s never too late in the day to post a comment as long as you allow me to post late in the day when I can’t post in the morning.
Don't be shy! I'd love to hear what you have to say about Mary Worth. Just keep it clean, that's all I ask. This is a FAMILY FRIENDLY blog. I don't want to moderate comments, but I will if I have to.
Wait, Eve and Saul have dogs?? Seriously? Who knew?
ReplyDeleteToday's Boredface Haiku is titled
ReplyDelete"Not Family Friendly".
Needs!
Now!
Feels good!
@KitKat--Be careful. KM may take you literally and reiterate for another three months.
Bow chicka bow wow!
ReplyDeleteI love my dog. She's part of my life but she has never taught me how to live in the now. Her name is Paisley not Eckhart Tolle. It's time for this vomitous twaddle to stop.
ReplyDeleteThe mood around here seems to be worsening significantly every day that this story continues. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the next sensitive subject KM decides to butcher will be depression. She be able to introduce a new miracle worker therapist: Dr. Tiffany Blue.
ReplyDeleteHelenClark
I didn't think we would ever get back to talking about the dogs!
ReplyDeleteSaul owned Bella for years, yet remained an angry, anti-social grouch. Somehow owning Greta has turned him into a smiling, sociable platitude-popper. It must be those dachshund vibes.
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteI don't think these two are even listening to each other. When one stops talking, the other launches into his or her own platitudinous patter. This isn't a conversation. Neither cares what the other is saying.
This reminds me of an immutable rule of male friendship: "Nobody cares about your round of golf or your fantasy baseball team. They don't want to hear about it. Just as you don't want to hear about theirs."
-- Scottie McW.
Per Toby Keith:
ReplyDeleteWe talk about your work
How your boss is a jerk
We talk about your church
And your head when it hurts
We talk about the troubles you been having with your brother
About your daddy and your mother
And your crazy ex-lover
We talk about your friends
And the places that you've been
We talk about your skin and the devils on your chin
The polish on your toes and the run in your hose
And God knows we're gonna talk about your clothes
You know talking about you makes me smile
But every once in a while
I wanna talk about me, wanna talk about I
Wanna talk about number one, oh my me my
What I think, what I like, what I know
What I want, what I see
I like talking about you, you, you, you usually
But occasionally
I wanna talk about me (me, me, me, me)
Hey guys,
ReplyDeleteMy work schedule changed months ago and I no longer can read MW&M until after supper. :( I still check in and love all the comments, Haiku's and Wander's secret messages. Every Friday I ask myself, "Gawd I hope a new plot line starts on Monday" and every Monday I sink deeper into the Santa Royale Tar Pits.
Take care all,
Rob in Maine
@RobC, thanks for checking in. It’s never too late in the day to post a comment as long as you allow me to post late in the day when I can’t post in the morning.
ReplyDelete