Ummm - didn't read that quote in red up there?  
     Now, how in the world could anyone write after reading a thing like that?!
     I couldn't even remember how to turn my PC on, I was so worried about that poor pooch.  
     It can't be easy coming into the kitchen looking for table scraps and being mistaken for a hedge trimmer.
     At least it never was for my Uncle Clement.
     Did you know that "Clement" actually means "mild, kind, and merciful"?
     Uncle Clement was the first person I ever knew to die of irony....

     I accidentally ingested squid ink.
     See, we cooked this new kind of pasta for dinner.  A multi-colored pasta shaped like leaves but which really looked more like little dog tongues. 
     Anyway, I ate it, and then looked at the list of ingredients printed on the package.  NEVER a wise thing to do - and especially not a wise thing to do when a humming dog's head already has you on edge - but, tossing all caution to the wind (actually, a slight draft coming from my refrigerator motor), I read that list.
     "Squid ink."
     Oh.
     OH.
     OH SWEET BUDDHA - CEPHALOPOD FLUIDS ARE NOW IN MY BODY!!!
     Suffice it to say, I found a nice quiet place in our crawlspace to curl up in and wait to die....
 

     "Gee, I wonder if Martha Stewart squeezes her own squid?"
 

     He's helping my wife grade senior term papers.  It's a job he's expected to perform every May.  After scattering these papers randomly around the living room, my wife smears his feet with red ink and allows him to roam freely (occasionally helped along by the sounds of a suddenly activated vacuum cleaner).  The more red ink that ends up on a paper after 28 minutes, the worse the grade.  The students are left to puzzle over what the red ink is supposed to indicate exactly as if it had been put there by one of the three teachers in Ohio still using old, discredited methods of measuring pupil abilities.  Jester gets a tasty treat as his reward.  I am left wondering if there are now cephalopod fluids all over my favorite chair....  

     Word has just reached me that our local TV station is moving its newscast to Mexico to save on labor costs.  Since that station's reporters virtually never leave the news room to gather the news anyway, I'm told to expect very little if any noticeable decline in overall quality.  
     In fact, virtually no decline at all should be noticeable once I learn Spanish.
     
 

     I've often wondered that about Martha before.
     *BLUSH*