Mr Peabody just tried to bite a young man going door-to-door for the Democratic Party and forced me to donate. Maybe he does need to go to the "It's Me or the Dog" open casting call on Saturday. The problem is that he's usually pretty calm away from the house.
I found out today I have another tooth that can't be saved. I was, as usual, praised for my impeccable home care. Fat lot of good frittering my time away in flossing has done me.
I stopped by the bakery I've been going to for the last 20 years and found out it's going out of business Saturday. I'm drowning my sorrows in an apple fritter.
My head still hurts from the sinus infection, so I'm trying to ignore the bejeweled vagina talk.