880. Just Bitching

It is sooo hot here in the Big Apple.

I took Ray for a walk and half way around the block he just lay down.

I carried him home.

I’m not walking him for the rest of the day. He’ll just have to use my terrace (or as David says, the most expensive toilet in NYC) for his ablutions.

I know this won’t make me popular but I have a bone to pick with some dog owners on Facebook.

Not all dogs are good looking just as not all babies are good looking.  Yet there are some people who keep putting photos of mediocre looking dogs on the site.

I say if your dog is especially handsome or pretty, for example:


Go for it.

If they don’t reach this benchmark (see above) keep the pictures in your wallets.

If you don’t like me for saying this, well haters gonna hate.

Does anyone else realize that I have no idea where to put commas? I just throw them hither and yon and hope I get away with it.

I am very mad that as of yet no one has rented my Montauk house and the summer is passing by.

I have my friend Susan, out in Montauk now,  well not Susan, Allan, because he has more of a flair, if you know what I mean, at taking stylish pictures.

I’m going to put these on one of those websites that notifies murderers and thieves that you have a vacation house there for the taking.

I think I’ve been too picky. The way I see it, I ain’t gonna marry these people. If they pay the rent I don’t care if they run a meth lab out there.

Just as long as they clean the sheets before they leave.


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