Dogs in Sweaters

Everywhere I go, people are sporting dogs.  They dress them up and let them play together.  There is no lack of attention.  People stop to pet the dogs and ask questions about them.  Everyone is happy.  Everyone is proud.

Thank you, Paris Hilton.

I don't mind, of course.  I once had a dog who I took everywhere, too.  I don't mind much that makes people happy.  Selfies don't bother me, nor do pictures of people's meals, drinks, etc.  I don't have to look at them.  I like emojis fine, too.  Texting is great.

None of that has much of an effect on my life.

This shit the Republicans are going to pull with the Supreme Court, though. . . does.  They are not going to let that Negro in the White House appoint a justice.  I imagine they will not let Hillary, either.  Perhaps they will move to appoint one themselves and perhaps a President, too.

I'll bet none of them have little dogs they dress up in sweaters and scarves.  They have hunting dogs to go with their guns.

But I am being to dull and obvious.  My wit has not been what it should be.  I am not reading enough.  I have been watching "Arrested Development," though, and that is a very funny show.  I'm glad I didn't watch it weekly and can now binge watch.  The episodes are only twenty-two minutes long, so I can watch three per hour.  It is weird and perverse, just up my alley.

But I have too much brain candy like that now.  Maybe I had been spending all my time shooting and editing "Lonesomville."  Maybe I haven't read seriously in a very long time.  I will begin.  At least an hour a day.  Jesus, that is a horrible statement/confession.

But I can't help myself.  I want to see "Deadpool."

I imagine I have just been running away from the horrors of contemporary life.  It is nothing new.  People have done it forever.  Or at least since the fifties (which is forever for me).  Rainbows and unicorns, baby.  That's what I got for Valentine's Day (smiley face with heart eyes emoji).  Love you.