If You Don't Like What You See, Don't Look!

I have another important life lesson for you, dear readers. It is one of those things that should be quite simple, and yet it is a lesson often overlooked.

See, the day started as it normally does with your round, blue friend struggling to get out of bed and then dragging herself to the shower with only one googly eye open. Once in the shower, she filled her one open googly eye with shampoo, nicked herself twice with the razor, stubbed her toe getting out of the shower, and wrapped herself in her warm, fuzzy, towelly-wrappy-thingy that is really just a bath sheet with Velcro at the top. A normal day in the making.

Then, having pried open that googly eye that wouldn’t open before, and closed the one that was still on fire from an unhealthy dose of shampoo, she made her way down the stairs, still wrapped in her towelly-wrappy-thingy and did what she always does - grabbed a cigarette and a Diet Pepsi and headed for the garage.

(Don’t judge. I don’t smoke that much and I don’t smoke in the house.)

(Okay.)

(I SAID OKAY!)

(I’LL QUIT TOMORROW... DAMMIT!)

So… out into the garage she goes, wearing only a towelly-wrappy-thingy, a cigarette, and a Diet Pepsi, bringing the two blognutian hound dogs with her.

WHO LEFT THE GARAGE DOOR OPEN?!!!

There was a landscaper’s truck parked right at the end of the driveway. There were three men RIGHT there.

The hounds? Called attention to us and ran to the three men. The hounds? Would not stop jumping on the three men and barking as though they aimed to make a lunch of them. The hounds? Had to be gathered by Blognut, still wearing only a towelly-wrappy-thingy, a cigarette, and a Diet Pepsi.

The lesson: While some might think the obvious lesson here is put some damn clothes on before you go outside, even if you think the garage door that should be closed is closed, ‘cause you have three kids and it could be open, that is not the case. No, the lesson is DON’T PARK YOUR DAMN TRUCK AT THE END OF MY DRIVEWAY AND THEN ACT LIKE A SCARED SCHOOLGIRL WHEN THE BLOGNUTIAN HOUND DOGS BARK AT YOU THEREBY FORCING BLOGNUT TO COME ALL THE WAY TO THE END OF THE DRIVEWAY TO POLICE UP THE HOUNDS WEARING ONLY A TOWELLY-WRAPPY-THINGY, A CIGARETTE, AND A DIET PEPSI.

That is all.