Where, may I ask did that week go?
I'm sitting here ... with a raging hormonal headache ...which just won't go away no matter how many pills I pop ... and feeling rather sorry for myself.
Iphoto is playing up ... and I dare not touch a single thing in an attempt to fix it ... after what happened the last time. I will leave it alone ... and let it be somebody else's problem. Someone without a raging hormonal headache.
To top if off, the dog keeps barking at something only he can see. It's possibly real ... but more likely imagined ... the poor neurotic creature. As I write ... an axe murderer is probably sneaking in the back door ... final last words and all.
Buster the terrier is our cute little pet,
Who seems so endearing ... till you get to the vet.
Where he turns from a sweet and lovable chap,
To a feral and vicious and horrible yap.
He gets put in a muzzle ... the unbearable shame,
But the vet keeps his fingers ... and I avoid blame.
Then once we are home he's as sweet as can be,
And seems to be saying, "What angelic me?"
"I'll do as you say and obey your command,"
"As long as I want to and it's what I had planned."
"You can tell me to stay ... or to come ... take a seat,"
And I will ... just as long as I'm offered a treat."
"Don't know why you write that I'm bad on your blog,"
"If you give me my way ... I'm a very good dog."
Have a good weekend everybody!