I Have No Title For This

This morning my stomach growled and the dog got upset. She made that half-bark sound like when she hears a car door slam. "Danger is afoot!" she says. "I must investigate!"

I ate last night, I promise! I ate a lot! I finished my plate and later ate what Shawn didn't finish. I have lost two pounds though. If Mom asks, just blame it on summer time heat. She has a tendency to see that you've lost weight, even when you've gained weight. "Have you lost weight??" she demands.

"No, Mom!" you say. Give her kudos for being concerned, though. She just being a mom. That's her job.

Like I said before, I haven't read the paper in quite a while so I have little to say. I could gripe about work but no one wants to hear about that. I am quite disappointed that those miners were given up on. I can't possibly imagine what their families are going through.

People have been asking if Shawn has quit! They've sent over six guys (all at once? Probably) to replace Shawn temporarily. That's just sad, man. Patsy said Shawn got more done scooting across the floor with a paint brush than some of these guys do in eight hours.

Shawn had said he was gonna just hold off on going back till after his surgery. Then his boss had to go and say that Shawn can go in for an hour, two hours, whatever he felt like. This, of course, led to an argument between me and Shawn.

I say if he doesn't stay off that knee, the surgery is gonna be hell. Shawn is just a stupid donkey. His opinion doesn't matter here because it's my blog. HA HA! He wants to work. I know he's sick of the bedroom (that's what she said HA HA) but he doesn't realize that he could really mess up that knee.

But what do I know, right? I can't even begin to dissect the male psyche.