Damn I look good in Brad's shirt. In fact, I think I probably look better than Brad does in this shirt. Not that I am bragging or anything, but when you are a shiny-coated magnificent bastard there is no denying it. Facts are facts my friends.

Well, things have been happening around here that are, how shall I say, unsavory. Orange Effer is back with more courage than ever. All I can say is that he must have a death wish. I think he has lost his mind. Seriously, Orange Effer is off his rocker. Get this, Orange Effer has been prancing two inches in front of my glass door on a daily basis. Yes, you read that right, TWO INCHES!

Don't worry, I'm not going to put myself through a glass door or anything. I am not the crazy one. HOWEVER, one of these days that door will be open and then it is curtains for Orange Effer!

Little Dooce is some kind of strange breed of pittbull. I don't know this for a fact, but I think he may have actual bull in him. He knocks around in his backyard so much that I swear one of these days the fence will fall over. I am just waiting for the horns to grow out of the side of his head.

Brad and Julie have some sort of water delivery service nowadays. It baffles me why of all things they would actually want some stranger in a loud, noisy truck drop off huge jugs of water only to knock on the door and then run like a little bastard! This is poor customer service in my opinion. I think the guy should come it, sit for a moment, let me sniff him up and down and make my character judgment. The Schwann company is excellent about this. When we lived in Arizona the Schwann man would come and drop off his frozen goods, rough me up, and give me a dog treat. That man was the next best thing to Brad.

Anyhow, this is my crazy life.