Bow Chica Wow Wow!

There is an old man who walks the park numerous times a day. He wears a plaid cotton fedora, and looks like a cool cat. He was probably a surfer dude back in the day, hittin' the waves at Rincon, driving a woody, and dating a girl with a bushy bushy blonde hairdo.

How he ended up in the godforsaken central valley is completely beyond my imagination. Maybe he had a run-in with a shark? That is the only logical explanation. Nevertheless, he walks three different dogs around the park, one at a time, rain or shine, without fail. He walks each dog at least once...sometimes more. They are all red retrievers. There is one hot babe that he walks who carries a toy newspaper in her mouth the entire route. Bow chica wow wow!! I like her.

So when Brad tries to get out of our evening walks, I just give him "THE LOOK." The look that says, "Red dogs owner walks HIS 3 dogs TWO times a day and all I ask for is ONE time a day so get up off of that couch and take me for a walk before I make your life a living hell!"

Oh, and I will too. I will bark and pitch a fit, pant, scratch, turn in circles, scratch, pant, bark, bark, bark, and bark. I have my ways of getting my point across, and Brad knows it! He does.