Another, to pass the time.

Two posts in one day! Wow-whee!

Two more hours to kill, my friends.

I write imflammatory comments, yet I'm afraid to inflame. What kind of cowardly instigator am I? Should I have a disclaimer? Okay.

Disclaimer: Everything I write is actually full of shit. There's no point in being offended by it. It's like talking to hear yourself talk. I'm writing to see text on a page.

After a decent thirty seconds of soul searching, I have come to this conclusion: Since it takes so much to draw out a response from people, I feel it's necessary to be obnoxious and offensive. It's like a jump-start for your brain. Maybe if I'm awful enough, I'll get you to think about something passionately. And that would be boatloads of fun.

Speaking of fun, this lovely doggy-woggy is going to be in court soon. Should I let that speak for itself, or should I ridicule it for a few minutes? Ridicule it is. The Boston Globe can be quoted: "In an age when courts hear too many of life's grim tales, Murphy's story brought some badly needed chuckles that resonated nationwide." Yes, because courts are places where chuckles belong. Screw court; let's just bring the whole procession to a circus. While we're at it, let's move funerals aways from cemeteries and bring them to circuses, too. Hell, dogs can be the pallbearers. That would be a good laugh.