Dear Daughter-of-mine,

I finally realized the (evil) genius of that dog of yours this morning. All this time I excused him thinking his wee pee brain just couldn't learn anything ! As I put him out (like every morning) he did his pretense of peeing in the yard, then came in the house to crap on the den floor like usual. Standing off in the corner to enjoy watching my reaction. I enjoyed fantasies like shipping him off to Michael Vic or beating him with the roll of paper towels in my hand. I did notice the large lake of pee he put in the kitchen sometime during the night, but only now realize it was placed there to give me false security as I walked into the dining room.

As I slipped, almost falling for the 19th time, I finally put it all together. He is subtle: the amount of pee was small enough in the dining room for me not to see it, and the clever placement in the grout made it all the more invisable. I know now he IS out to kill or mame me, that he does plan to take over once I'm out of the way.

If I'm found on the floor with a broken neck, DO NOT pass it off as a common household accident! Closer inspection will reveal Reggie Mantle, the adopted pet, the pet we raised as one of our own, is indeed the murderer.
I'm leaving it to you to see justice is done: I want him to go to the gas chamber (I assume they still have these somewhere, I know he wouldn't fit in the electric chair). Do not bring him into your home, once he has killed, he will only kill again! Never underestimate the cunning wile of this monster!

Have a nice day,

Dad

I leaned in close to his face. "Com'on" I breathed "Why don't you act like ya love me?"
He smiled like a sweet little boy "I can't let anyone know!"
I laughed and smushed my face on him, kissing his cheek. His face was warm. I wanted to hug it- hug his whole head nice and hard.
I kissed his mouth and then felt the urge, the hugging urge, again. "Gimmie another" I said childishly.
"Owch! It burns!"he squirmed from my kisses, which were all over his face.
"Just one." I pleaded. "No way!" He said

I stomped "I never liked you anyway." and turned to leave.
He sat up quickly, sweet blue eyes filled with hope.
"Give us a kiss?"

Aguilara get the flu

We sat by the windows, reading the newspaper. The radio blared in the background. “Last night Christina Aguilara cancelled her Wellington concert a mere 2 hours before kickoff. Many fans were infuriated”. The station cut to a medley of interviews with the fans who hadn’t known of the cancellation and had turned up ready to rock.

”I can’t bloody believe this! We’ve been drinking all day to prepare!”

"I'll never buy another of her albums, that's for sure"

"If she's a genie in a bottle then that starlet is not doing her job very well"

"She can make it up to everyone by saying sorry to New Zealand at the next Grammy Awards ... Otherwise she can get stuffed and no one should ever buy another one of her albums."

“Look at this, it’s all over the newspaper as well” he pointed to a large article with the head line “Christina @#!!#*@ Aguilera!”. It was placed directly to the left of a photo of an enraged middle aged woman in leopard print lycra.

“People weren’t this upset when Mob Deep cancelled!”

Now in the West the slender moon lies low,
And now Orion glimmers through the trees,
Clearing the earth with even pace and slow,
And now the stately-moving Pleiades,
In that soft infinite darkness overhead
Hang jewel-wise upon a silver thread.

And all the lonelier stars that have their place,
Calm lamps within the distant southern sky,
And planet-dust upon the edge of space,
Look down upon the fretful world, and I
Look up to outer vastness unafraid
And see the stars which sang when earth was made.

Marjorie Pickthall