Dog Day

I was thinking recently while walking about book subjects I have no interest in. Such as: I once owned a real great dog and gee, he sure taught me a lot about life.

Well, lo and behold, I am watching Martha the other morning and she and John O'Hurley are shining shoes and talking about his new book. Then we are looking at a wonderful picture of he and his far-too-young for him McWife, who is soon to bear the fruit of his aging, wrinkly-sperm filled loins. Ick, ick, ick. Now I can't really blame John O'Hurley for any of this; he clearly doesn't have much going on in his head, as his sweet, dumb smile attests.

But I can blame his wife. It really pisses me off to see women doing shit like this: plastinating themselves with their 500 dollar blonde dye jobs and fake tits and Botox-before-40 and then attaching themselves to wrinkly old hairy old sacks of cash. Women are powerful and strong! We do not need to whore ourselves out to old rich guys to make it in the world. Yet some of us continue to do it. And it is a shame.