I don't like Sundays

I have never liked Sunday. As a kid, Sunday meant being dgagged off the church and even though we got candy afterwards, I still would have rather stayed home and watched Davey and Goliath (even though Davey was such a wimp).

Now it's the day when I have to think up something to do because I don't have any place to go or any particular thing I have to do. You think, "I better come up with something good because time's awastin' and soon it'll be Monday and I'll have to go to my job or do the laundry" or some other prescribed activity. I already went for a walk -- a forced march led by my friend Kathy, who likes to walk and smoke cigarettes at the same time. So we walked, she smoked and Kathy's partner Amy walked a ways behind since she didn't want to walk at all in the first place. Now Kathy's cleaning, Amy is learning her lines and I'm blogging. Which one of us is the most useless? I think we all know the answer to that question.

The JoySpot -- one happy, true thing -- your dog will never know you're a big jerk.