So here I sit. In my castle. Whiling my time away. I can get a mite bored – so I talk to my dog – but he usually doesn’t have much to say. So now I talk to a mic – because that’s less crazy – and it’s easy to convince myself that I am just procrastinating . . . and not being lazy. So – thanks for the listen – you get a gold star. Hopefully you will enjoy what you hear. Hardy-har-har-har.

I split my toe – I stubbed my toe – I mangled and bashed and beat up my toe. Socks just stood by and watched . . . I had to hobble around a bit – and the worst part was the cleaning of the wound.

Booooooo cleaning – in all of it’s sundry forms.

I don’t know what is going on . . . we have stopped getting mail. It is so hot. Mott the Sheep stops by – and we try to figure out what his wool is called – it isn’t a jacket – we know that – but – what in the world is it?!?

After being stuck in the doldrums of summer – under it’s thumb – behind the eight ball . . . we are back and we make sure that we save Vincent’s balloon so that he can continue having the best day ever.

I talk about my new job . .. walking a dog. Then I notice that there isn’t anyone around to help me. Nobody at all.
Is everyone on vacation?

Is everyone hiding?

Then the trash is gross.

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I like to go on stage and tell little jokes to people . . . but – now – people expect people to come to my shows . . . and I don’t know people – and people – and people – and people.

I may lose a kneecap . . . aaaaaiiiiiggggghhhh!

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