Dating and Dog Chews

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Gentle Reader,

As continued proof that I have absolutely no shame, and wanting only to entertain and amuse you, my reader:

1.  Yesterday I went into town to have lunch with a darling friend from college, and met her hubby.  It was awesome, he is delightful (she is, too, but I’ve always known she was delightful and hadn’t met him and now I’m starting to overthink this one, aren’t I?), and we had so much fun talking about kids and dogs and college.  Thanks for lunch A and N!  (Next time, it’s on me, and provided there are no buns in ovens, we drink.  I mean it.)

Anyway, while I was in town, I went to various SuperTargets to try to find the rawhide that the dogs prefer because the Target we have here in East Texas is tiny and doesn’t have nearly the selection that bigger Targets do…(let’s not even examine how much First World there is in the preceding statement…)  Sadly the preferred rawhide appears to have been discontinued at some point recently and we cannot find any.  The puppies are really ramping up the chewing, so we need really durable and lasting (and preferably cheap) things for them to chew on, otherwise they start eating furniture and load-bearing walls.  So I started looking around and found something new for the puppies–I’d never heard of it, but it promised to be long lasting and that dogs LOVE it.  (The Holy Grail of power-chewer chewing objects.)  I got it home and found it to be thus:

IMG_0802

And I turned the package over and apparently we’ve become “those” people…

IMG_0803

Not only are we still grain- and gluten-free, we are also now buying our dogs chews made from only the finest HIMALAYAN YAK MILK.  (And lime juice and salt.  Pass the tequila.)

Meanwhile, Backus is still confused by the concept of glass doors.  Pearls before swine or something like that…

And also:

2.  Many of y’all know that I’ve been doing the “onl*ne d*ting” (I hate internet searches) thing recently.  It has gone as you might expect.  Until yesterday, when the particular website I had been using determined that Cletus (*not his real name) and I would be a suitable match.  Apparently we are both animal lovers.  Reading Cletus’ profile, I see that he listed bears as his pets and that his job was listed as “circus performer”.  I immediately start laughing and begin to think that this website might actually know what they’re doing because they understand that I very much appreciate and need the sarcasm.  Because who would think to ironically list THAT as a career?  So I peruse Cletus’ pictures.

First pic:  Him with two bears.  (I would mention that they weren’t on leashes but I somehow don’t think leash laws matter all that much in controlling pet bears.)

Second pic:  Him in a tank top and a brightly-festooned pair of what appear to be bike shorts.  (WHAT IS IT WITH THE MENFOLK AND THE TANK TOPS IN THESE PICTURES?????  Just.  Say.  No.)

Third pic:  Him in what I initially thought was a matching tank top to the bike shorts.  But then slowly the realization rolled over me:

“Wait.  That’s a tight tank top.

“Maybe it’s some kind of charity bike ride sort of outfit-how fun

“That’s a unitard

“He is wearing a unitard and has pet…

“OHMYGOD HE IS ACTUAL CIRCUSFOLK.

“IT WASN’T IRONY, LAUREN, HE WAS SERIOUS.”

(And if any of you are in the traveling entertainment industry, please know I do not mean this as a personal attack on you, your choices, or your life.  You do you.  You’re awesome.)

What, in any CONCEIVABLE profile that I might write (realizing we all choose to highlight different aspects of ourselves at different times for different reasons) about ANY facet of my life, makes what has been a highly-profitable algorithm come to the conclusion that my true love?  IS A CARNIE?????

That’s it-I’m checking out.  If you need me, I’ll be at The Little Sisters of the Poor Convent.  (They don’t have men in tank tops, do they?)

Married friends, friends in deeply committed relationships?  Go, right now, and buy your SO a thoughtful gift and go hug them very tightly and never let them go.  It’s a jungle out here.

Complete with damn pet bears.

Goodnight,

Lauren

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