Better Late Than...

DOB: … I don’t want to be a burden….

UCC: (stricken speechless)

WISIMH: Ok, let’s put 20 seconds on the clock and see what I can make of this
Too late, sweetie!
Approximately twenty years too late, you cow.
Then try holding your breath until you fall over.
And you’re going to avoid that how? By doing your own laundry, cleaning your own room, cooking your own food, doing your own shopping, running your own errands, ordering your own meds, keeping your own doctors appointments, taking out your own trash. I could go on.
Then consider taking a bath or shower every day. And here’s an idea: use soap and maybe even some deodorant. And try changing your clothes more than twice a week.
And I don’t want to be a bitch, but here we are.

Dogs and Longevity

TCG: Hey. There’s a neat statistic.

UCC: (Not wearing hearing aids) What?

TCG: You live an average of 3 years longer if you have a dog.

UCC: No kidding?

WISIMH: So TCB will live until approximately the twelfth day of never. And with so many loveable characteristics. To name a few: the patience of an untrained circus monkey; the paranoia of a tweaking meth-head; the reasoning skills of a 2-year-old in need of a nap, the charm of a hungry alligator in a kiddie pool; one tooth; the personal hygiene practices of a homeless drunk, the conversation skills of a boiling kettle; the situational awareness of a comatose possum; the manners of a demented hag with one tooth. Not to mention, the fragrance of a dumpster during a garbage strike.