#185 – Birds of a Feather

I recently discovered the wonders of “Sharky” on YouTube. For those who don’t know, Sharky is an enormous Pit Bull who’s made friends with all sorts of small animals: a cat; a guinea pig; a wild rabbit; baby chicks; and even an iguana! The chicks, rabbit and guinea pig let the dog lick them with his giant tongue, and the chicks and iguana ride on his back. I find all the videos adorable and funny, and I can’t get enough of them. But as I learned today, Prometheus is no Sharky.

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#186 – Losing Her Lunch

My sister told me last night that she mistakenly violated a cardinal rule of inter-parent relations. As a result, she has two fewer friends to call her own. Until recently, Louise lunched weekly with a couple of her dearest friends, Robin and June. Robin is a mousy fifty-year-old whom Louise has known since high school. She’s a quiet woman who’s always hated confrontation, unlike my outgoing and decidedly blunt-speaking sister.

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#187 – Hang Him High

Mentoring resumed today. As expected, Ernie didn’t take well to the Principal’s ban on our new game, “Rockem Sockem Teachers.” I tried to console him by pointing out the obvious: “Just because you can’t work on the game at school anymore doesn’t stop you and your friends from playing it anywhere else.” Though I doubt that’s what the Principal intended when he put the kibosh on our vehicle for mocking the faculty, I felt glad to see my mentee smile again.

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#188 – Time to Move

Last night, my friend Ned gave me the latest update on his mother’s living situation. Due to Mrs. Stilzman’s indecent exposure citation on Halloween, her two sons had convinced her to move to an assisted living community for seniors. She’d joined a certain facility’s geriatric ranks a week ago, and called one or both of her sons every day since to complain about the place. Only after yesterday’s earful, however, did her boys finally agree it’s time for her to find a new abode.

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#193 – Tis the Season

I’ve had to learn the hard way that many temps just don’t give a crap. Whenever I’ve hired temporary secretaries to fill in for my regular assistant, they’ve displayed the kind of disinterest typically seen from the people in orange jumpsuits spearing roadside trash. And those were the intelligent ones! The less intellectually gifted souls who’ve shown up at my office compounded their lackadaisical attitudes with an equal dose of ineptitude. And as I discovered today, the temp who messed up my holiday gift order must be the poster child for both deficiencies.

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