#197 – Setting the Table

Some may wonder why I haven’t written further about the relationship counseling between me and my mother-in-law. Oh yes, that cash siphoning fiasco continues from week to week. But Sophia has strictly forbidden me from publishing another word on it. As directed, I’ll refrain from commenting on yesterday’s session with “Dr. Freud” and instead will share the story Ron told me this morning.

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#198 – The Tennis Elbow

My brother finally got around to fixing his tennis elbow. Unsurprisingly, Frank insists normal repetitive stress from too many hours hitting balls caused his injury. I beg to differ though. Knowing him for the poor loser he’s always been, I think his elbow suffered more shocks from smashing tennis rackets and ping pong paddles than it could handle.

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#199 – The Miracle of Christmas

I’m beginning to think there’s something to this whole Christmas miracle thing. At least, I have no better explanation for the affection I received from Sophia’s family this morning. Along with Prometheus, we traveled bright and early to my in-laws’ house for the annual exchange of Christmas gifts. Knowing Sophia’s family tolerates me like a recurring case of herpes, I’d pulled out all the stops in this year’s shopping. And my extra effort paid off!

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#200 – The Stuff that Sex Dreams are Made of

I spent most of this morning researching the meaning of dreams. But not just any old dreams; I delved the significance of the sexual ones involving people we know. This investigation took a lot longer than I’d expected. Then again, I admittedly had to dig deep to locate a palatable reason for the doozie which disrupted my slumber last night.

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#201 – Take Paw, Press “Send”

Most people know of the well-worn hypothesis that an infinite number of monkeys using an infinite number of keyboards would eventually produce the complete works of Shakespeare. Prometheus is no monkey, and I doubt he could generate even one of Shakespeare’s shorter sonnets. Nonetheless, as my wife discovered last night, while our puppy couldn’t type a proper sentence if his life depended on it, he’s already displayed a skill for sending e-mails.

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#202 – Copping an Attitude

As has become my habit, I was listening to The Bert Show today. It’s a morning show on the radio, and one of the topics discussed concerned female attitudes in the workplace. Specifically, the crew debated whether women needed to be narcissistic and aggressive in order to thrive in their chosen professions. Some callers said “yes,” insisting only supreme bitches can claim leadership of the pack in a number of professions. Hearing them describe representative examples of the breed called to mind a woman I knew from the years working at my old law firm, Schwartz Meisner.

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