Earlier, 3:20 a.m., to be exact, I started writing this uproariously funny blog post (in my head.) It had it all, a bit of mystique, wonder, fascination wrapped with tons of clever repartee.
Links? I had dozens of them. This would bring dozens and dozens, perhaps even hundreds of new readers here. The blogs I linked to would throw plaques and awards at my feet and write such high praises as to make Jenny blush. Mental Poo would write about me and not his anal meetup with celery.
3:20 a.m. Sofi, the four pounder began to whine in her crate, which means she missed her 9 o’clock pee. Since the time change, ( and I think somewhat related, the change of life) we are nicely tucked in by 8:30. Not sleeping, but watching the ninth episode of some Law and Order CSI/NCIS Miami program
Sometimes I get up in the middle of the dark, sometimes Nancy gets up. Now that I have hoses at both ends of my body (CPAP blowing in one end and Ice Pack freezing the other) Nancy got up. This bit would have you grasping your sides to keep from busting a gut with laughter as I recalled the time I got the two hoses switched and ended up with massive brain freeze and a knee that Balloon Boy would have fit into.
The rest of the post was jocularity about Derby being uncrated and joining us in bed, which meant Sedona did too. The fact that we are also sleeping with remotes would bring tears to your eyes. Especially when I wrote about the part where Sedona turned on the television and was flipping through channels because she had her elbow on a remote.
I knew you would get tickled when Nancy returned to bed and I asked if she had been shopping. As Gretchen wrote someplace other than her blog.
There are many things which doing online in the dead of night can never lead to anything good (strike that: anything *morally* good), but shopping for drop-dead gorgeous boots on Zappos has got to be chief among them.
Nancy doesn’t usually shop Zappos in the midst of the wee hours – usually it’s Ravelry.
This made me wonder how dogs decide how much volume and frequency of whining is needed at 3:20 a.m. Nooter would be my source. I had the perfect answer. A combination of science and parody that would make Dick Cheney chortle.
OMG, it was just so ROTFLMAO funny.
But after taking Hydrocodone to sleep last night, and not taking any notes, you get this instead.