Ralph, my ten-year-old seventeen-pound long-haired orange tabby, now has to have Metamucil sprinkled on his food because of digestive problems. Due, also, to Ralph’s rear hip arthritis, the vet recommended a small step stool for the litter box.
Daniels! What are the governor & co. of my methed-out state up and going to sneak through the legislature when I’m off distracted with higher education? Daylight-saving time heresy, of course. You see, a large portion of Indiana is markedly badass in this department–as in we never change our clocks. But there have always been dickcramps untrue to the spirit of their Hoosier identity, wanting to go forward or back a Central or Eastern hour whenever the whim catches them. This will not stand.
When you put the question like: ‘what would Shawn Hunter think about my receding hairline?’, it only makes the situation more difficult. Shit, Mr. Turner was rockin solid into his well-gelled mid-30’s.
