"Courage!" he said, and pointed toward the land

His name is Tennyson, and he is my parents new dog.

Delusional

I know that it's a ridiculous thought, but sometimes when the dog is barking, and I am yelling at him to stop, I worry that maybe it is like in 101 Dalmations and he has an important message to convey to the other dogs. And to be honest, I really wouldn't mind if 99 puppies came to crash in my backyard.

It's not junk anymore!

Late at night, when I'm bored and trying to be quiet, I reply to junk mail.

Dear Kevin,
Good day to you, too!
I actually have been thinking about going on vacation, getting a new car, AND that new TV and computer that I've been thinking about (but couldn't because I cannot make ends meet and those obligations are piling up), thank you for asking. I appreciate you saying that you can get my life back on track, but I feel, at this point in time, that my life is generally where I would like it to be. I am a student, with a mortgage, nobody expects me to have money. But thanks anyway, and might I suggest that you spell-check your spam?
Love,
Megan

Replying to spam both gives me something to occupy my time, and allows me to pretend (for a few minutes at least) that I receive hundreds of e-mails a day from people who want nothing but to help me or do me. So many people seem to be concerned about my financial situation, and some merely want to ask questions about my social life. Gail wanted to ensure I am happy, or at least that is what I gathered as she gave me several price listings for various anti-depressants. Some e-mails just keep rubbing it in that I was born a girl and thus cannot write my name in the snow while urinating (at least not with ease).

Dear Beck,
Let me start this e-mail by saying that I think you are slightly confused. While I appreciate the trouble you have taken to put together an e-mail with so much information about erectile difficulties and having a "stronger ejaculation", I feel I should probably tell you that it is physically impossible for me sustain an erection (unless by erection you mean building) as I do not actually have a penis of my own. And while I am sure having a stronger ejaculation would be lovely, unless you are referring to female ejaculation, I fear that I am incapable of that as well.
Again, thank you for all the trouble you have gone through and if I do meet a man who would like better erections and stronger ejaculations I will be sure to send him to the website address you so helpfully gave to me.
Have a wonderful day,
Megan

Now I only need a fish pond

My sister gets belligerent when she is drunk. I get overly ambitious.
"Come with me!" I shouted to my brother. "We must find rocks!"
"For what?" He asked, as he pried his body reluctantly away from its resting place on my leather couch.
"My pond." I sighed, exasperated.
"But you do not have a pond."
"Exactly. That is why I need the rocks," I yelled behind me as I made my way out the front door, the screen door producing a loud SMACK as it shut behind me. I bounded around the side of the house and down a small hill towards a fenced off area where the corporation that is the city was digging up the same bridge it had been digging up all summer. I looked around, in the moonlight, for anything that sparkled. I needed sparkly rocks for my pond.
"So what are we doing?" my brother asked when he finally caught up.
"We are finding rocks," I told him.
"I gathered that much, but are we looking for just any rocks or a specific kind of rock?"
I took a long, slow sip of my margarita (p.s. I brought a glass full of my favorite tequila infused drink with me) and deliberated his question.
"Yes. We are looking for granite," I replied. "Basically, any rocks you see that sparkle are granite. I am just looking for the ones that sparkle the most."
Thirty minutes and fifty ridiculously heavy stones later, my brother and I were finished seeking retribution for the extra gas money the city had cost me with the detour the non-existent bridge forced me to take. The fruition of our labour now lay in a giant pile in front of my house, sparkling in the twilight for all the world to see.. but hopefully not the city workers who will be doing more construction first thing tomorrow morning.

Sometimes I call her "mini-me"

She informed me, with a less than thrilled look on her face, that in the middle of her pap smear, the doctor had paused to ask her how I was doing.
"Are you mostly upset because this isn't the first time someone has asked you that when they've been in the vicinity of your cooter?" I asked her.
"Wow, you are so funny." she said flatly. "I just thought that there were more appropriate times for him to ask how you are doing."
"So you are telling me that, generally, you do not like it when people are touching your reproductive areas and thinking of me?" I questioned.
"Yes. That is what I am saying." she said, as she narrowed her eyes at me.
"It is not my fault that this keeps happening to you. I will try not to be so lovable. It is not my fault that I have the face of an angel." I paused. "So did anything else eventful happen at your physical?" I wondered aloud.
"Yes!" She beamed. "We determined that I am actually 5'3", not 5'2" like I had thought."
"That means nothing coming from the same doctor who told me that he would allow me to shrink a 1/4 of an inch so that I could be 5'11" and 1/2 instead of 5'11" and 3/4."
"You are raining on my parade." she said.
"You should have brought an umbrella." I told her.

It's a tough job, but somebody has to do it.

I've spent the past three hours at my fathers office and have officially taken care of the ass photocopying/breast photocopying/face photocopying requirements of the company for the week. I've also taken care of the required in-office dancing, as well as Frisbee playing. And just so that no one could say that I wasn't really working, I sat down in my father's swivel chair and spun around for a couple of minutes.

Note to Self: Koalas are slutty

Did you know that animals could get the clap? I am going to assume you didn't because I somehow doubt that animals with chlamydia come up too frequently in everyday conversation (for most people). I, however, am going to start talking about std infected animals all the time from now on.
So how did I find out animals can get chlamydia? The answer is simple: One gave it to me. No, I'm just kidding, partly. It is just one of the many wonderful things that Animal Planet has taught me. My three favorite television stations ever are The Learning Channel, The Discovery Channel, and Animal Planet. I think the world is a better place because they exist, and because they have shows about puppies and babies.
And assuming you clicked on the above hyperlink, how much would it suck to be the model they used on the cdc's chlamydia page? It certainly wouldn't make your social life thrive, one would think.