The musings of a madman...

       Humans don’t deserve dogs… I do, make no mistakes. I treat my buddies like the family members I brought them home to be. Everyone in the house talks to the boys like they’re children and I would not have it any other way. We will return to why that matters in a bit.      Lately, here in our “live forever” push, I workout 3-5 cumulative hours a day 5-6 days a week like an archdemon and Wife Person™ has gotten into yoga. She asks me frequently if I would care to join her in the yoga class and I politely decline. It just isn’t my scene, I need CHAOS in my physical activities. This doesn’t stop her from repackaging the question and asking more, though. Wife Person™: “Going to yoga after work tomorrow, you wanna come with?” Me: “Nah, I’m good.” Wife Person™: “I figured you’d say that.” Me: “But you keep askin’ though.” Wife Person™: “But I think I can change your mind this week.” Me: “I’m listening…” Wife Person™: “Puppy yoga.” Me: “PUPPIES?!!?” Wife Person™: “Puppy yoga.” M

       I don’t bother anybody. I drive a 2013 Subaru and live in a 1300 square foot house. I don’t have any flashy items and don’t spend money I don’t have on extraneous bullshit.      Why, then, was I--… WAIT      This all starts back in late September/early October.   Wife person had taken a shine to USING the thousands of dollars (I see the shipments, woman!) of essential oils that she had been collecting like Infinity Stones on aromatherapy products.   Bracelets, diffuser blends, etc…   Nothing terribly out of sorts, and she was clearing her money spent so I had nothing to worry with.   She was back in her office and quiet.      If anyone knows the “Phlip’s wife has a new hobby” dynamic, they know that once her obsession grows, Phlip doesn’t get to sit down.   Like ever . So now it is October 17 th , a Saturday.   I cooked chicken wings and got drunk, she raided the kitchen cabinets and went to her office to create.   I wake up Sunday morning.   I should have known so