that’s not my dog…

Sorry.  That’s me barking.  For real, guys.  I am hacking and barking like a seal.  Like rib-crunching, body-jarring coughing.  But that’s usually how I roll.

Coughing and me are old acquaintances.  I think Cough would like to be more than that.  I mean, he obviously sees us as friends as often as he comes by and as long as he stays once he gets here.

I’ve told him, “Cough,” I’ve said, “I really don’t think we’re all that compatible.  I mean, true, I can be a royal party-pooper, but you?  C’mon!  You take the cake, pal.”

But he seems oblivious to my subtle rebuff.   So I get a little more aggressive with my dismissal…

“And actually I’m not into that deal where you hurt the one you love, y’know.  Although…I could definitely knock you into next week, though there’s just no love here on my part.  Frankly, this is not even one of those ‘we can just be friends’ situations, either.  To be completely honest, you make me angry.  Y’know, like Dave Banner just before The Hulk angry.”


“…and dude, seriously, you won’t like me when I’m angry.”

That’s how I’d LIKE it to go.  But actually it’s more Cough has already morphed into The Hulk and I’m whatever this is he’s smackin’ to smithereens:


So…yeah, I’ve been way scarce here and I am hating it!  Hopefully, ol’ Cough will find some fresh prey and head on outta here and leave me a-LONE!

Y’all be good now…