Despite the title, no dogs were hurt in the making of this post. I promise you will not need tissues. You can continue reading without fear. I can’t stand stories where the dog dies in the end. Kill all the people you want, damn it, but save the dog. I mean, I thought the movie A Dog’s Purpose was the worst film idea ever. What kind of masochist wants to watch a dog die six times?
You’re sick, Hollywood. Sick.
Now, onto the dog-is-fine-I-promise story. Continue reading When Dog Met Car (#188)
I live in Los Angeles and there’s something under my house.
Don’t freak out.
It’s just a crawl space. Continue reading What Lies Below (#187)
A big family and not quite enough food can mess you up for life. My sisters and I learned to eat fast, hunching protectively over our plates. But no matter how fast we ate, Big Brother would finish first. Then he’d inevitably loom over us, asking, “Are you gonna eat that?”
If our mouths were too full to answer, he’d take that as a no.
Fork duels ensued. Continue reading Chocolate Thievery (#186)
