My name is PK and my dogs are milkoholics. I had suspected so when one of them started slurping from my glass that was beside me on a table a couple months ago. And last week when I was pouring out some old, way past due milk into the sink apparently that familiar glug glug made them come in and look longing at the sink. This morning, I was measuring some milk into a cup to make pancakes and they both came running in and stared at me, looking for their next hit. It's a good thing we don't have milkmen delivery to the door anymore or they would launch some kind of stealth attack, I'm sure of it.
Last night I watched the DVD of Bridesmaids. It was rated R because of a couple adult scenes so I definitely wouldn't have kids catch this, but it was actually better than I thought. I thought it would be the equivalent of those brain-cell-killing supposed comedies that are really gross-out scenes. This was really rather touching on how the traditions of the wedding and being a bridesmaid truly suck and can almost destroy friendships. I liked it despite myself.
Tonight the Steelers play on tv so we're having pizza and taping Ice Road Truckers and Steve has asked me to tape a show after that, Bar Rescue or something like that. Tomorrow night, my Boys play but with Romo hurt, I'm anticipating the usual loss.
The dogs got me up early per usual and we were walking at 6:45. The sun was barely up and definitely hadn't broken the line of the earth. The good news is that, unlike Tug, they remember that they had a walk and if done that early they don't bug for another.
It's still freaking hot. Over 90 again. Blech. I. Want. Fall. I was promised Fall.
Much love,
PK the Bookeemonster
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