Aww… Lookit Sisco the cat. Not sure what he got out of such close proximity to my boots. But on the udder foot*, who could resist the odiferous charms of my Wolverines? I, for one, spend most evenings huffing my soul out and softening the resulting edge by consuming dishes full of Tostito Scoops and Salso**.      Gazing fondly at my foot coverings, I am once again struck by the notion that if I could bottle this stuff, I’d make a fortune. I don’t have time for the marketing effort, however, as this boot won’t huff itself.

    In other news: Vlad, a nice Romanian fellow who works for me, has had a baby son named Zanzuto. He’s at home right now, the beneficiary of genetic coupling with his wife Viorella. He is also enjoying a pile of perfectly re-usable baby supplies Riley has indicated either a declining interest in or has proven to no longer match the scale to which they were designed.
     Enjoy the baby food carousel, wind-up swing, baby chocks****, dog-eared copy of ‘What To Expect in the First Year,’ Bumbo seat, and collapsible bassinet*****, Mircea. See you next week… probably.

    In other animal young news, my company president, John Holmes, has adopted a golden retriever puppy named Leyla. We gave him no supplies, as none of our young were recently puppies.

* Also known as a mammaropod
** a more masculine salsa. I’m a MAN, god-damn it, and I will not eat like a Latina***.
*** Latino is the male form, you monolinguists.
**** They keep the baby from rolling. What else would you all them? Heather has a word, but I’ve forgotten it in a fit of rebellion.
***** You would think it would be hard to confuse one of these with a collapsible bayonet, but yet there it was.