Three things today, I’ll make the first two quick.

Anyone born before say — 1967 — should NOT attempt to use a cell phone and drive. The law of averages says that you didn’t grow up with call waiting or anything else that involved true multi-tasking. Don’t tax yourself. Old dogs + new tricks = doesn’t fucking work. Please, I beg you, at least if you’re in front of me on the road…don’t talk and drive.

Next, an open letter to the ladies. Seat covers were invented for a reason. Use them. Especially at the office (as opposed to a seedy bar) do not fucking hover and leave your DNA on the seat. Also, if the suction of the commode isn’t all it should be, there’s far less shame in flushing twice than leaving a present behind for me to discover. Alright?

On to a much happier and much furrier (is that a word?) topic: Miss Dixie! Last week, Kyle brought home what I’ll continue to refer to as his daughter. He likes to fight me on it because she’ll be a huntin’ dog when he goes to his place in Mississippi with the guys to shoot at stuff that flies. Either way, she’s adorable. Pictures of the Princess and her buddy Goose follow…