Stuff you Bret stuff you Jemaine

Before I moved here I made a list of things I wanted to do and some of them seemed pretty far-fetched. One was to get lost and another was to walk a different way to work every day. GOOD NEWS apparently I'm great at doing the first thing subconsciously, which forces me to always take an unexpected route not only to work, but everywhere I go.

This morning while I was lost AND trying a new route I saw two wienie dogs (I hate that word but I hate trying to spell their real name even more) attack a sheepdog.

“Those are cute dogs,” I told their human companion (this is the hip new politically-correct term for “owner”) as she wiped the blood off their mouths (joking). “They think they’re tough.” she answered. Is there more to being tough than thinking you’re tough? I hope not. I’m tough.

Also while lost and on an adventure I saw a woman at Starbucks get in a fight with the manager because he couldn’t take the sausage out of the chicken sausage in her sandwich to make it just a chicken sandwich. Sausage is the noun and chicken is the adjective, ma’am. It’s like trying to take the dog out of a sheepdog so you can walk a sheep around town, stirring up trouble. Only scientists and linguists are trained for difficult tasks like these.