HANG ON. I'VE GOT A BAG OF DOG SHIT IN MY HAND.

Okay--this is not something I would utter on an every day basis. But it was true. A professional colleague called me on my cell phone after I was home and I was doing dog poop patrol. I had just come inside so that I could go to the garage to put it in the trash--which was being picked up the next day. My cell was ringing crazily, so I answered it with Hi--hang on. I've got a bag of dog shit in my hand.

After I threw the bag into the garbage can, I got back on the phone. My colleague said "You know, I don't think I've ever been told that before." Well, he just hasn't caught anyone in their backyard cleaning up dog poop yet. Pretty much, there are no secrets in my brain. Most people know exactly what I am thinking at any given time.

I got a picture of the Ugly Loser Monkey and I will post it hopefully sometime this weekend. I'm thinking of giving an Ugly Loser Monkey award to the various assmonkeys that I encounter in my life. When I post the ULM pic, I will tell the story of how the ULM came to be. The thing actually gives me the creeps.