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“I really shouldn’t be this happy,” Ron said to his best friend as they strolled contentedly through the park toward the bar where they liked to drink Guinness on Friday afternoons, “my wife is older, my whiskey comes in plastic bottles, I barely have beer money, and my horse… well, it’s a minivan and not fast at all.”

March 1, 2006 at 2:02 PM ::

On being asked how I was enjoying life with my then new cat, I told my friend, “I thought I was happy before we had her, but it turns out I wasn’t.  I don’t think I even knew what happiness was before being owned by a parasite and feces encrusted feral cat.”

mercuryfern on 03/02/06 at 07:38 PM ::

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