Mr B's B'day

The dog is barking. Again. If we were to be intruded upon by those perculiar portions of society who trade in your hard earned household items at the local pub for smack money, then the dog would probably just piss on their foot. Lachy is 12 today. To celebrate this event he found in a large sock a car that sucks on batteries, carrys handcuffs and announces is a loud voice "pull over driver" and annoys the dog. The RC car is a 1/14th scale which makes it about the same size as the dog, and hits about 200kmph scale speed - no wonder the dog barks. If only the dog knew that a well aimed piddle would silence the car forever - could also be why he chooses to piss on my foot regularly. Quite a smart dog really, given that he doesn't actually have a brain.

I have a friend admitted to a psychiatric ward at present and have tried to visit him on four occasions but not actually seen him. Went down the first time and he was asleep, the second time was meal time, the third time it wasn't visiting hours, and the last time he had gone for a walk with his wife. Maybe its an omen - I'll probably try again. I've been a long term semi-regular reader of the weblog belonging to the real live preacher. The guy is unusual, from a long line of depression sufferers who wears his heart firmly stitched to his left cuff. As a preacher he has questioned every aspect of his own spirituality - from caring for his flock to perhaps believing in God. I've always known that you need to talk with a lisp to be a speech pathologist, you need a borderline personality disorder with a sad family history to be a social worker, and now it's obvious that a bipolar mind living in disassociated agnostic theism makes for a practical pastor. I think I was cut out to be a librarian. Go figure.