It’s 8 am and the dog has forced me to go to the park. Where a rooster is crowing, the breeze is kicking, and salt is in the air.
And this jerk is prancing around like he got restful sleep (he didn’t. No one on my floor did – the asshole dog down the hall decided to freak the F out all night long).
Dogs, man. All it took was moving by a quiet park for my grumpums of an old man to feel like a pup again.