Do you think I'm next?
Don at TalkCanada did a great job yesterday tracking the bulls, boars and roosters.
It seems while I was out enjoying yet another spectacular autumn afternoon, Warren Kinsella was tossing threatening legal letters around blogland.
His motivation remains fuzzy but I'm a little worried. I called him a tit last week. Do ya think I might be next?
There's a reason we castrate livestock down here on the farm. They paw and prance, bawl and beller, and peck each others feathers out if we don't.
The Bastard on the Couch
I was poking around over at the Tyee and found the essay, my Problem With Her Anger. It's an excerpt from The Bastard on the Couch: 27 Men Try Really Hard to Explain Their Feelings About Love, Loss, Fatherhood, and Freedom.
It's funny and sad and honest and sorta disturbing. I think it's about unrealistic expectations and I'm also pretty sure that some of the people who posted comments have never been married.
I remember, as a new mother, being told that babies are like the gear box on a standard car - tough enough to learn to drive on. I suppose the same thing could be said about marriage except some people can tolerate that grinding noise better than others.