« Nose, meet grindstone | Main | Figurines of earthly delights »

January 27, 2005



More odious than the puppy-pic: the puppy-pee paragraph....
Pam: Mr. Duchovney, excuse me, my dog needs to go out...
DD: Umm, can you direct me to the nearest Starbucks?


Anthony is reminding me that I frequently confess to having many fantasy conversations with David Duchovny. I know, however, that in real life DD would only desire me - briefly - for my knowledge of the whereabouts of the nearest coffee shop.

None of which is apropos of this post ...


Notice, that nowhere in this non-"apropos" post did I even give the slightest degree of indication as to what the exchange meant to anyone in the universe who was not either Pam or myself. So please, no one blame me for "tellng tales out of class." Besides, at least 1/3rd of the post was apropos as far as puppy particulars are concerned...
But just to be fair:

Me: Mr. Hartnett, did you really once play a 6 foot worm in a play in Minneapolis?
Josh Hartnett: Jesus, dude, who the hell told you that?


*swoon* David Duchovny!


If I could only GET the damned weenie dogs to USE the pet door when it's raining (cats & dogs).

The comments to this entry are closed.