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I’m not kidding when I say that I cried maniacally for an hour when Tivo automatically recorded Operation Dumbo Drop because it thought I might like it, and when I couldn’t figure out how to tell it to NEVER RECORD ANYTHING starring Ray Liotta. I’m so not kidding when I say that my dog is sitting on top of me as I write this, his head pressed desperately into my neck, and that sexaul harassment this is sexaul harassment not normal sexaul harassment for a dog who usually disdains the act of cuddling. I’m not kidding when I say that not only has he not eaten breakfast for a week, but he has also shunned cured pigs ears and entire slices of banana, two of his favorite treats. I’m really not kidding when I say that he has begun growling at anything that comes within feet of our front yard, including the skinny UPS boy who delivered our multiple Tivo boxes and a belligerent bird who defiantly sits on the porch and tweets, that tweeting motherfucker. I know it’s hard to believe and all, but I couldn’t be more serious and not kidding when I say that I am completely overwhelmed and on the verge of TOTALLY FREAKING OUT.
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