Between the lost goats and the dog that sounds like it needs to be flushed down the toilet, there must be a title around here somewhere.

Here's my boy, getting his yellow belt:

My small camera has a lot of settings: one for portrait, one for snow, one for fireworks. There is no "rotten lighting, through a glass window, constant movement, bright primary colors on every surface" setting though. So that was the best I could do.

I love downtown. I love the light rail, and the graffiti, and the old brick buildings, and the crack heads offering to watch your car for you, and the signs.No sleeping standing in doorway. I love it! Does that mean you can sleep in the doorway if you're sitting down? What if you're slumped against the door sill? Could you sleep all curled up in the doorway lying down?

And I love the lost goats. I mean, right near the center of the fourth biggest city in the United States, people lose goats.And I love that even when we're late for the airport, my man turns right around and does a U-Turn if he sees a sign about lost goats. So that's what makes him the perfect man for me. That, of course and the fact that he enjoys songs about chickens...and whiskey.

My Sweet Pea found this book in the bargain bin of a close out store:I just can't IMAGINE why it didn't sell. I mean, I don't know what kind of euphemisms are popular in your area, but around here caca and poopoo are pretty much the same thing.

On that appetizing note I leave you with this Thanksgiving cartoon, which I've used before, but I still like:Hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving and ate a lot of big dead bird!