Hal Gates: I didn’t understand why people care so much about their dumb dogs until I got a dumb dog myself. I’ve only had Billy for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.
Last night my best friend stayed over, slept in my bed as usual. I’ve been unwell and haven’t been sleeping so I took an ambien my doc gave me for this situation.
I can remember at one point lying there all sleepy thinking:
I’m made of electricity and meat… So my brain is just a meat computer… Computers run more efficiently when they have a fan… Because they’re cooler… I’d be more efficient if I were cooler… I should get cooler…
But, uh. When I woke up in the morning my friend was laughing his ass off, apparently what really happened was that I mumbled the words “meat computer” a bunch of times, took all my fucking clothes off and passed out.
The other day I answered the door to my postman. I was signing for stuff, like you do, when my kid came downstairs with only his underwear and a t-shirt on.
Now, the postman couldn’t see him from the front door, and I scribbled my signature and said, to my son, “You need to put some trousers on.”
My postman, very slowly, looked down at his trouser-clad legs with a mixture of confusion and horror, and then looked back up at me.
When I explained I was talking to my little boy out of his line of sight, he gave a very solemn nod and said: “I thought I’d put trousers on this morning, but suddenly when you said that, I really wasn’t sure.”
Years after this, I still have the same postman. He still always wears trousers, but every time I answer the door, I’m pretty sure we both remember this incident.
Meg's Mumbles 