I come across a
brilliant pretty good familiar piece of writing on the Internet. But I don't recognize the site. How did my essay get transported in its entirety to a website I don't work for?
The next thing I know, Mr. K has fired off an e-mail of his own, only his is less polite and carries a rocket-launched payload.
Now I have to get him to stand down so that I can resolve this in my own well-mannered fashion. Which will take twice as long, but whatever.
"You are such a bulldog," I tell him. "It's turning me on a little. But stop."
He replies: "You can't just invite me to help and then command me to heel. Although that turns me on a little."
I am so getting that guy a leash and a collar. But just for fun.
from the suburban man archives: Sh*% your Ken doll says