Itching for some ‘ban


I too have been enjoying some time outside. Leah’s been spending more time at the university, so I’ve been going home at lunch to walk Duke.

Earlier in the day, when I was still outside and enjoying life, I had the sweet and naive ambition to try and save you from becoming who I am, but then I realized that there’s never hope of saving you.

I’ll just show you what I did over my lunch hour and it sickens me—but I felt like my last letter was particularly harsh and I thought the studio audience in my head might have got the wrong idea about me and thus want to show the softer side.

That’s pronounced:

Mai Poo-KEY, Whew-KEY, Do-KEY

How cute am I? And, just as important, how cute is he!? And that leads you to this picture:

So here’s how my lunch hour broke down:

  • 20 minutes to drive home
  • 15 minutes to walk Duke (5 minutes spent taking cute pictures and making cutesy noises at Duke)
  • 3 minutes to cook ichiban
  • 1.25 minutes to eat
  • 45 seconds to write this letter (in my head)
  • 20 minutes to drive back to work

I wanted to save you from a pathetic life of loving your pets too much. But I can’t. Because I know you love Finnegan way too much. It’s creepy. The obvious thing to do here is make a peanut butter joke, but I’m not going there. Nope, nope, nope.

Pets are wonderful and the ichiban is always the same.


P.S. Is it sad that we’ve written maybe 40 letters total and this is, I’m pretty sure, my second—if not third—reference to a lunch of ichiban.


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