e fun on dates.) Upon entering the theater, I mentioned I needed to visit the restroom. DP said we should find our seats first. So he led me into the theater, one of the bigger rooms in the huge new 37-screen Multiplex, and he scanned the area. We walked in, down the corridor. We turned to the right. We crossed over the entire length of the theatre. We went up the stairs on the other side. And we began our ascent. Up, up, up. Eventually we reached an altitude of staggering heights. Then we turned right to find seats close enough to the mI received an email today that said I could: "Make 500-10k from your living room," which I find to be an amazing claim, seeing as how I'm here, in my living room, making whatever hourly rate it is I charge for whatever it is I'm doing at this moment, and yet the living room itself is of no help in this regard. I could be making money in another room altogether. I could be, assuming my cables would stretch that far, in my bed inputting numbers into my laptop and still be making money. (Believe me, it sounds like far more fun than it is, and is not nearly as profitable as one might think.)

The living room itself is not really doing anything to earn any money, but gosh, I think wistfully, if only my living room could make 500-10k all by itself... (I'm not sure what the range suggests, perhaps that some living rooms are more ambitious than others, and therefore work harder, and make more money?) I have found that with my particular living room, the more I leave it alone, the less inclined it is to earn any money at all. In fact, I think I have one of the laziest living rooms on the planet. It does nothing for me whatsoever. It just sits here, like a big empty room, waiting for me to do something first. I'm opposed to this on the grounds that I already pay the rent, what more does it want?

I have the same problem with the Dog. She's a great dog, as far as dogs go. But has anyone else noticed that as far as dogs go is only as far as is convenient for them? Try putting a dog to work, see how far that gets you. My dog, like my living room, has little ambition in life, other than sleep, eat, play, chase cats, capture possums, beg for food, go for car rides, and catch the occasional movie.

So far, she has been unsuccessful at the last. It's just as well, since she'd change seats at least three times during the movie, which I find rather disturbing. Not disturbing in the disturbing sense, but in the sense that she'd probably disturb me by making me move with her each time. I like to find my seat, and stay there for the duration.

We went to see a movie the other day. (Not me and Dog, me and domestic partner, who is much more fun on dates.) Upon entering the theater, I mentioned I needed to visit the restroom. DP said we should find our seats first. So he led me into the theater, one of the bigger rooms in the huge new 37-screen Multiplex, and he scanned the area. We walked in, down the corridor. We turned to the right. We crossed over the entire length of the theatre. We went up the stairs on the other side. And we began our ascent. Up, up, up. Eventually we reached an altitude of staggering heights. Then we turned right to find seats close enough to the mi

nd is not nearly as profitable as one might think.)

The living room itself is not really doing anything to earn any money, but gosh, I think wistfully, if only my living room could make 500-10k all by itself... (I'm not sure what the range suggests, perhaps that some living rooms are more ambitious than others, and therefore work harder, and make more money?) I have found that with my particular living room, the more I leave it alone, the less inclined it is to earn any money at all. In fact, I think I have one of the laziest living rooms on the planet. It does nothing for me whatsoever. It just sits here, like a big empty room, waiting for me to do something first. I'm opposed to this on the grounds that I already pay the rent, what more does it want?

I have the same problem with the Dog. She's a great dog, as far as dogs go. But has anyone else noticed that as far as dogs go is only as far as is convenient for them? Try putting a dog to work, see how far that gets you. My dog, like my living room, has little ambition in life, other than sleep, eat, play, chase cats, capture possums, beg for food, go for car rides, and catch the occasional movie.

So far, she has been unsuccessful at the last. It's just as well, since she'd change seats at least three times during the movie, which I find rather disturbing. Not disturbing in the disturbing sense, but in the sense that she'd probably disturb me by making me move with her each time. I like to find my seat, and stay there for the duration.

We went to see a movie the other day. (Not me and Dog, me and domestic partner, who is much more fun on dates.) Upon entering the theater, I mentioned I needed to visit the restroom. DP said we should find our seats first. So he led me into the theater, one of the bigger rooms in the huge new 37-screen Multiplex, and he scanned the area. We walked in, down the corridor. We turned to the right. We crossed over the entire length of the theatre. We went up the stairs on the other side. And we began our ascent. Up, up, up. Eventually we reached an altitude of staggering heights. Then we turned right to find seats close enough to the m

g rooms on the planet. It does nothing for me whatsoever. It just sits here, like a big empty room, waiting for me to do something first. I'm opposed to this on the grounds that I already pay the rent, what more does it want?

I have the same problem with the Dog. She's a great dog, as far as dogs go. But has anyone else noticed that as far as dogs go is only as far as is convenient for them? Try putting a dog to work, see how far that gets you. My dog, like my living room, has little ambition in life, other than sleep, eat, play, chase cats, capture possums, beg for food, go for car rides, and catch the occasional movie.

So far, she has been unsuccessful at the last. It's just as well, since she'd change seats at least three times during the movie, which I find rather disturbing. Not disturbing in the disturbing sense, but in the sense that she'd probably disturb me by making me move with her each time. I like to find my seat, and stay there for the duration.

We went to see a movie the other day. (Not me and Dog, me and domestic partner, who is much more fun on dates.) Upon entering the theater, I mentioned I needed to visit the restroom. DP said we should find our seats first. So he led me into the theater, one of the bigger rooms in the huge new 37-screen Multiplex, and he scanned the area. We walked in, down the corridor. We turned to the right. We crossed over the entire length of the theatre. We went up the stairs on the other side. And we began our ascent. Up, up, up. Eventually we reached an altitude of staggering heights. Then we turned right to find seats close enough to the m

ase cats, capture possums, beg for food, go for car rides, and catch the occasional movie.

So far, she has been unsuccessful at the last. It's just as well, since she'd change seats at least three times during the movie, which I find rather disturbing. Not disturbing in the disturbing sense, but in the sense that she'd probably disturb me by making me move with her each time. I like to find my seat, and stay there for the duration.

We went to see a movie the other day. (Not me and Dog, me and domestic partner, who is much more fun on dates.) Upon entering the theater, I mentioned I needed to visit the restroom. DP said we should find our seats first. So he led me into the theater, one of the bigger rooms in the huge new 37-screen Multiplex, and he scanned the area. We walked in, down the corridor. We turned to the right. We crossed over the entire length of the theatre. We went up the stairs on the other side. And we began our ascent. Up, up, up. Eventually we reached an altitude of staggering heights. Then we turned right to find seats close enough to the m

e fun on dates.) Upon entering the theater, I mentioned I needed to visit the restroom. DP said we should find our seats first. So he led me into the theater, one of the bigger rooms in the huge new 37-screen Multiplex, and he scanned the area. We walked in, down the corridor. We turned to the right. We crossed over the entire length of the theatre. We went up the stairs on the other side. And we began our ascent. Up, up, up. Eventually we reached an altitude of staggering heights. Then we turned right to find seats close enough to the middle to be acceptable. And he sat. And I, I realize, am now a good half mile from the nearest restroom. At least. I have been led on the most winding and torturous path possible simply because it amused him to do so.

So while I was out I got popcorn and a big cup of a dark sweet liquid. (I've given up asking for Pepsi or Coke, since whichever I ask for is bound to be replaced by the other.)

My living room is staring at me in frustration, wondering why I'm not making any money at the moment. I wonder that too. I suppose I must get back to it.