bending the ear of a most gracious fen.

i was raised to be a winner, but i lost, in little league i was the strikeout king, i could not strike out, even with the silly distraction of a spider monkey leaping from shoulder to shoulder in the laughing crowd. i don't know why i think of that, being scantily employed walking dogs perhaps. nevermind.

and because the radio is talking about winners and losers and what it truly means to win, and the paradoxical of being a loser, and dignity and stuff, and then i'm singing along with the song on the radio, i'm winnin', i'm winnin', i'm winni-in', and i don't intend, on losin' again,  fen.

oh one more thing columbo, if you don't see it, you assume nothing happened, and you know it did. (you don't have to make sense talking to a dog, they understand, and appreciate inflection.