Pricks

I was walking Rudy at the beach this morning.  He was jerking on the leash, so I jerked him a little, and I stabbed myself in the thumb with a cactus.  It's kind of funny, because when we first passed by the cacti, I told Rudy that those were prickers and he didn't want to get stabbed by them.  I guess he showed me.

Then, later, I was trimming the nonflowering bougainvillea.  I had Rudy hooked to the house with the three leashes.  That was just enough lead so he could go a little onto the grass if he wanted or needed.

So, when I was trimming the bougainvillea, of course he wanted to "help".  He was all in it.  Once again, I tried to pull the trimmings away from Rudy, so he wouldn't get pricked, and I pricked my hand.

Figures.

Rudy is a prick.

Not really, he's just a puppy.  Just a puppy who kept challenging Stinksy's right to lay on the bed.  Rudy kept jumping on the bed and barking at Stinksy, but Stinksy held his ground.

In other happenings of the day, I put my bra on backwards.  How is that possible?  I wear mostly sports bras.  They are easier for work, and you can get a 3 pack for cheap at Walmart or Target.  And, my bra size is always sold out when I'm looking for the more traditional cup bra.  So, also, I swear my tits are shrinking.  Like, if it weren't for my pointy nipples, I wouldn't ever bother with a bra.  Anyway, I had my swimsuit on this afternoon.  And I needed to go to the store, so I had to change.  I just threw some clothes on.  Later, I went to change for the evening walk with Rudy, I noticed that the bra was on backwards when I looked in the mirror.  So, obviously, it didn't even feel weird.  Why even bother with a bra?