Good writers borrow, great writers steal.

I have been accused, lately, of being a blogger-slacker. But I think I might be more of a slacker-blogger. I'm a bit of a slogger. Honestly. Welcome to my slog.

And in my defense, well, I don't have a defense. Does a blogger need a defense for slacking? I hope not. My brain has just been elsewhere: TV writing, killing spiders, trying to save my suicidal plants, eating chips on the futon, cleaning up the crumbs from eating chips on the futon, watching Friday Night Lights, etc. It's a busy life. Mondays, in particular, are busy. So, I feel compelled to slack again, because I can't think of anything new to say.

That's not entirely accurate. More accurately, I don't have anything appropriate to say. I've got something kind of inappropriate I want to say. But one of the greatest challenges in my life is determining what is appropriate and what is inappropriate, and more difficult even, is deciding how inappropriate it is acceptable to be. So I think I'm just going to put a pipe in it. This time.

IN THE MEANTIME, I encourage you wholeheartedly to visit this blog to see pictures of more cute hipster puppies like Chuleta above: hipsterpuppies.tmblr.com. (I was trying to describe "hipsters" to some Idaho friends, because hipsters abound in my hometown, and I mostly just kept saying they were "ironic." Not in word, but more in deed. As in, "They drink PBR, but ironically. They wear vintage Nikes, but ironically." I think hipster puppies are so funny because dogs can be many, many wonderful things but they are entirely incapable of irony. God bless them.)