People are idiots, but the great thing is that we're all idiots in different ways. Take yesterday, I was out with Cookie on our morning walk around the neighborhood when I spotted the somewhat odd woman who hit our old dog, Katie, with her car. I cut across the street so I wouldn't have to deal with Cookie wagging and pulling and getting all friendly with her and wanting to say hello, this woman didn't need to think a foaming bulldog was trying to drag me across the street in order to seek revenge. She probably doesn't even know that the bulldog she hit died of cancer and that this new bulldog has a heart of gold and thinks cars are for sticking your head out the window and letting your jowls flappity flappity flap.

The gods had a nice chuckle at my plan, I learned, as Cookie and I turned back to head home and came around a dumpster and ran smack into Mrs. Vehicular Assault.

And here's the thing: I don't give a shit anymore. The lady's a weirdo and that's her problem. But you should have seen the way she reacted to me and Cookie, like she was going to be physically ill. She recoiled from us, then she stopped and put her hands on her knees and moaned, Oh, NO.

Like I said, we're all idiots in our own special ways, and my own personal perversity demanded that I give her a big goony smile and shout, "Hey! How ya doin'?!"

We kept right on walking, though, we didn't stick around and chat; this woman, I think she has enough problems without me making her all paranoid about something I've long since let go of. And I was pretty sure she didn't want to pet my dog.

Also! I should tell you that every Friday I'm posting about everything the Kennedys are watching on Netflix over at MamaPop.