Sex And The Poopy Dogs

I’m baaaack. One staggeringly tiring overnight bus ride later (the last 3 hours of which were next to a wheezing lummox with bad B.O.) and I am back in my office in Ottawa, underslepy and underfed. However, I did make a gargantuan career decision today, which I will not share with you for another two months.

You know what’s funny/annoying/interesting about New York in 2006? Every other woman between the ages of 30 and 45 owns an annoying, over-groomed yappy dog. They don’t seem to walk these dogs, but rather heft them along like nursing babies. Makes me wonder how all the ubiquitous dog shit manifests: do the owners hold the dogs’ rear ends away from them at waist height? The bloody things don’t seem to ever be on the ground!

Another annoying thing is the city’s persistent obsession with Sex And The City. Yes, it was a great show. Yes, it was a great New York show. But you know what? It ended two years ago. Yet, so many women whom I met in New York last week still wanted to talk about the show and discuss which character most resembles themselves. The TVs were even hyping a “Let’s Talk About Sex And The City” show, which is apparently about the actors talking about the clothes they wore on set and how often they used the toilet between takes.

I think it’s official: Sex And The City is Star Trek for chicks.

Now let’s talk about something serious:

“One Israeli writer has already noted the obvious — that Israel’s over-the-top attacks on Gaza have nothing to do with trying to get one soldier freed from his kidnappers, who are apparently a small group of militants. Destroying bridges and a power plant, which means no clean water or sewage for 700,000 people, is just a dress rehearsal for Israel’s long-term plan to drive the Palestinians out of Palestine.” –Charley Reese