Job and I are Friends!

Ok, no boils here. Superman, the Boy Wonder, and Chuck Norris are all still alive and kicking (roundhouse style). My friends still like me - despite my charming personality. I've still got my cattle - my canine cattle. I have a place to live and food to eat - not like I would waste away anytime soon without something to eat. I have food storage and I carry it with me.

No, I don't have it quite as bad as my friend, Job, but... things are a bit scary around here lately.

Yesterday, Superman called me from his lead-lined office cubicle at the Daily Planet to inform me that he was coming home. Seems that with the economy headed south, there isn't room for more than just a few super heroes in the area, and Batman and the Green Hornet got here first. Last in, first out - that's the motto. So Superman had to go. Anyone looking to hire a middle-aged super hero?

This morning, as I was getting ready to enjoy a relaxing day at home (the first Saturday in quite a while), I decided that I would totally blow my back out. Seemed like a good idea at the time. However, after careful reflection while lying on the living room floor screaming my head off, I realized that it was not the smartest move in the world. I will be best friends with my Tempurpedic for a while and will have a wide variety of lovely drugs on my bed-side table from which to choose. This is good news for you though, cuz I can still type and tell you all about it. Aren't you feeling lucky?!

It's not all bad though. Since Superman doesn't have to go to work on Monday, he can take care of the flocks and herds while I lie about eating bon bons and Vicoden and watching Hulu.com all day long. I hope everyone survives. (Just kidding about the bon bons. I like Junior Mints better!)

(Some days I wish Superman would find a back healing crystal in that Fortress of Solitute. Why didn't his super dad think of that? huh!!!?)