When is a fin not a fin?

When it is a "dol-phin."

Is that supposed to pass as a joke? I'm sorely disappointed in the jokes that come on my popsicle sticks. (The popsicles themselves: cream of the crop!) (Plus--whoo! It's popsicle season again! Time to turn my urine red with Red #5!) Another stupid joke: "Q: Where do bunnies save their computer files?" "A: On "hoppy" disks!" But why not "floppy disks," since bunnies are known for their floppy as much as they are known for their hoppy? What utter bullshit.

And then I write a blog entry overflows the special cup I reserve for self-hatred. Wasting your time and mine, Amy O.

I'm sitting here getting all sentimental because I had too much alcohol over the last few days. It's really making me miss 1999, when I was a really big twat to almost everyone I loved. I'm also missing 1987, when I ought to have accepted the Fudgsicle that Erin Norcia offered me; politesse required otherwise but I periodically think of that Fudgsicle and curse politesse. I'm also a reserving a seat at the table for 1991, 1996, and 2002. Can anyone offer an alternative plot to "About Schmidt"? I'm writing a short story that is inadvertantly turning into an "old white man takes a detour" narrative. This is so shitty. Sorry.