First of all, some TMI about my dogs. If you're a smidge fussy or easily grossed out, skip to the next paragraph. If you like sophomoric dog-related humor, read on. Ella Bean, my Basset, is a little mommy hound. She'd probably had a litter or two of puppies before she ended up at a shelter and came to live at my house. She's spayed now, but still has very mothering instincts, so she acts them out on Mugzy, the Boxer. She likes to lick his eyes and face and then licks his butt. It's insane, and of course, I just watch it. Boxers are somewhat well-known for their flatulent tendencies, and just a moment ago, Ella was tending to Mugzy's cornhole when he audibly pooted one. She yelped and jumped back. Mugzy can remind me of Cartman on "South Park" in that episode where he was afflicted with flaming farts. Was that when the aliens had the probe up his butt?

I haven't watched South Park in a long time, but I fondly remember the show where the boys went over to Afganistan, and the U.S. military thought that a goat was really Stevie Nicks. They believed that she'd come over to do a USO show. They were chasing after the goat yelling: "Oh, Miss Nicks! Oh Miss Nicks!" I have insisted for years that cocaine turned Stevie into a goat. There is yell-singing (Michael Bolton) and mumble singing (Tom Waits or Rickie Lee Jones, and I love them, BTW) and then there is bleating, and that is Stevie Nicks. For all you Stevie fans, sorry, she once had a beautiful, clear, bell-like voice, but that was a long-ass time ago. I'm shocked that sheep herding dogs don't come rushing after her when she starts singing. I better stop before the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Stevie Nicks comes after me.

I will update anyone who might still be reading this far, that my coworker is still addled by the smell of Snake Oil. He is convinced there are pure pheromones in it. I also had a woman nearly crawl out of a ticket-taker window at a parking garage, because when I rolled down my car window to pay for parking, she got a whiff of the Snake Oil. She was bug-eyed and yelling "WHAT IS THAT? I LOVE IT!" Good grief. Well, at least they aren't crying, the way that I get all misty-eyed when I sniff Dorian. Beth didn't call her business Black Phoenix Alchemy Laboratory for just any old reason. She brews up some powerful stuff.