I started a secret friend club in facebook. I had no idea I was doing this. First I started private club. By mistake. Then I upgraded it to a secret one. Also by mistake. You’re probably not a member if you have ever had sex with vegetables or whatever it is you do in Farmville.

Later, the same day, I broke Gustavo’s running dogwalk. By mistake.

Although, it could have been him, not me. He’s the one supposed to touch the paint.

I think that we need to keep an eye on facebook. Just like you watch that yellow paint when your dog’s feet run through it. Very, very closely.

With a squinty, flintlock stare. The trick is, don’t take your eyes off the yellow. Or Mark Zuckerberg.

Here’s the thing, I didn’t mean to start a secret club. Just like I didn’t mean for him to out of the blue start jumping over the yellow. From the blue. Gustavo. Not Mark Zuckerberg. But shit happens.

Running contacts, like social media. Neat-o. At first. Then, later on, you’re all, oh crap. Total demise of civilization as we know it. You bury your head in your hands for a second. Then go back to watching closely, and running fast wherever possible.

I found an old shirt under the seat of my old truck from the ’90’s. I guess that makes it vintage now. I washed it. I wore it. Turns out, not only is it vintage, it glows in the dark. Damn. I think sitting under the seat of the truck for 14 years made it radioactive.

So, bummer about facebook and bummer about running dogwalk breakage, but super excellent on the glow in the dark t-shirt front.

The truck, where I found the shirt, it limped away to it’s new home. Where maybe, they’re putting it to sleep. Water leaked in the sides. And it had rust holes. Grass was growing under it. It was broken. No longer neat-o. All used up. Out to pasture.

Not always a bad place to be.