Saga of the Pet Rock

So what's up with you? Anybody remember the Pet Rock craze way back?  Yeah, I remember it well - made some bucks for someone's great perception of people's emotions. There was a "special" rock dressed up as a baby or another character in a fancy box. My favorite was the macho  man with some chest hair creativily peeking out. Well there was a claim of rock power like crystals but nothing good happenend to me. I was ahead $20 BEFORE I bought the damn thing. OK, since I owned a piece of the country, I figured that it should be a  once-in-a-lifetime chance to have a perfect pet of my very own. My "guy" never needs to be fed or walked, is completely toilet-trained. He is the ideal pet boyfriend/husband/partner. He always listen to you and never talks back - in fact he never says anything at all. I just had to give him a proper name. How about  " Rocky Roady" or "Sporty Rocky" (worn out by Monday  morning) or best "Rocky- the- Great"? In any case, he's still sitting on his red cushion under some junk in my drawer.
      On politically incorrect (and sensitive) words - *Where is it written that everyone on this earth must do things exactly like you do?  * Who the hell told you that you're always right?  No one....Nowhere - that's who.
      So how is your diet-thing going these days OK?  Making the moves? good for you. I'm proud of you. I'll be checking on you again so don't give up.
       A little thing I've always wondered about living in Japan: Wearing an expensive kimono and western style underpants, trying to use a Japanese type toilet - just as bad as using any toilet wearing a one-piece ski suit.
                                See you again..... Mountain Mama encased in a rubber diving suit.