A bird shit on me today during lunch. It was a small bird, so not much shit. That reminds me of some advice my friend Rich gave me a while ago when I was considering dog ownership and asked what kind of dog I should get.

He said, "Mike," he said, "I've got one thing to say to you. Big dog. Big shit. Little dog. Little shit."

True. Now whenever I see someone cleaning up their dog's shit and their dog is the size of Marmaduke, I always think they should have spoken to Rich and taken his advice. And then I think, I bet that dog is funnier than Marmaduke.

I pondered Rich's advice and came up with my own advice. No dog. No shit. Or just your own shit. My own shit is enough to worry about. And I don't have to follow myself around with an inside out plastic garbage bag to pick it up with. At least not anymore.

Anyway, my co-worker and pal Gena (pronounced Jenna!) was nice enough to wipe the shit off my back at lunch. That, my friends, readers, and confidantes, is a good person. What's even more amazing about it is that she cleaned it with her tongue!

I joke. She used a napkin. She always carries around a bird shit cleaning napkin.