Deadlines...
Can't shoot'em, can't miss'em, can't trade'em for hockey cards, can't disinfect'em.
They don't even have the half life of plutonium.
They won't go to your neighbor's house even if they have better kibble.
And they won't pick up after themselves, and they won't load the dishwasher.
But they're there, alright, hanging around...
Gotta finally meet them to make them go away.
On Mondays, they play under my bed to wake me up. Sometimes I even have to feed'em before my first cup of coffee.
Yeah, they're motivational alright.
Until the ID Channel airs a perfect murder involving them as victims, they remain. ;-)
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