We  were having a discussion the other night (and by “we” I mean mrs TBogg and myself, not the dogs who rarely have anything interesting to add to the conversation) about the fact that the there is so much less hair that needs to be vacuumed up in this post-Beckham era that we are living in. For the last two years Beckham was shedding hair like Larry King sheds golddiggers and it seemed like teh hardwood floors of our house had become the dust bunny burial ground. We have the Dyson Animal (a vacuum cleaner that cost more than my first car but is more powerful) and even it was starting to complain about the workload. Nowadays Fenway seems to never shed while Wembley only throws off really fine black hair which is easily manageable.

This conversation, which passes for hawt sexytime talk when you’ve been married for more than twenty five years, led us both to admit that, although we both miss Beckham terribly, the Fenway/Wembley Axis of Puppiness has made the loss easier to live with than I would have thought. Needless to say, we both feel very guilty about this so we’re thinking about becoming Catholic or Jewish, whichever one will have us, so it won’t go to waste.

I didn’t have anything good this week, so this will have to do