I feel horrible about writing this, and even worse that it happened. The person in this story is perfectly nice and loved by many but just doesn't fit in with my very limited social skills. Since this is one of my adventures in sarcasm here it goes.
The other day I was walking past the door step of a nemesis of mine when I started pondering. I have an age old quandary. If I ever had a little dog that went places it wasn't supposed to go and it doodled on a nemesis' doorstep, would I pick it up? I like to think that I'm the kind of person that would do so even if the doorstep owner had blown me air kisses. (If you are thinking that Sarakastic doesn't seem like the kind of person to respond well to air kisses you are correct.) In this situation I thought it was for the best that I don't have a little dog.
The next day I was passing the door again early in the morning. I noticed on the mat was a large pile of cat poo. I wondered for a second what the proper protocol was. I didn't have anything to bag it. Plus, it was early so it wasn't like I could ring the bell and say "hey jump over your doormat when you go outside". I seem to have manifested cat poo & for that I feel guilty. That is exactly why sarcastic people shouldn't be allowed to read The Secret.