Wetmachine and dog walk into a bar. . .

So this guy walks into a bar with his dog. Puts the dog up on a barstool. Barkeep sez, “get that dog outta here.”

Guy sez, “Hey, this dog can talk.”
— “Go on.”
— “No really, he can talk. If he talks will you buy us a beer?”
— “Sure, if your dog can talk I’ll buy yz a beer.”
Dog don’t say nothin’. Pants, looks around, licks his balls.
—  “Get out.”
Guy sez, “You gotta ask him something!”

Barkeep thinks for a second. “OK. Who is the greatest baseball player of all time?”
Dog don’t say nothin. Keeps on saying nothin.

Barkeep throws the guy & dog out on their asses into the gutter.
Dog looks at the guy.

“Whuhdayathink? DiMaggio?”

The point of the story is, the dog was thinking. Thinking takes time. It may look like you’re doing nothing when you’re thinking, but actually you’re thinking.

So I think that that must be what’s going on here at Wetmachine, where the frequency of postings seems to have fallen to a new postdiluvian low recently.

I can’t speak for the other Wetmachiners, but in my case it’s kinda true. I have a bunch of stuff in the cogitator, mostly about publishing. It’s bound to come out eventually. So stay tuned, and maybe, if you feel like it, while you’re waiting for us, put on the radio this evening and listen to a baseball game. And have a beer if you feel like it. (It’s on me — if your dog can talk.)