Wet January, doggy nail-biter and streak freak

Dear Curious George,

I bet THC drinks leave your mouth feeling pretty cottony, so hells yes they’re allowed. So are dry cabernets. I’ll be honest, I’ve never understood how people way back when got so creative with language that they decided to characterize anything liquid as “dry.” Also, since “dry” means “sober,” does “not sober” mean “not dry” mean “wet?” God, we better not print in the newspaper that I’m wet, or that’ll open up a whole new cask of problems.

– Decidedly moist, Rachel

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Dear Rachel,

Dear Dog Scratch Fever,

You’ve hit the nail, as it were, on the head. Or is it on the bed? Do dogs even have nail beds like we do? Anyway, I have to think that coyotes sit in their dens with nail files actually sharpening their claws, rather than wearing them down. Rabbit fur is so darn soft that it’ll slip right out from under your paws unless you have fish hooks for nails. If dirt wore down their canine death-hands to innocent little nubs, they’d starve to death. Your dogs, however wild, are not predators. Cut their nails already. 

– Scratching the surface, Rachel

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Dear Rachel,

Dear Snapple,

Is a digital cleanse month like the techie version of dry January? Because if so, you just gotta keep it analog. Take pictures with a Polaroid, then send snaps of that print via your phone, and it’s a whole lot less digital than… oh, forget it. Just go dry already. Apologize for the streak, promise you’ll cut her cat’s nails in penance, then put the phone down and run off into the desert with enough THC water to survive the apocalypse. 

– Oh snap, Rachel