It makes me sad. I’ll think of something funny and will write a quick Facebook post about it, then I’ll delete it before pushing the button. Invariably I can think of how someone could turn it into a conflict of some kind, or misunderstand my words and take something personally. I hate conflict. I truly do.

I’d be more apt to go to a gym if their commercials showed fat, middle-aged, sweaty folks like myself struggling through an exercise rather than peppy, 120-pound teenagers bouncing off the walls, grinning the whole time.

Also, if they’d move the gym closer to my house, that would help. Like, in my living room. I get winded if I have to walk much farther than that.

Oh, and none of this matters as I’ll never go to a gym anyway, ever.

If you’re selling puppies for two hundred dollars each on facebook for the fourth time in less than a year because “it was an accident the mom got pregnant again before i could get her spaded,” expect to get some flack from people who, you know, love dogs. And can spell “spayed.”

You can’t keep that poor mother pregnant forever, you’re killing her. You know how this happens. Give your dog a break!