The Hypocritic Oath

Hello. Welcome to the Weekend Gene Pool, which is now more famous than Elvis and is approaching the fame level of Taylor whatsername. Today, as always, we ask you for personal anecdotes and observations in exchange for entertainment. The Big Question is coming up, but first, a two-part Gene Pool Gene Poll.

Okay, we’re done with that disturbing question about your shocking hypocrisy. Now, today’s requested observation.

What is the most hypocritical thing you regularly do, or have done in the past? Examples, please. Funny is good.

In my case it is eating animals. I do it. I think it is wrong. I am ashamed. Another hypocrisy I have is also animal-related. I am a recognized expert on dogs. I have written two books about dogs, and I love them. I have written many times affectionately about dogs and cats, including my idiot cat Barnaby, who once, as a one-pound kitten, managed to somehow destroy a cast-iron frying pan.

Also, he died. My point is, I can write with empathy about animals, but I eat them AND (this is the worst part) when I have obtained dogs — I do not use breeders, but shop around to kennels — I go for the gorgeous breeds. I have lived with a Samoyed, a Great Pyrenees, a yellow Lab, two Plott Hounds (an enormously magnificent breed,) and an Amazonian double yellow head parrot. Matthew the parrot was not technically a dog, but still.

I don’t frequent dog shelters. I should. I can’t bear it, but I should. It is emotional cowardice.

So, those are my hypocrisies. Tell me about yours. Be funnier than I have been, please.

Send them here.

Or here, if you prefer big orange buttons:

Also, if you insist you are completely free of hypocrisy, under oath as you are, instead of sending in confessions, you can send me money here:

Or you can comment here.