Calling all amateur animal psychologists.
“My cat Johnny takes pleasure in dropping his toy mice in the dog’s water bowl,” wrote Terri Nelson. “I’m not sure if he is drowning them, likes the challenge of fishing them back out or just likes to bug the dog.”
What’s your theory?
Herd on the street: “Your challenge re: a collective name for Outbacks seems to have captured the local imagination,” wrote Mike Cain. “Looking at our three corgis last week a friend declared a multiplicity thereof should be known as ‘a chaos.’ Not sure that reflects well on our dog management/handling skills, but it’s somehow appropriate.”
Where you do your best thinking: “Something about the drone and mindless repetition of mowing the lawn seems to free my mind,” wrote Tom Zysk. “Some might then argue that winters result in subpar thinking for me since I don’t own a snowblower.”
Today’s Slice question: I was telling a couple of friends about a man I know in another part of the country who has a job that involves listening to customer feedback about his company.
Unfailingly, in conversations with me, he refers to these customers as, well, a certain phrase having to do with feminine hygiene.
Inelegant certainly. And perhaps indicative of the possibility he might be miscast in his sounding-board role.
But my friends found this amusing, partly because my far-away acquaintance works in an industry that prides itself on caring about its customers.
So anyway, the conversation proceeded and one of my friends came up with an idea. If yours truly wanted a personalized put-down, I could refer to someone as a Slice bag.
To be clear, that absolutely would not be applicable to my readers. Well, not to the vast majority at any rate. But we never really did pin down just what sort of offense, attitudinal or behavioral, would earn someone that label.
So I’m turning to you for suggestions. What would someone have to do to merit being called a Slice bag?