I Confess

I confess, I know a bit about adultery.  My master has a little something on the side (see the “about” page on this blog).  He’s Latin, Italian to be exact, and he’s a man.  Two and two often make three: The infidel, the mistress and the wife. Reference: Silvio Berlusconi (well, in his case the sum may have been more than three.)

I can identify with straying, though I firmly believe infidelity should include no more than a cursory bark and sniff. This, by the way, does not employ tweeting, emailing or texting but the use of the eyes, the nose and the voice-box only.

Fortunately, most Latin males who stray may gain easy absolution via Catholic confession. This satisfies not only the priest’s appreciation for a bawdy story but the offender’s guilt, as well.

Would that it were so easy.

Absolution is more difficult to gain at home, I’ve found.  It is not always true that is is easier to get forgiveness than permission.

Thankfully, dogs are speechless.  Otherwise, we would perpetually be in the confessional, let alone the dog-house.

Given the propensity for adultery among Latins, one wonders why the church hasn’t gone automated WAY before now:

Note to self: Enunciation is important—in any language.

Chow.