Have you seen my weiner?

A lot of people think I have no shame, no internal censor. But I must: this was among the first times I'd ever worn this shirt right-side-out. I remember purchasing it while I worked at Sotheby's, and I thought it was really funny, because around that time, I was running into guys around the city who would smile lasciviously when they saw me, and greet me by name. What a slut I must have been in my youth to obviously have engaged in sexual activities with people who, years later, I wouldn't even recognize. I should have said to these people who looked at me with recognition and lust: "Have you seen my weiner?" That might have cleared things right up.

My family had a weiner dog when I was a kid, but I don't remember what happened to her. Her name was Copper. If I'm remembering correctly, my mother intuited that I loved Copper, and thus she "got rid of" the dog to punish me for something or the other. That was my mother's style: she got rid of the things I loved in order to correct my behavior. I have to say, that was an interesting tactic, but I think what it really did was teach me that nothing is forever, and give me a mortal fear of abandonment.