That farmer had a fun dog. I was over at FoxyBingo and realized that I am an obnoxious bingo player who benefits from playing it online. I benefit because the only one I bother when I win is my cat. True, she can scratch, but she can’t kick me out of the game. She can’t glare at me and distract me from hearing numbers either. Some of those glares come with actual waves that can shake your ink hand.

It’s not enough to win and yell “BINGO!”, either. You have to do the little bingo dance, which includes waving the card in a manner that suggests you’re trying to direct traffic. Then you smugly claim your prize and glow in the effects of having beaten everybody in the room at a game that involves nothing but random chance. I still like to think there’s some sort of skill in random chance games. I credit myself fully when I win. Surly it was the way I moved the mouse, or heard the numbers or … something. Give credit even where it isn’t due. It’s good for self esteem.

And lets face it, we start off playing bingo when we’re kids and, if we’re lucky, we can still play it when we’re ninety years old. It’s one of those games that can last a lifetime and still be cool because prizes are involved. If there were prizes involved in Go Fish, we would still be playing that too.

Of course, I don’t believe in an age limit when it comes to toys. I want a set of Tinker Toys, Lincoln Logs and a a Light Bright. Remember those? I want to be able to build a Tinker Toy car on my desk during a meeting. If it’s not a meeting where I can feel free to build a Tinker Toy car, then it’s not a meeting creatively worth having.

Halle the cat watches me color a comic. OK, the comic was already done, but I thought it was so funny the way she just patiently watches me work that I held my iPhone in one hand while drawing with the other. That’s the kind of expert production values you get here at Cheesebo.