PLOG was the spawn of a meth bender and a gallon of cheap vodka, followed by an ill-advised trip to the local food market.

Lunching on $2 cans of soup seemed like a stroke of genius at the time, as did resting my naked body on the soft, cool packs of beef in the meat section. Ultimately, both choices proved to be questionable. I have no regrets nonetheless.

I've had my fill of soup, and I've said all I care to say about it. Therefore, PLOG has been taken out to the barn and humanely shot in the face with a 12-gauge shotgun. Twice.