So I’m reading this article today in the NYT about Leona Helmsley, the billionaire real-estate mogul who bequeathed $12 million to her Pomeranian when she died last year.  I hooked up a mind-reading device, and here is a real-time transcript of what is actually going through my brain as I read the article:

Alright, gonna open this yogurt.  Yum, strawberry.  OK, eating the yogurt.  Not bad.  Let’s look at the Internet.  Oh, it looks like that crazy dead Leona Helmsley lady left a mission statement for the $5 billion charitable trust that will be formed from her assets.  She wrote down two goals for the trust, according to this sentence in the article:

“The first goal was to help indigent people, the second to provide for the care and welfare of dogs.”

Awesome.  Not insane at all!  I agree both with these specific goals, and the order of importance in which these goals are listed.  I’m glad I learned about this new charitable endeavor while eating my yogurt.  Wait, there’s actually another sentence right here in the same paragraph.  I guess I’ll read it while finishing this delicious yogurt:

A year later, they said, she deleted the first goal.

Whoops!   Spilled a little yogurt on my pants there.  Wasn’t the first goal the one about helping real humans and not their animal slaves? Looks like the Times better hire some better copy editors, because if that sentence is actually correct that would mean that this woman made a conscious decision that she would rather have humans suffer than dogs, which is obviously not a decision a real person would make!  I’m glad that this sentence is obviously either an editing mistake or a weird optical illusion caused by the tears streaming down my face right now.

Mm… on second thought this yogurt kind of tastes like terrible vomit.