Anybody want a dog?

I will not keep a lowlife, cocksuckin', stupid fuckin' dog like this one. He's gone.
Fuck him, in all his ball-less glory.
Fuck you, Ziggy. Yer outta here, ya asshole. Fuck you til ya die.

Yet another reason it's a good damn thing I don't have access to firearms.

I'm going back to bed.

Forever.

Update 8:00am:

Okay then. Mr. Ziggy got his ass jammed up and has reacted correctly to being screamed at for it. He has been properly chastised and has acted in repentant manner. He shall be allowed to live. Here, even.

In otherwords, I go out to find him and find a different dog out there, loose, that 'we' didn't know was out. That was April. She didn't wander off and she came straight back in. No problem. I came in with her to get my duster (colder than I knew) and went I got back to the door...there he was. EEEERRRRGGGGG! I went ballistic-a thing ya ain't supposed to do when they get back, cause then they don't wanna come back next time, but....I freaked on his ass. Yelled right into his face that he can go back where the hell he came from and fuckin' stay there...who da hell do you think you are?....run off, will ya?...yada, yada, yada. He sat in the chair, not looking at me. I was PISSED and he knew it.
I left the livingroom and him, still yelling, and he stayed put. Good for him. The other three dogs came into the other room with me, he stayed. He got left there to stew, til a few minutes ago. (The other three dogs still being the only ones out here got to me...I admit it.) So, I went into the livingroom, where he had moved to the couch. He was laying there, lookin' all pitiful and he wagged the last inch of his tail at me, like..."Sorry Mom, ya don't REALLY hate me now, do ya?" Which was just what I needed to see. I stood there looking at him, trying not to smile (much) and sat on the coffee table and we had a (civilised) little talk, at the beginning of which, he licked my nose.

Now, how am I supposed to stay properly pissed when he's doin' that? Dumb dog.

I explained to him that taking off like that is BAD and that he is NEVER to do it again. Uh-huh. Riiiight. (Rolling eyes...me, not him.)

(He's here right now, begging to have his big old hairy ass scratched...sigh.)

Anyhow, it's over now. No dead dog, no gone dog, no stroke for me....yet.

I swear, though. First the computer is fried and I get that partially fixed, then the dog wants to mind-fuck me by running off and making me want to kill his ass and now, thank God, that's also fixed.

I'd ask what the fucks next, but I ain't stupid. Plus, I DON'T WANNA KNOW.

This is exactly the kind of superfluous, unnecessary shit I hate having to deal with. What's it called again?
Oh yeah....Being alive.
Such fun.

I'mina go put on my new nightgown that Eric got for me, watch cartoons, play with my Play-Doh and maybe even color. (Yes, I have about a half a ton of crayons and a few books, why?)

I am taking this day off from being an adult, seeing as how I've only been awake for three hours and I've wanted to committ murder about 20 times, so far. Just seems like a good idea, ya know?

Psst...anybody gets near any candles, can ya light one for me, please?

Posted by: Stevie at 07:10 AM

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