Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Of Dogs and Ghetto Swill


First of all, lemme say that yes, I did warn of fewer posts, and the last few days have been as post-filled as ever. Sorry.

Now, the blog:

I was in bed. It was 7:45 in the morning. I'm sure some of you are up an about at this time of day, but not me. So, when I heard a sharp rap on my door, I thought, "S'no one I know. Fuck 'em." And I went back to sleep.

However, my doorbell was run just a few minutes later, and I thought, "Goddamnit, gotta go answer the fuckin' door." So, wearing a thermal shirt and my bear pajama bottoms (you know the ones, with bears and christmas trees on 'em), I answered the door, and make my angry face.

There is a pretty, middle-aged (I like older women) woman there. Instantly I regert wearing a thermal shirt and my bear pajama bottoms. She smiles nervously, and I smile back, knowing full well that my smile is probably more scary than sexy.

"Hi, uh, do you have a dog?" She asks.


"Do your neighbors?" I live in a duplex. I think I mentioned this.


"Its on the roof."

Pause. This is the evil demon dog that hates me and stole my back yard away.

"I'll handle it. Thanks."

She leaves. I close the door.

Well, fuck. I grab my peacoat, go outside, and sure enough, there is the dog, barking its head off at me. I shrug, and attempt to coax it down. No good. I climb onto the roof and try to coax it from there. Stil no good. Frustrated, I head into the front yard in an attempt to get a new angle on the situation.

Once in the front yard, I see a cat. The cat looks at me and says, "hey. HOly FUCK THERE IS A DOG ON THE ROOF!"

"yeah, I know, Cat. Chill, I'm trying to handle this."

So the cat meanders off. Dog continues barking. I look over and see cat, stalking a bird.

"Be careful, kittums, that bird is in the road. You don't wanna get hit by no cars now."

But, of course, he ignores me and contiues to stalk. Then I hear a car.

"Cat, no!" I shout.

The cat leaps.

The bird flies.


The bird is hit by the car and carried away. The cat just sits there as if to say "I meant to do that."

"Sure ya did, kittums."

I head back inside, angry at the dog. I make popcorn. I watfch Nacho Libre. I devise a plan.

Using Cheez-itz, I lure the dog to me. I used Cheez-itz because they were the only thing I had that were vaugely dog-snackish, except for my hamburger, and that peice of shit dog was getting not of that, let me tell you!

As soon as the dog was within arm's reach, I grabbed it and put it onto my neighbor's porch. I then gave it some food and water, cause I'm not terribly cruel to POWs.

End of dog story.

My wine is coming along nicely. This is day two. I'm wondering how big the baloon will get.


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