written February 16, 2009
Okay, I've been clicking the button of my pen on the desk for the last ten minutes, trying to think of something to write about. It's my first night to myself in a long time and I figured I should take the time to write. First, I poured a glass of wine. Second, I drank it. Third, I poured another and fourth I drank it too.
Stubbs has given up on the idea that I might want to spend the night entertaining him. I held the soggy, gooey rawhide thingy while he chewed on it for a little while, but he always seems to want the side that's in my hand - a game I don't understand and refuse to play so I just throw it across the room. "Fetch Boy! Get away from me!" That's a game he doesn't understand and refuses to play, therefore he gives me that pissed-off look (OH - he has one… slow head tilt and all) and then starts barking at me. It's his way of saying. "Fuck You! Daddy (Corban) would hold it for me! I hate you!" Then he sneezes in my face. It's like, his favorite thing to do. He never does this to Corban. ONLY me. They say that dogs understand comedy. They know when they do something that makes you laugh - so they will keep doing it. Corban laughs really hard every time Stubbs blows dog snot in my face. It's his signature joke.
I kiss him on the jowl when he sleeps - when he's too tired to object. He treats me kind of bad, but I still love him more than I love most of you. Hold on - he just brought the rawhide back to me. I'm typing this with one hand now. My other hand is knuckle deep in slimy, boxer mouth. And, hey, don't get all offended by that "me loving him more than most of you" comment. I leave him alone for most of the day, refuse to play his games most of the time and feed him the same boring food every day - and every night he still cuddles up to me. ME. He stretches his deer-like legs and shoves a paw into Corban's mouth and I whisper a giggle into his ear. Have any of you ever shared a moment like that with me? No.
I didn't mean to write that much about my dog.
I broke a Courvoisier glass earlier. I wasn't going to drink Courvoisier out of it (pffft) - I was going to drink cheap red wine out of it, because all of our wine glasses are dirty - but I'm clumsy and I dropped in on the floor and it shattered. Oh well. Our wine tastes just as cheap in a oversized, Disney coffee mug. Cheers.
I've never been to Disney World and I think I'm okay with that. Somebody went - and brought back this mug as a gift. I've never understood the idea of people going on trips and then coming home with souvenir gifts for people who have never been to the place they just came from. It's actually a jackass move if you think about it. "Look where I got to go and you didn't! Hahahaha! Enjoy your Breckenridge refrigerator magnet, loser!"
Hey! You know what I found on On Demand? Karaoke. (By the way - Robcuppsmas is just around the corner. This year - karaoke - private room - be there.) Anyway - I thought, I'm alone, I like to sing… hmmm.
So - I clicked the 80s option because it's me we're talking about - and chose Madonna's - "Crazy for You" - because - shut up, it's a great song. And… I couldn't do it. I couldn't. I had the remote up to my mouth and started to sing.. But even in the privacy of my own house and I was too embarrassed of the sound of my own voice. I got up and shut the blinds and then made sure all the doors were locked and tried again, but still - no. It was just too… pointless? Why embarrass yourself all alone? As some of you have seen - I have NO PROBLEM embarrassing myself in front of an audience. But alone was just a little melodramatic. So I watched porn instead and then felt ashamed and then decided to write. Corban - I owe you $7.99 on the next cable bill and a new Courvoisier glass. Sorry.
Stubbs just rang the bell which means he needs to pee and actually, so do I, so I'll wrap it up. Thank you for reading this.
No comments:
Post a Comment