That night-walker, vampire bullshit was getting old fast.
The other day, through a series of messages from T.A. and under the premise of an early birthday present, I was coerced into bringing home another eater-pooper.
He's five months old, a habitual cuddler, licker and coffee stealer. His name is Cisco. Don't ask me about lineage, I only know that his mother was a shih tzu.
No seriously. I met her.
There was high falootin' chihuahua/pit bull, pimp daddy lookin' little mother fecker running around the trailer park in a fancy fur lined coat, but he just kept creeping around us all shady and shit, watching us. I suspect he was the baby daddy.
We didn't really pick Cisco. I'd had my heart set on a female, but of the five, he was the only one that didn't do the stranger danger bark the whole time we were there. As a matter of fact, he pretty much stayed next to T.A. the whole time. It was like he'd been waiting for us.
If you look closely at the picture above, you'll see that the middle of our couch is broken. Earlier today, I got a wild hair up my butt and with a pair of scissors and my duct taped hammer, I tore that whole section out. Now it perfectly frames the window. If anyone asks, I'm going to tell them we had it custom built. It's like a little doggie window seat.
I'm still waiting for word from disability. It's been three months, to the day. In the meantime, I've been trying to get over the "my life is over" mentality. I have accepted that getting another job is out of the question, and that's okay, but I need to be able to keep the lights on.
I still harbor a lot of anger over The Asylum, but it's getting better. I'm a little afraid of running in to the Pillsbury Doughboy lookin' mother fucker that gave me the axe, only because I don't want to go to jail, but there's a part of me that's willing to take that chance for the satisfaction of calling him out on his bullshit up in the grocery store and possibly pelting him upside the head with a bottle of ketchup.
Anywho, I've got pieces of couch to toss out on the porch. It'll just have to lay in the pile until I get the brakes fixed on Jolene. I'm sure old Mrs. Kravitz will have something to say about it. She can bite me.
Ya'll have a good one.
Later Taters!!
I'm still waiting for word from disability. It's been three months, to the day. In the meantime, I've been trying to get over the "my life is over" mentality. I have accepted that getting another job is out of the question, and that's okay, but I need to be able to keep the lights on.
I still harbor a lot of anger over The Asylum, but it's getting better. I'm a little afraid of running in to the Pillsbury Doughboy lookin' mother fucker that gave me the axe, only because I don't want to go to jail, but there's a part of me that's willing to take that chance for the satisfaction of calling him out on his bullshit up in the grocery store and possibly pelting him upside the head with a bottle of ketchup.
Anywho, I've got pieces of couch to toss out on the porch. It'll just have to lay in the pile until I get the brakes fixed on Jolene. I'm sure old Mrs. Kravitz will have something to say about it. She can bite me.
Ya'll have a good one.
Later Taters!!