Friday, February 19, 2016

I had no idea Morris Albert sang this. I had no idea who the hell Morris Albert was. Still don't.

I've decided to turn TGB's dribble from the night before last into a short story. It'll make you cry.

Mostly because you're a little bitch who weeps at rom-coms.

I will have it up this weekend at some point.

I am alone this weekend. The house is mostly spotless. There are two dogs living as strangers under the same roof with me. I think I am going to write a lot this weekend.

And fish.

I suspect at some point I will throw on my wetsuit and take the camera for a swim now that the water is crystal clear again.

It's strange to watch Dexter and Lucy behaving like a couple dealing with a break up. Dexter wants nothing to do with Lucy and Lucy is all, baby, I can change! 

Bitch, please. There are too many other asses to sniff in this world for me to waste my time on your trifling ... well, ass. 

That's about how they've each been behaving since the incident the other day. In a way, having TGB away this weekend makes it easier to deal with these two shitheads.

 - I am calling Dexter a shithead again because he found his gumption again and is back to barking at fuck all everything as per usual. So he's fine.

I am going to pick the brains of a few of my friends who work in the animal field and I may drag a buddy of mine over who is a certified trainer. I'm also looking at finding a behavioralist now that we've decided to keep Lucy Liu.

Oh, did I not tell you explicitly? Yeah, we're keeping the bitch. I still feel nothing when I am with her, but doing the right thing has nothing to do with feelings.

She comes home on Monday. So shower tomorrow and Monday? Maybe just Monday.

Titty sprinkles!