Fluckin' Dags

The past two days have been filled with dogs.  So many dumb dogs.  I like dogs usually, but this was too much...I had to visit my family for two days. So, I had to bring MY dog with. My dog is a freeky little Chinese Crested, which means that he is basically hairless.  He is clean. He is weird looking as shit and he is my homeboy.

My family, on the other hand, has two dogs; a little Yorkshire Terrier, and a gigantic Black Russian Terrier puppy.  IDK if you care about dog breeds, but the Black Russian Terrier puppy, Gustav, is a massive beast of a dumb-ass puppy. I let him in from outside, and he instantly takes a shiz...INSIDE! WTF.  So, that happened like three times, and this dog eats like 5 cans of food a day, so, you can imagine.  Plus he barks constantly.  I was annoyed by this idiot the whole time. So, there was that.

Then, the poor little Yorkshire Terrier is so upset by all the commotion over the past couple days, that she barfs then BM's in her crate (which is unusual for her but WHATEVER), guess who's the only one around? Yeahhhhhhh.

Gustav tried to eat my dog (and scratched him), and jumped on me and woke me up at 6.45 am (a full three hours after I fell asleep) and my foot got peed on at some point during these adventures. Fucking awesome.

Finally I get back to my apartment with my little champion, "Kramer, you're the best dog ever!  You were so good!" I say to him as he quietly lays on my lap...and proceeds to barf all over me...  

What's more gay?

I went out to a bar last night with my bff.  Somehow I got stuck sitting in the corner and was able to eavesdrop on the table next to me.  There were a couple of bro-ey guys and a couple of girls with their tater-tots hanging out.  The guys, and I can't even make this shit up, were loudly asking, "What's more gay? If your balls touch, or if your shafts touch?"

I stopped talking in the middle of my conversation and just turned and looked at this table for like 10 seconds.  I had to shut my trap because I wanted to interject, "The gayest thing is that you're asking questions like that."

Oh, Humanity...

walking to the liquor store

It was such a beautiful day in Chicago today, that I felt the need to wear shorts. Oh shorts, what a glorious thing. But I only own, like, one pair. I found them, put them on, and proceeded to walk outside...Now, it's been about six months since I wore them, and damn gurl, I don't mean to brag, but I've lost some serious weight...I put my phone in my back pocket when I walked outside and almost had a mooning incident...My neighborhood would have loved that...But my point is that I need new clothes...

My OTHER point is that while walking to the liquor store (cuz I'm a classy bitch) I was reminded of the last time I bought vodka and ice. And that was during my horrendous break up with my last boyfriend. When he told me on our walk that he didn't want to be with me anymore, I stopped in the 7-Eleven to buy ice, and he had asked me, "What are you buying here?" and I said, "Ice." And he asked me why and I told him, "You know that I don't fuck around with homemade ice."

And that's where I like to remember my last relationship ending. Nothing after that. Just me saying, "You know I don't fuck around with homemade ice."

Anyway. Liquor store. Yeeeeeaaaahhhhh.

The Story of Bitchturd B. Hayes

I called my sister to talk recently and a rare gem was born.

The following is the story of Bitchturd B. Hayes...

My sister's son, (who's in fourth grade) came home from school talking about the president he learned about that day. So, she asked him what the president's name was, "BitchURD Hayes," he responds. She tells him that it must be Richard Hayes. He tells her, "NO MOM it's BITCHARD, with a B!!!" She says, "noooo..." and he says "YEESSSSSS!!!" She tells him, "I'll bet you $5 that it isn't Bitchard." He makes the bet.

I stop her at this point of her story because to me, both of them sound wrong, so being the fucker I am, I do a google. Yeah, it's Rutherford B. Hayes..."Continue," I tell her...

She continues...She tells him that he MUST be wrong for TWO reasons. The first reason, (her words), "No parent in their right mind would EVER EVER, name their kid something that sounds like "bitch-TURD" and, AND, the second reason, I at no point in my life, NO POINT, remember laughing at that name in school or making fun of it, so it can't POSSIBLY be the name of a president of the United States."

Yes, these are her reasons of why 'Bitchard' is not the right name...to my nine year-old nephew.

Fuck. I was pissing in my pants at the hilarity of the story, and how sincere she was in telling it.

Two days later my sister calls me. She informs me that Rutherford B. Hayes had someone in his family named "Birchard" but that she doesn't feel like she owes my nephew the $5. Laughing, I tell her to pay up.

Boom. Shit is fucking ridiculous. And that's how Bitchturd was born.

kids say the darndest things

My interaction with a customers kid today:

Me: Hey little guy. Are you having fun today?

Kid: ...yeah...

Me: Cool. Are you going to do anything fun when you get home?

Kid: YEAH! I'm gonna take off ALL my clothes when I get home!!!

Me: BHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

this sums up how i feel about everything

http://www.pizzaboomerang.com/

I faint at the sight of blood

You ever hear women who say, "I faint at the sight of blood"? It drives me fucking crazy. I mean, women menstruate, right? Therefore if they faint at the sight of blood, they're going to be constantly passing out every time they change a tampon. I like to imagine them going to the bathroom, seeing blood, passing out, and getting back up, seeing blood, passing out again, over and over and over, on an endless loop. It's fucking ridiculous.