From My Inbox

And just as they were in itscentre, they caught a glimpse of a democrat coming from the south. Then the stable was built; just as it stands today. Still, mother insisted on my going to school now. Thats where Bobby spends most of his Sundays . She treated me as a grown-up, asindeed I was. Ellen, he calls with an almost breaking voice. Lets go, she says as she rises to her feet and smiles at him. Even I had tohelp, lifting and pulling when the logs were too heavy for them.

This shack looks a disgrace to the place, he said in a matter-of-face tone when he entered.

Sigurdsen would come, hobbling about, bent on his stick

Movie Minute: Two Bad French Films About Fucking

Ma Mere

Mom: Hi, son. Sorry your dad died. Man, I'm such a slut.

Son: That's cool. Let's get drunk and fuck.

Mom: ~is strangled during rough sex~

Son: Shit. Guess it's back to masturbation.

Anatomy of Hell

Guy: I'm gay. Let's fuck.

Girl: Whatev. Life is pain.

~guy rapes girl with a hoe until she dies~

Girl: Theory proven!

Found On My Desk this AM

Biting

1. tighten all obedience work so that the dog is good.

2. If your dog bites say "NO"! realle stirmly.

3. Also if your dog bites on purpose crate him up

Dear Jupiter:

Hello pumpkin.

Most of the time you're a very good boy. That is what I kept telling myself today, as you have, so far:

1. Run away when I produced the harness you wear in the car. I know, I know, you don't like that kind of harness, but sugarbutt, you wouldn't have to wear this kind if you hadn't eaten the other one. And did you have to eat it while actually in the car? I thought you were all safe and secure until I opened the back door (half-asleep, as always in the AM) and you rocketed out to The Land of Giant Liver Treats or wherever it is you think you're going to go once freed from the tyranny of the leash. Let me tell you, my little noisette, no such thing exists. I'm as good as it gets. Really.


2. Paced and whined in the back seat the whole way to work; or more accurately, you alternated pacing with standing over me and dripping nose juice onto my shirt. What's with the sudden car fear, anyway? Did you have a bad dream or something?

3. Peed all over your bed when I left you for half an hour to do a consult with a new client. Honeypants, I know it's scary, but I always come back, OK? I have to earn money to keep you in food and treats and, apparently, beds.

4. Bobbed and weaved and played "statue" as I attempted to walk you back to the car whilst also toting said pee-pee bed. I'm proud that I managed to be calm and collected while you danced in between my legs, causing me to repeatedly whap myself with your drippy, stank bedding, but, muffinlips, I kind of wanted to boot your ass a solid half-mile. Just so you know.

But right now you are sleeping peacefully (next to your bed. Seriously, what is WRONG with you?) and I am willing to forgive. For now.

Less Talk, More Making Out

"There is a hint of broccoli in there."

"What do you mean? I brushed!"

"Yeah, but it's still there. Just a hint."

"OK fine, I'm turning over now."

"Wait, come back, I love broccoli!"

This Should Explain a Thing or Two About Me

When I was a kid, we had hamsters. A hamster is a great pet for a kid - practically disposable, just one step up from Tamagotchis. They're cute, but they don't do much, and just as soon as you've gotten used to them, boom! They die. And they join the other ten or so hammies eternally dirtnapping in the backyard. And I was basically OK with that - it was deeply saddening when Hammie Heathcliff kicked it, but after that, I was toughened up and better able to deal with the sad reality of mortality. In fact, I credit poor, brave Hammie's passing as helping me to deal well with the death of my great-aunt, the first human death I was cognizant of.

Well, to be perfectly frank, my equanimity when getting that news might have had something to do with the fact that my sole perception of my great-aunt was of a woman who passed the time swearing at people and picking her toes. But anyway!

The memorable deceased included a a couple of hammies, one of whom excaped and drowned in the toilet, and the other refused pellets and water and soon passed as well. This was a great tragedy in my young life, so teRrible and romantic, it was not soon to be gotten over. But of course, I was eight, so when Mom suggested that we go back to the mall and pick out some new ones, I was game. Especially when she threw in the added incentive of Burger King.

Naturally, after the great love my previous hamster compadres had shown each other, I was hoping to replicate the experience (sans death). Sadly, this second set wasn't quite so copacetic. They fought constantly; when they weren't sleeping, their cage was a-rockin with spat after spat. But even that I was willing to excuse (surely sometimes brothers fight too) (or sisters, who the hell knows with those things) until one day my brother bullied me into cleaning the cage EVEN THOUGH IT WAS HIS TURN, and I went upstairs, grumbling, only to find one of the hamsters lying still and quiet and the other running about frantically. Curious, I lifted the lid, and found

A HEADLESS HAMSTER

I flung the lid down and ran screaming, naturally. And my brother was called into action despite all his best efforts, to fish out the body and give it the proper ceremonial burial. The remaining hamster apparently liked the taste of meat a whole lot, because we couldn't feed the thing without it jumping up and trying to chew off a finger or two. So, sadly, it ended up starving to death.

And then we tossed it in the garbage and called it a day on the whole hamster thing.

Out of shape

I am out of shape. Diarizing shape. I've tried to keep it up by plugging away at Myspace from time to time, but it's so inhibiting because those people know me in real life and ugh

Like, I wanted to write about how at my job, my boss insists on treating me like a lady, as in he'll say stuff like:

"I told [co-worker] to clean the bathroom because you can't leave pee crusted on the seat when you work with a lady,"

or

"Did you see Jimmy Kimmel last night? No? It was hilarious, they....uh, never mind. It's not something I could say to a lady, "

or

"Fu- sorry. I shouldn't use that language around a lady."

and it kind of makes me want to be a lady, like crossing my legs at the ankle and arranging my skirts just so and just generally affecting an air of modesty and propriety. However, this goes counter to my natural inclinations in a big way. So the real hilarity comes from the juxtaposition of my boss being all ~delicate~ and me running around all FUCK and PERIOD and GIANT THROBBING COCKS and so on. And yet, he persists!