Monday, February 01, 2010

Bad mood? Don't make me fight you.

Me to Tanner, the tiny Yorkie: I feel you are not hearing me lately, Tan. I am feeling like when I talk, it's as though you don't understand a word I'm saying. When you choose to lick the spot where your balls used to be rather than engaging with me in a meaningful way, it makes me feel like I'm not valuable as a person.

Mr. Man: Why are you talking to the dog like you two are in therapy?

Me:  Because the dog is being a douche. By the way, I left all the laundry in the dryer except for my personal stuff.

Mr. Man: That's just like you. You always leave the laundry in the dryer. And how is it a dog can be a douche? I don't think you are even using that word correctly.

Me: Just like me? Listen Jackson, I pulled ten years hard time in this institution doing YOUR laundry. I mean HARD time. You were a cop, for godsake. Have you ANY idea how hard it is to clean the underwear of The Law after a night of fighting crime? Laundry is your thing now, Mister Man. Suck on that. The dog is being douchey, by the way, with his whining and his nails clicking across the floor and whatnot. It's a perfectly appropriate word to use when a dog is fulfilling all the requirements of douchedom.

Mr. Man: You should go to bed.

Me: I will fight you. I mean it. Right here. Put 'em up. I will flat mess you up in ways you have only heard about in childhood stories told by your drunken uncles as a means of taking their minds off their utterly miserable and completely uninteresting existence as husbands to some of the ugliest women in the state of Kansas. I will open up a can of legendary Hillbilly Whoopass right up on you until you beg me to turn you loose and let you participate in the sweet release that is the doing of laundry. 

Mr. Man: You're going to Kitten's this weekend, right? Maybe you should get a head start. I think we have weather coming.

Me: That's right. Walk away, old man. And take the little dog with you.








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1 comment:

Tidewaterbound said...

LOL--now if only I could get Don to do laundry. Oh Dear God, NO! Somehow I know they'd come out shredded or something.

Being in the evil pet 'tude with you, can he take my CATS too? (like ALL of them--I'd even pay ya!)