Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Stupid Is...

I'm agast this morning.
I was at the office terrifically late last night, and back in 20 minutes early today.
I am SWAMPED with time sensitive projects that will demand my utmost attention to detail and the clock for the entirety of the day.
Somehow, I have GOT to get this thought off my mind to deal with my workload.

I have often said how alike My Gorgeous Girl and I are... big smiles, round in the belly but in a totally OK and actually cute way, friendly to everyone but especially friendly men, easily distracted by whatever is going on in the kitchen, equally ready for a run on the beach or a road trip or a nap.
Now, what am I supposed to think about Brut and Spaz when I wake up at 4am to the sounds of a choking, gagging, yacking dog in my hallway? When SugarBear starts to ralph something up, I take her outside, she vomits or coughs until she has to pee, walks over to the water dish, and we go back to bed. This one left her dog in the hallway (or couldn't move or persuade him anywhere else) for HOURS, having me and SweetiePea crawling farther and farther under the mass of pillows (yes, Shortster actually burrowed a tunnel to sleep in) so we didn't have to hear the vile sound of a digestive tract in reverse. Come 6am I am done with this bullshit of rolling over every 10 minutes to the sound of a hollow raspy hawking followed by the gurgling roll of a mouth with no cheeks spitting up whatever it can. I get out of my cocoon of blankets and get hit in the bare tocks with the cool air stream of my 2" open window, throw on a robe and slippers, and catch Spaz coming out of her room with a "good morning, isn't he so annoying? He got into a box of cookies last night and has been choking on them ever since! Do you have any bread in your room? I'm trying to get him to eat something to dislodge it..."
Thats as far as she got before I had turned on my heel, disrobed, and crawled back in bed to love all over my Boogie for being such a good fucking dog.
Realizing my timing, I knew going to sleep for one more hour would do more harm than good so I started a leisurely morning routine. Not two seconds after the shower water shuts off I have Spaz yelling through the door asking if I thought milk or pudding would be a better help to her fucking retarded dog - I said into my towel "maybe if he would drink WATER the crumbs would move off his tonsil and we could relax".
This mother fucker didn't get his walk on the beach for 2 hours today, he was too busy being made rice and eating white bread and lapping up tapioca pudding cups and being spoon fed cottage cheese... apparently white food helps the throat out of such a crisis. With all this happening when he is normally bounding into ocean waves, he spent the majority of his time NOT EATING this food she ran to the store to buy but rather HOWLING at my Little Buggie Bear for finding all these treats fair game, then running over to the open bathroom door where I was smearing my face with HideTheZit and smoothing my hair with FuckThisWind as fast as possible for I KNEW he would be surprised as fuck to see me there and get his nose on my tailbone before YELLING at me that he was happy to see I hadn't left yet.
So I am sitting here baffled that my Sweets can know that this dog is faking dying for attention to the point of not even caring he is chucking loogies all over the carpet and probably onto my door, that she can sit at the edge of the kitchen and patiently wait to be tossed the yumminess of the day, that she cares not that Spaz won't let me give her the medication that keeps her walking or even refill her food dish... basically I am in awe of my Baby's ability to be the rad-est (yes, I said RAD) dog and this fucking beast of a monstrosity of an overgrown freak has this full grown tax paying job having car driving citizen in good standing human being RUNNING to the store to buy $30 in food that she NEVER EATS to help her tard dog SWALLOW.


Also, it dawned on me that if Spaz wants to put off moving and Sister thinks thats a good idea (read: one more month to waffle before leaving me stranded in a lease), maybe BatDog and I will find a studio since they both think I can afford that much rent anyway. I mean fuck, whats another move at this point and DAMN am I FUCKING DONE with this kind of bullshit in my day!


curmudgeon said...

Gee. Wonder why her other roomie(s) moved out?

Miss Sassy said...

C - got me think'n bout livin on my own, thats for sure!!!
Then again, she lives alone whenever possible (read: commission based jobs can SUCK) and this is how she turned out... maybe roomies keep me grounded??!!?!

vincentblackshadow said...

Poor dog. Mine is the first one I've ever owned and he's a good dog cos I took the time to train him right.

If your roomie can't train her dog, what the phrase I'm looking for, oh yeah, 'slap the bitch upside the head'.

My friend The Artist has a dog and its annoyingly out of control. I think I might be the only one who trains the damn dog when I have a cuppa now and again at his house.

Dogs are simple creatures, teach 'em right and they turn out right. Owners are the damn problem. Maybe we should neuter the bad ones, that'd teach 'em.

Miss Sassy said...

Vince - yes, its Spaz thats the problem, we know this.
He is FINE when she isn't around, isn't that the bitch of it??
Then she hears me tell him NO and RUNS downstairs and reminds me to ASK the dog to do things... I said "he just bit my sister, he gets a firm voice, and you are lucky he just bit her or it would be a firm hand as well."

Fucking freak.
And they were so chill when I met them before I moved in!!!

Seriously, at the computer for the sole purpose of finding a place to live al la carte.

Dirk_Star said...

Great blog!

I really enjoyed your earthy style of writting.

Miss Sassy said...

Dirk - Thank You Very Much =)=)
When I don't have people to talk to, I post; welcome to my world ;)