Monday, June 06, 2005

I hate dogs

I didn't write this morning because I was all riled up about my morning walk with Mrs. Wigglebottom. But here's the thing: I hate dogs. I have come to loathe every dog but my own and I really, really dislike my dog sometimes. Like yesterday when she was acting like a giant jackass to the landlord. And like today when the unsupervised puppy* came bounding over and I wanted to use her to lure the puppy out of the road and back into its yard and she looked at me like "Fuck you, pink ape. We're going on our walk and our walk is this way." Which caused such a commotion that the black and white dogs who live on the corner and who are never, ever fucking tied up came bounding over to see if they could add to the chaos. And, oh yes, motherfuckers who own those dogs, I heard you open your door to see what was going on. Thanks for not helping. I hope your dogs bite you. Shit, I'm becoming so bitter and tired of my own bitterness that if things don't improve, I'm just going to change my name to Jon and write some code so that when y'all click here you're just directed there. *For the record, I have never seen the puppy unsupervised before, so I hope his owners weren't lying in a heap in the back yard hoping someone would see the puppy in the road and come check to see what the problem was.

7 Comments:

Blogger Yankee, Transferred said...

Please don't change your code and send us there!

6/06/2005 01:05:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I had a bad dog experience this weekend. This chick comes up to my patio and was like, "Hey, is this your dog?" And I was like, "No." And she was all like, "Well, I wish I knew where he lived so I could bitch at his owner." And I was like, "Look chick, it's not my dog. Go the hell away." And she was all like huffy and stuff. Stupid girl.

-Jon

6/06/2005 01:23:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

What? That pickup line doesn't work? Well, so much for my plan to take Mrs. Wigglebottom around to houses where cute folk live and asking them if she's their dog.

6/06/2005 01:28:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Actually, it might've worked. But she was sweaty. And I was running short on beer. Oh, and she was probably 15. Had she been legal, not so sweaty, and toting a cooler full of beer? We'd be engaged.

-J

6/06/2005 01:53:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

That's all it takes?! Non-sweaty, cooler full of beer, and legal? I've been going about this all wrong.

6/06/2005 01:59:00 PM  
Blogger Sarah Bott said...

Im more concerned that Mrs. Wigglebottom refers to you as "Pink Ape."

6/06/2005 03:31:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

She gets that from the cats, I'm sure. They're the most condescending creatures in the house.

Sadly, Mrs. Wigglebottom has no concept of names. Even after living with us for three years, she's no closer to understanding that we have words we use to mean each other.

Maybe she more associates certain smells with each of us than certain words...

6/06/2005 03:48:00 PM  

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