First of all, when you see this in closed quarters:
Cover your balls. He fucking ran like this at me as usual, but he head butted me right in the nuts. Not a good feeling to say the least.
Other highlights include Thursday morning. What about Thursday morning, you ask? As I was letting him out for his morning romp around the backyard, I see not one, but two, cyotes run out of the woods. They start walking towards Mr Pete and I freaked out. What did I do? I ran outside clapping my hands together obnoxiously and started barking like a dog to scare them away. Yea, sober, sane people do these things. Of course Mr Pete thought he was being playful and starts galloping after them as they ran off back into the woods and I had to run after him and tackle him in fear of him getting some kinda rabies or something.
If you haven't talked to me much this week, I've basically summed up my week with Mr Pete as "Turner and Hooch, minus the gunplay." Pete, much like hooch, is a giant obnoxiously dim witted dog that is loveable to a degree. The love stops at the incessant drooling, the fact he can knock down a door, and the other fact that despite the fact Sarah doesn't like him on the furniture, he's been basically figuring I'm a pushover and will just bellyflop on me as I'm laying on bed (and I catch him sleeping on the bed whenever I come out of the shower, and he tries to hide from me by laying down on his stomach and hiding his head).
...Did I give him a treat before I left for work this morning? Yea, I think I did.
Anyway, yea. my evnings the past few nights have consisted of watching 30 rock dvds and fighting with pete to stay off the bed, until I realize I just wanna watch tv and am too lazy to repeatedly try to drag him off the bed. Whatever, sarah is gonna probably burn the bed sheets because I touched them.
Oh, and have I mentioned I never met a dog whose ass can top mine? I never met a dog with so much gas. He really puts me to shame at times. Mr Pete has the worse case of Alpo farts I've ever had to endure (Alpo farts is a term my mom coined back in the day to describe bad dog farts... yea, my family is the cast of characters for a loony Tunes cartoon). But seriously, I had to stick my fucking head under the covers for a good minute or two the other night cause Pete's ass was so vile and he wouldn't stop farting. But, I dunno think anything will beat yesterday. I was sitting there eating Chinese food and he was just staring at me, waiting and hoping for me to give him some of it for him to eat. As I turn to look at him, I was about to say "go away pete," but his ass beat me to it. He farted so bad, it sounded like a gatling gun. I didn't know dogs could fart like that until last night. Definitely not something you want to hear/smell while eating.
But anyway, onto the drunken debautchery of last night. While eating, I decided to spike my ice tea with vodka scott and sarah left me. By the time Loki and Cash showed up to pick me up, I was already just pounding Vodka straight from the bottle because I didn't have any mixers. I'm told by Loki that I have problems because I do things like this. Little does he know I stopped myself from bringing the bottle into the shower with me to chug from as I bath. (oh, and Scott, if you're reading this, note the fact that unlike you, I make useful words out of Sarah's hair on the shower wall... yes, that does, or did, say "SLAYER" in Sarah's hair on the wall... maybe I do need mental help).
Anyway, yea. we pounded a drink and then headed to this place in Suffern called New Rock, around the corner from where we used to always go drink at before they shut it down for an indefinite hiatus. The place was kinda swanky and has bands play there. Last night was some awul band called 8th Grade Science Class (or something along those lines of stupidity). It was 4 old guys who were getting drunk at the bar and some woman that looked like a hagard Stevie Nicks. I couldn't even tell you what the hell they played because I blocked them out. Yea, I wasn't even in the mood to make fun of them, that's how much I ignored the music they were playing.
Stathi got us BOMBED.
You know who else got bombed? Whoever left this in the sink:
Gross, right? (if you couldn't figure it out, that's vom... as in VOMIT).
Even Grosser:
Yea, nothing like watering down the vomit.
Yea, so um... we got drunk. Read my twitter updates to see the nonsense that happened that I cant remember. Cash fell asleep in Loki's car early in the night. Well, not really that early, but still. The night ended with Loki and I singing along to Type O Negative while speeding like lunatics down the highway and I believe I passed out eating whatever left over Chinese food I had from dinner.
I woke up this morning to a text from Romil after 9... making me realize I was late to work. I ran aroudn the house, feeding the dog, walking him, getting dressed (did I not brush my teeth this morning? Ewe, I think I forgot to. Wait, no I vaguely recall brushing).
Anyway, yea.
I went to the bathroom to check how I looked when I literally stumbled into the office earlier today. Not a pretty sight:
Now, if you'll excuse me. I have to do research for a website Loki and I need to get to work (ok, I doubt it'll happen, but just to buy it as a joke would be funny).
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