This is my dog Ginger, and I’m pretty sure she’s trying to kill me. Oh sure, I sound paranoid, but I’m convinced it’s true. In fact, she tried to do me in just this weekend.
But before I get into that, let me tell you why I think she has it in for me. See, Eric was Ginger’s dog before he and I got married. She was head bitch, if you will. But now that I’m here, she’s not top dog anymore. Oh sure, she’s nice when Eric’s around, but when’s he’s not, the claws come out.
On Friday I worked a little late, then bought some much needed alcohol. Eric was at happy hour, so when I came home, it was just Ginger and me… and a horrible gas smell that filled the whole house. Ginger must have put her paws on the stove while looking for people food, and turned a burner knob on in the process. It didn’t light, just filled the house with gas.
I gave Eric a call, and he had me turn off the furnace and open the windows. While the gas dissipated from the air, I eyed Ginger. No, she didn’t win this time, but she taught me not to underestimate her plotting capabilities.
So I keep reading that blogs are dead, but I’m back anyway. I like Twitter, but the 140 character limit sometimes just doesn’t cut it for me. Case in point… I posted the story below on Twitter, but couldn’t shorten it enough to fit in just one tweet…
Eric and I went to see the Barenaked Ladies play a free concert a couple weeks ago at the Midland. (I now call them the Partially Naked Ladies because they are short one of their singers.) Anyway, the lead singer from Better Than Ezra opened for them, and near the end of his set, he brought out “American Idol” David Cook for a duet. At that point, Eric leaned over and said, “We paid too much for these free tickets.”
P.S. Thanks to Eric for the new layout!
P.P.S. All my old pr0n posts are password protected now. I’ll give you a hint… it’s my favorite type of clear alcohol that starts with the letter V.
I’m mostly on Twitter (wellhellchell), so this poor blog has been kinda ignored lately by me. Let’s do a little catch up:
- Our dog was hit by a car, but she wasn’t hurt. Thank goodness for her extra padding. Makes me think I should keep my extra padding just in case I’m ever in a similar situation.
I bought a Google phone, and I really like it, mostly because it has a Chuck Norris app that says, “Like my gun?” and “Did you steal 2 kilos of cocaine?”
- I got my hair cut into a bob above my shoulders. Guys hate it, but I’m married so it doesn’t matter. Besides, it’s growing out.
- I’m starting grad school classes in a few weeks, and I’m already looking forward to them being over.
- I want to buy a voodoo doll for work, and I’m wondering if I can get away with putting it on my company credit card…
…probably not.
The other day, I found something I liked at a store, and went to the register to check out. Two guys behind the counter were talking about music.
Rap Guy: Do you like rap?
Other Guy: Nah, not really man.
Rap Guy: What? You don’t listen to any rap? Not even Chamillionaire?
Other Guy: Well I kinda like the guy who was in that one movie…
Rap Guy: Which one?
Other Guy: That Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie.
Vanilla Ice, yo. Word to your mother.
Lately I’ve been tagging along with Dangerboy to our neighborhood association meetings. At one of the meetings, a woman sat in the back of the room… with her big dog. The dog had on a tiny chihuahua-size service vest that we think the owner probably bought on eBay. The meeting was going pretty smoothly, agenda item to agenda item, until the woman with the dog asked if she could speak. She started off with these words…
“I didn’t want to come tonight, but my dog told me I had to.”
Then she went into an nonsensical tirade until people politely told her to sit down and shut up. Free crazy talk at neighborhood meetings… just one of the many reasons Dangerboy and I lurve midtown.
I’m taking a blog vacation. You can still follow along on Twitter – I’m on there as wellhellchell. I’ll be back here when I’m ready to write more than 140 characters at a time.
Today is Greg Beck’s 50th birthday, and this would have been a big celebration weekend for him. Greg always updated his blog with his birthday adventures, and here’s my favorite of his birthday posts:
I’ll make this quick and dirty. Friday night after work I went out to celebrate my birthday. Michelle, Raven, Bottle, Rusty, Mito, and various other people joined me. Here are some things I remember.
1. Doing shots with Mito.
2. Doing shots with Bottle.
3. Doing shots with Michelle.
4. Doing shots.
5. Drunkenly talkin to Carrie and Harper about doing a threesome and watching Carrie nip up. (she took it surprisingly well)
6. Watchin Springer and yakking at the hot lesbians sitting at the bar.
7. Coming home and talking Cassie’s ear off.
8. So hung over that the best I could do all day Saturday was sit on the couch and watch ten hours of the science fiction channel
And here are the things I don’t remember.
1. Driving home.
2. Doing shots.
3. Confessing my drunken love to all my friends.
4. Coming home and waking Cassie out of bed and telling her because she’s my roommate now, I can’t, won’t, hit on her any more.
5. My tab.
6. Walkin Michelle to her car and trying to talk her into flashing me and pressing her tits up against the window.
And the number one thing I don’t remember.
1. Sitting in the Cane tonight with Cassie and Michelle and listening as two Westport cops told me that I was so drunk that I asked for their guns so I could off whitey. God truly loves and watches out for the insane. Word.
posted by Greg Beck at Sunday, December 08, 2002
So kids, if you get out this weekend, have a drink for Greg… you know he would have.
Last week I walked into a convenience store to get some coffee… okay, and maybe a doughnut… and heard this conversation between a woman and the clerk behind the counter:
Woman: Do you have Grand Marnier?
Clerk: No, but we have some Hennessy.
Woman: Um, it’s not the same thing.
Clerk: But you can drink Hennessy anytime! You can drink it on your birthday. You can drink it on your kid’s birthday. You can drink it on Jesus’ birthday.
Woman: Yeah, well, um… I’m just going to go now.
After she left, the clerk said to a guy standing by the counter, “Grand Marnier? What the hell is that?
This is my dog Ginger, and I’m pretty sure she’s trying to kill me. Oh sure, I sound paranoid, but I’m convinced it’s true. In fact, she tried to do me in just this weekend.
