Chi Chi is leaking. Whenever she gets off of her pillow, there are these little brown dots on it. I can't tell if it's coming from her butt or her nose. Probably her nose. I told that bitch to quit it with the cocaine because it was going to wreck her but she just doesn't listen. She had this huge growth on the side of her head and it popped while she was sleeping a couple of weeks ago. (That kind of disappointed me because I was looking forward to operating on it when it looked ripe.) (Sheesh. I am disgusting.) It is something that will come up on her head and then it goes away for awhile and then it comes back again. The vet said it wasn't anything to worry about. Maybe that is draining. Poor dog. Getting old sucks.
Hey! A friend of mine has started blogging. Go give him a peek. He's an odd duck. When we were in school, he ran around with my sister but I knew him. The last time I saw him was a few years ago when I was in Oklahoma on vacation. I was going to the bar with a couple of people and he was going too. I remember sitting in the back of the truck for like 15 minutes after he got in and all of a sudden he said really loud, "Holy shit! Anna? Is that you?" and I thought, "Damn, dude. I've been sitting her and we've spoken. You didn't know who the hell you were talking to?". That night was his birthday and I paid his cover into the place we were going (Since it was his birthday. I don't think you should have to pay for shit if you go out with buddies on your birthday.) and one of the girls I was with pulled me aside and wanted to know why I did that. She was the same bitch that I remembered from running around with 15 years earlier and by the end of the night I wanted to poke her in the eye. Haven't seen her since.
I find myself turning into one of my best friends. Eliza is 56 and lives in Texas. We used to work together and we are very similar. She says that I am her 25 years ago and that by the time I'm 50 that I'll be just like her. One thing that we aren't eye to eye on is religion. (But she says when she was my age that she had the same beliefs as me.) She's hoping that the Rapture will happen soon so she won't have to deal with some things. I just tell her that I hope it comes before she does some serious housecleaning or work. That way she won't waste her time cleaning her house or doing some chore that she's been putting off only to be spirited away to heaven the next day. That would be a gyp. (I hope the Rapture happens soon so there won't be so many people on the road when I'm driving to work.) I remember her telling me once that she didn't like visitors to her home and she surely would not let anyone in her house that wasn't a pet owner. That you need to be a pet owner to be okay with the messes that pets make. (Hair balls, piss spots, etc.) I am on that bus now. I don't want you in my damn house unless you have a furball of your own. I miss her. She needs to move to Florida.
In a couple of weeks we are going to our friends house for the night and guess what? They have a whole houseful of animals so I get to take all of the girls with us! Not only am I excited about seeing my friends (Hi, Dawn!) but I'll be able to relax and not spend time worrying that the dogs are freaking out because they are home alone.
Today I decided to get PeteTheFish a new abode. It took all of 40 minutes in Wall-Hell for me to find something suitable. Didn't want something too shallow because he might not like it. But not too deep because what if going down deep made his ears pop or disturbed his brain? Needed to be clear glass so he could see the world. I finally decided on something (A giant wineglass. Original, huh?) and plopped him in it. I think the new surroundings shocked him. I washed the new bowl and rocks and even bought new water for him. Maybe the cleanliness of it all was too much for him. He looked kind of puny when I left the house. I hope he doesn't fucking die. Pete VI died after I had cleaned his bowl so I was extra careful today.
Many moons ago, I worked in a Mexican restaurant as the secretary/office manager/book cooker/glorified gopher. (To this day, the smell of cilantro makes me want to hurl.) The dish washer there was this really squirrelly guy. Mid-forties, lived with his mom, red hair, bushy red mustache and a crazy smile all of the time. He liked me. On Secretary's Day, he hid behind the door going out to the parking lot and when I walked up he jumped out with a fistful of plastic flowers and screamed, "HAPPY SECRETARY'S DAY!" (The good thing about it was when my boss found out that the dish washer got me something for Secretaries Day, he gave me a $50 gift certificate the next day.) He got fired not too long after that for following women into the bathroom and watching them pee. Why do I tell you this? I saw some guy today that looked just like him and for a moment I slumped down in my car seat so he wouldn't see me.
Oh, gag. I just took the dogs out. When I picked Chi Chi up, I got a handful of goo. It appears that the leakage is coming from her southern parts. It is time to squeeze her anal glands. Goody.