I am blahed out. Go read Jeni’s post and then come back.

That’s me.

Sweety has asked me what do I like anymore. What am I excited about? There isn’t anything. I just want to be left alone in the dark.

I feel like I don’t have any right to grouch about anything because so many people have it worse. Despite how much I loooooooathe my job at least I have it.

The contest at work? My team won. We were in the lead up until the second to last day. All month long, I did not boast about it or give the other team captain a hard time. But ohmyfuckingword, the one day that her team was in the lead? Crow, fucking crow. I really didn’t give a damn if my team won or not. She was so sure that her team had won and when it was announced that they did not the whining started. (I decided to give my team all a gift certificate to the cafe at work for their prize. I think I’m going to crank out the prize that Sweety suggested of wings and beer for this month’s prize. Because it was decided we’d have the same fucking contest again this month. Yee-haw.) Her team had to take more phone calls…surely the numbers hadn’t been calculated properly….blahblahblah.

She’d made little comments about how I “bribed” my team with candy and a prize. So. The. Fuck. What? Everytime one of her people sold a doohickey she’d do this squealing congratulations. Not me. I told my people to just please sell and I’d do something nice for them if we won. But that I wasn’t going to pat their backs all the time because I can’t multitask like that. I have to pay attention to the customer on my phone when I’m working.

We were in a meeting yesterday and she was taking it upon herself to try and volunteer me to our supervisor for various things. It took all I had to not tell her to shut the fuck up. That would probably get me canned. Her voice makes me want to stab my eardrums out. I want to punch her in the head. Sweety said that he will pay once to bail me out of jail as long as it isn’t a felony charge because those cost too much. I’m thinking about it.

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I am so pissed off.

I decided to give the neighbor’s neglected cat a bath and bought some waterless shampoo. It has the consistency of hair mousse. You’re supposed to rub it on the cat til it’s soaked and then dry it off with a towel. I was going this route because I was afraid he’d have a heart attack if I gave him a real bath.

Came home and sat down outside with him and followed the directions. I have one moussed up cat and I start toweling him off. But it’s just pink stuff coming off on the towel and his hair looks weird. He’s too dirty for this.

I take him inside to gently give him a water bath. Put him in the dry tub and fill a cup with warm water and pour it on him. And it’s pink too when it rinses. What the hell?

I make it my main mission to get his head clean because it is completely black with what I think is dirt. Realize as I’m scrubbing that it isn’t dirt – it’s blood. And HUNDREDS of fleas come pouring out from under his face/head scab as I wash. As he gets completely wet, see that he is totally infested with fleas. It seems they’ve concentrated on his head because he can’t flick them away since he only has one back leg. That’s why he’s so skinny. The fleas are killing him. But I don’t have any flea soap.

He’s all limp in the bottom of the tub and I don’t know what to do. It seems wrong to get him all wet and just give the evil fleas a bath without killing any of them. I want to go to the store for some baby shampoo so I can thoroughly wash his head without hurting his eyes and get some flea shampoo. I’m afraid he will die while I’m gone and I don’t want him to die alone.

So I swaddle him up like a baby and tote him into the store with me to buy the shampoos. I cover his head and nobody notices. I got him home and washed and dried him the best that I could. I wanted to let him stay in the house with me til he dried off but he is still a flea farm. He was just so weak in the tub that I didn’t want to push it.

I went out in the garage and petted on him awhile ago. He’s drying off and started purring. I so hope he doesn’t die. If he makes it, I’ll give him a couple of days and then bathe him again to try and get all of the fleas.

He is so skinny that you can’t poke your pinky between his shoulder blades. That’s how close together they are.

You can tell a lot about people by the way they treat their animals. Sure, your house is all tidy and you act all nice when people are looking…but I KNOW how you are.

28 Comments | In: excuse me while i scream, here kitty-kitty! | | #

First off, no offense to any cat lovers. I LIKE CATS. Cats that live inside or stay in their yard or are respectful of boundaries. I know some of you have cats. I like your cats. I like to see pictures of them and YOUR cats seem very civilized and if you were to ever grace me with a visit – you would be more than welcome to bring your bundle of love.

Does anyone have a good method of getting rid of cats that doesn’t involve nuking the neighborhood? Our neighbors have a bunch of the hairy bastards and they keep coming into our garage and pissing on everything. And shitting. There is nothing that will make your day more glittery-special than coming home from work and stepping in catshit. We have a cat (Girl) and I love her. I feed her wet food twice a day! I wouldn’t be as upset if it was her shit. But to have it coming from a nasty pissy cat that bullies the hell out of mine is too much.

When I’m home during the day, I leave the garage door cracked a bit so Girl can come and go as she pleases. I’m afraid it’s too hot for her to be outside all day and she doesn’t like being cooped up in the garage with the door closed. The other cats take this as their invitation to completely fuck my place up. They spray my tires! My sweet little car’s shoes have been violated! And the smell? For the love of all that is good and holy, it smells like bad urine in there. (not to be confused with good urine!)

One of them (a 3-legged bastard) actually got trapped in our garage last night when I closed it. My first instinct was to beat his piss-spraying self with a broom but I gave him a chance. I opened the door and yelled at him at the top of my lungs so his owners could hear politely gave him to the count of five to hop on out. He did.

I’ve already decided that I’m going to start collecting the cat turds and depositing them somewhere in the neighbor’s yard on a weekly basis. My first thought was to hurl them into their yard as I found them each day but I decided I wanted to go with the dramatic. A turd here and there? You might miss them. A pile of them decaying by your mailbox? No overlooking that.

27 Comments | In: excuse me while i scream, grouching | | #

Many moons ago, my Mom had a dog. A blue chihuahua known as “Ernie”. My Dad got him for her when I was around 15 or so. When I was 18, I got married and moved about 3.5 hours away. I’d come home and visit about once a month. In October of that year (1994), I came home so I could go to the Halloween Carnival that was being held at my old high school. My sister and a friend were going too. We were all getting ready to leave the house when Ernie ran outside and would not come back in. He’d been outside before. We thought he’d be okay so we left. Mom was going to meet us at the school after she got off of work.

It was getting late and she wasn’t there so I called the house. Mom is sobbing and saying that we killed Ernie and she was burying him. He’d gotten hit by a car. It was storming and she was burying him in the rain. I honestly don’t think I’ve had a hand in anything else in my life that made me feel so shitty. To make up for it, I got her a new chihuahua a year later. He was christened Bud Light (with Mom’s Korean accent, it sounds like his name is BudLie. I like that.) and he’s still kicking and is Mom’s baby.

I woke up in the wee hours of the morning thinking about this and couldn’t get it out of my head.

Holy shit. What horribly irresponsible kids we were.

Okay. I need to think happy thoughts so I can go back to sleep.

My normal happy time thoughts involve getting to visit with my family. But when I thought about Mom, I thought about Ernie. When I thought about my niece, I thought about my sister and when I thought about my sister, I thought about how she was party to Ernie’s death. When I thought about Sweety, I thought about the boys and they had just killed Tiny Dog in my imagination. There was nowhere safe to retreat to in my head. This circle of craziness went on for over an hour.

I finally fell asleep and when I woke, the sun burned some of the crazy off of me.

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I clicked on my Twitter account (you can see the updates in the sidebar) yesterday morning and realized that my father was following me. (I think my sister showed him her account and she follows me.) And since my Twitter profile leads HERE, I had a tiny heart attack. I immediately called him and told him that he should never click over here in order to preserve his sanity. I pretty much made my blog out to be something that would turn a father into a pillar of salt. He said, “Well, they say you shouldn’t put anything on the internet that you’re ashamed of.” I told him I wasn’t ashamed of anything here but wanted to save him embarrassment. He does not need to see my boobs. Or hear about me sucking Sweety’s weenie.

Then I went on a giant Twitter purge (if you haven’t talked back to me when I talked to you in the past few days) and block (if I knew you before this blog was born) and I feel cleansed now. I will now physically phone call more people so they do not feel that they need to follow me on Twitter.

I was a cunt hair away from killing Twitter and the blog.

Did you see the movie The Wrestler? We watched it tonight. I can totally see why it is taken as a good movie. But dammit, I like a happy ending. I would have been pissed off if we’d have paid to see it in the theater. I’m washing away the sadness with Pineapple Express. I’ve already seen it (in the theater!) but I like it. I might watch it AGAIN tonight.

Oh! The Rocker! I’ve got that and Sweety hasn’t enjoyed it properly. I’ll shove that down his throat after this!

…..a lot of time has passed since i wrote that last sentence.

In the meantime…

Tiny Dog bit the hell out of me because I was taunting her with a french fry. Bitch does NOT like her fries to be teases.

We are still watching Pineapple Express. Thank goodness for pause buttons.

Love is letting your Sweety have 2 cheeseburgers when you want one of them.

Love is still loving your Tiny Dog when she won’t eat from your mouth. I thought she’d like a bit of burger and fries since she begged for that shit but she refused. Sweety laughed while she snubbed me. That’s okay. I’ll still sneak her in the bed and sniff her toes.

And here is me 2 weeks ago ish (i fucking hate when people say “ish”, but Sweety does it so I do too.”

Please, pay no attention to my ruffled eyebrows. I wish I could photoshop those fuckers straight.

18 Comments | In: excuse me while i scream, saturday night gratuitous photo, toast | | #