I'm pretty sure I still have two dogs, somewhere.*
See the thing is I haven't seen either one of those shits in about a week.
WHY, you may ask.
Is it because I don't care. Fuck you, I care. I love those little fuckers.
Is it because I starve them. Wrong again fuck face. My phubster feeds them every fucking day, and he gives them water too, and he makes them poo. At least I think so, like I said I haven't seen them in a week.
Is it because I sold them to the black market. As much as I would love to the phubster would never forgive me, so for the sake of our marriage, no.
Is it because I knowingly left the back yard gate open. See the answer above.
So pray tell where are said animals? I assume they are in their kennels. The kennels are in the laundry room where it's relatively nice and quiet and child free. My dogs think my children are the spawn of Satan. Actually let me rephrase that. They think my daughter is the spawn of Satan.
The little monster really does want to love them, but after the whole tail caught in the vacuum catastrophe of June 2011 they stay clear of her and away and out of trouble. Although on a technicality the dogs are both mine there is an agreement between the phubster and I about their care and maintenance.
It goes like this:
Me: You want the kids or the dogs?
Ph: The dogs.
Me: Son of a bitch!
Ph: They're your dogs.
Me: They're your kids.
Ph: They like you better.
Me: Fine you owe me.
Ph: No, you owe me.
Me: Screw you!
Ph: That's what she said!
This of course if followed by me giving the phubster the bird, and him mouthing the words "fuck you" while I roll my eyes. We are such a loving couple, it just warms my little heart in all the right places.
So pretty much I don't mess with them during the week. I mean I'll pet them and stuff, and I gave one of them a bath like a month ago, but otherwise it's all the phubster. And damn him to hell if he doesn't love those little assholes. He's always out walking them and feeding them and brushing their hair. I mean shit. It's like he actually cares about them. (Eye roll).
Ok, I'm kidding. I'm glad the phubster is responsible for something in our married lives and it does make my life a whole lot easier to not worry about our other two children, but I am a little worried that I haven't seen them in awhile. I suppose it warrants further investigation.... stay tuned...
**ON ANOTHER NOTE**
It's called a fucking STOP SIGN you stupid WHORE.
I almost died (again!) today when some stupid whore decided that she couldn't even give me the courtesy of a California Roll at a stop sign. I mean I could have used the two seconds to give her the bird while she sped away. BUT NO. NO BLINKER, NO STOP, NOTHING but the ass of her ugly beater car almost swiping the front of my car. Stupid CUNT.
Seriously. I MEAN FUCKING SERIOUSLY.
You can't possibly be this stupid. You did pass the driving test wherein you had to use your blinkers, put on your seat belt and STOP at red lights and mother fucking stop signs. Why you feel the need to suddenly stop remembering that SHIT and try to commit vehicular manslaughter is beyond me. Damn you.
For the record people if you can't do the simple courtesy of using your mother fucking blinkers, and stopping when appropriate don't DRIVE dumb shit.
Ugh. Fuck. That.
Lesson for today.....
1. Bitches can't drive for shit
2. Find my fucking dogs and make sure they're like alive and stuff*
(*disclaimer/update: before you animal loving, tree hugging, I only eat vegetable weirdos get on my case about my animals I'll have you know that they were not hurt during the making of this post, and they are in fact safe in their kennels at home, well fed, watered, and pooped. So stop judging me you hypocritical self loathing hippie commie bastards.)
