Benjaminoballbaby was here for the weekend, yeah again. All afternoon he was insisting we go to the pub; he too is addicted, however, for very different reasons–chicken enchiladas, not beer like his sister. I walked out of the room to find my shoes only to return to this:
Seriously, i was gone for two minutes and already he’s dead asleep. I think having a mullet and porn-stache are sucking the life out of the lad.
daisy, the one-eyed wonder, had a vet appointment last night. she absolutely hates the vet now, and really who can blame her…the bandits stole her eye. she’s hyper and happy to be there up until the point dr. barney walks into the room, then she runs for safety. it’s a little funny to see her huddled up in the corner, but mostly it’s just sad to see how scared she is. i guess i’d be freaked out too if i only had one eye left, and worried that they would snatch it at any given moment.
you know the drill, it’s just like an appointment with your doctor, before you can see the vet you have to have a tech come in and take a few notes in the chart and whatever time wasting techniques they have to extend your visit. this time the vet tech was a new girl, yay for me! when she asked the reason for the appointment, i said “ she’s had some depth perception problems lately and i wanted to see what’s causing that”. i know, i know…i’m a horrible person, trust me, i’ve heard it all before. BUT, the look on her face was well worth the dose of bad karma. she was so confused, here is a dog with one eye and the owner is concerned about depth perception?
just one more office i’m going to be blacklisted from. awesome.
i met justin for lunch, mission:garden burger, destination:red robin. being the people watcher that i am, i couldn’t help but browse the crowd for something; just a little something, that’s all i ask.
camouflage. i know this isn’t the first time i’ve discussed camo, and surely it won’t be the last. it can’t be helped, there is just something about a man in camouflage, and that something typically involves some sort of dry-heaving on my part, today’s fella did not disappoint.
clear your mind of any images if you will– now picture a beer belly clad in camouflage (certainly not concealing anything), a handle-bar mustache atop his mouth, the mouth that blew me a burp, yeah, a burp. disgusting! i’m sure that mating ritual works in the huntin’ world, but not here. in the future, fucko, limit your nasty burp calls to the animal kingdom, and your manly man table. that would be lovely, umm thanks.
