bitches, snapping traps, and fighting fish…

Let’s see…the proper way to start this blog, as though a letter, which I have given up, would be to ask…how was your day?

My day? The plus side. No mice.

Oh, but I pimped my little dog out to a cock-a-poo today. That sentence alone elicits uncontrollable giggles. Call me Beavis…or Butthead.

My solution to the never-ending humping of the big dog. Find her a mate. She is a feisty bitch, and I mean that literally.

Little dog just getting through her, um…shall we say amorous phase? Well, she would have nothing to do with her ‘new friend’s’ persuasive ways. She really bitched slapped him silly, to the point that he shit himself. Really…shit in the corner of the house. The owners took him out to finish his business and she howled for him to return.

I don’t know much about dog love, but that sounds like a match made in heaven.

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A heaven that will become my hell in 6 months, and nine weeks. Providing all goes well.

Shaking myself off, feeling a little dirty. Should be wearing my purple velour suit and my pimp daddy hat.

 

Unemployment.

Yet again gaining experience for my resume.

Ah, just another seed in the wind…in so many ways.

Just as I get ready to finish this reflection of the day the mouse trap snaps. Truly, I kid you not. I am little dog’s boyfriend in a corner, walking on counters, waking the Muppets, checking the trap.

I really should consider breeding cats of some hunting quality or wish upon a dandelion that I could release Norman and Warren Betta fish in a survival of the fittest challenge.

A freak show ninja biggest loser amazing race cross species of greatest talent type of show.

Bitches beyond, traps upheld, and fishes at the gate…I see a great future.

Tomorrow I will write you a letter to explain.

 

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