I am not a morning person. I know, there are many of you with whom I share the cranky ass morning bitch boat with. You know not to take it personally when I threaten to drown you if you don’t shut the hell up while I go about the long and arduous process of feeling alive. Let’s be friends after I have a pot of coffee, moved around a bit and possibly have taken a shower, okay? Is that too much to ask…maybe let me warm up, find out if the world burned down while we were sleeping and figure out which step in world domination I am at. I especially need to know about the world’s status so I can accurately predict if I should expect to serve prison time for murdering anyone because the only action I am able to complete within thirty minutes of waking up, is to poke out the eyes of the offending annoyance and maybe light them on fire. I have issues, I know this, but once The Man and I became inhabitants of the same space- we not only had to deal with each other’s general crankiness but also our retarded monsters loyal pets.
|Don’t be fooled by that sweet puppy face.|
He has China, an adorable on the outside Rat Terrier but ferocious Pit Pull on the inside who seems to really enjoy biting the fuck out of my ass, hand, fingers or anything else she connects with. If I speak she goes ferocious, so she especially doesn’t like it when I handle her. Sometimes I do, but only when The Man is away or comatose somewhere. China is a blind, diabetic, old, rescued abused dog. All you need to get out of that is she’s a wickedly confident little bitch who gets shots twice a day and only loves The Man. Shots at 5 a.m. and 5 p.m. everyday. Her new favorite activity is sniffing around the house and bouncing off walls, the furniture or anything else she can’t see while tracking where the cat is and is going.
|I own this place, bitches.|
Rebel is mildly retarded, has little seizures, his tail is kinked and lopped of due to some kitten accident that happened to him before he was tossed into a shelter and he is the most co dependant being I have ever met. You can’t shut a door in the house, like the bathroom door, or he will sit outside and meow like he is being murdered while reaching his cute little fuzzy white paws under the door to make sure you hear and see how pathetically lonely he is. I never pee or shower without him if I want to do so with any measure of peace and quiet. He follows me all over the house and if he is not right behind me, he is getting in pounce position around some corner waiting for me to walk by so he can leap out and attack me. That’s really adorable until his claws connect to my calf and then he bites me. Isn’t love awesome? Rebel torments China and we are certain he is aware the dog can’t see him. If China walks by Rebel’s perch- he will reach down and swat her on the head. If China happens to track Rebel down, he will wait until she is nose to nose with him then spring over her resulting in poor blind dog snarling at the air and probably pissing on herself from retard cat scaring her half to death. It’s always fun and games until it’s time for China to get her shot, and that is when I wonder if a nice NyQuil & whiskey shot for China and Rebel would be okay in PETA’s eyes.
The alarm goes off at 5:00 In the fucking morning, every morning. One of us stumbles to the kitchen to heat China’s food, prepare her insulin shot and get her treat ready. Rebel is right behind meowing and sticking his big head and butt in the refrigerator. No one has had coffee yet and the bipeds in the kitchen have very short fuses. Grouchy, tired, insulin deprived dog shows up and she is not happy that Rebel is here to steal her cheese. So, while balancing hot dog food, a piece of cheese (because China will not eat without a cheese appetizer), an insulin shot and a post-I’m sorry you have to get a shot twice a day- dog treat; we have to keep one foot between needy cat and pissed off dog. The food goes on the floor and the rioting retards scramble for the cheese. Rebel is tossed into the bedroom and the oh my Jeebus I’m dying of loneliness meowing commences. “I’mmmm soooo looonely even though I just saw you five seconds ago and I know you will let me out in a few minutes”. How about a piece of cheese then, Rebel. Cat doesn’t like his cheese flat on the ground- he would prefer me to roll it into little balls for him. Even though the dog needs her life saving shot right now and I am so tired that I am not even sure whose house I am in. I must channel Martha Stewart to execute the perfect finicky kitten cheese ball so he will be quiet, quit knocking at the door and pissing the dog off so I can give her a shot and maybe stumble back to bed with all of my fallangies accounted for and attached to my hands.
|I know there’s cheese in her somewhere.
Maybe a beer.
|Today’s flavor: Cowgirl with a side of bad ass.|