Not Pet Peeves, but Major Psychotic Episodes

to the boy who has the biggest member in our whole entire house!!!

Watson, Spores and I present Montgomery Klaus. We call him Monty for short. Watson has taken the role of ‘mother hen.’ Monty is such a good boy, he has learned to pee on his special puppy-attracting pee pads already!

More details to come, we pick him up on Saturday.

And yet another thing that’ll put me into a murderous rage… Those fuckers who put OBX stickers on the back of their amerikun mini-vans and SUVs. Have another kid and open another Yuengling/Budwiser/Coors/RollingRock/whatever brand of frat piss beer you drown your reality with and take that summer vacation to the outer banks. Whooooo-hooooo! Livin’ the dream!

So we turned over the keys to the whipple street house. I am experiancing a weird sensation in my chest, a bittersweet surrender and almost heartache. I will never set foot in that house again. I am really bummed over this– I mean, the finality of it. At the very least when we owned the house, I could go over and ’see’ it. I get so attached to inanimate objects. Probably yet another sign of my deep personality disorder(s).

The new owners. haa. what morons. a frat-boy duesch(F.B.D.) and his fiance (S.K.A.N.K) . “oh we can be close to our other frat-friends so we can take turns watching the game on sundays.” Whaaa? I did envy the huge rock on her finger, to be honest. Nevermind. You did NOT see me say that. The F.B.D. was an esq., a lawyer who represented himself and the (S.K.A.N.K), both were not interesting or had really anything interesting to say. Gawd, at least they could’ve entertained me. I NEED ENTERTAINED PEOPLE!

I think that’s what bothers me the most: the ordinaryness. dammit, surround me with people who are not predictable. I would’ve been so happy if they are going to turn the house into a crack-den, or a bordello, or even an HQ for a new wacky jebus cult, but nooooooo. C’mon be a little more creative.

I am cranky and going to bed. *grumps back to bed, hands in robe pocket, hunched-over, shuffling her ancient slippers along the way*

It sucks outside. There is so much ice I can’t walk up the hill to get to the bus, let alone get the car out of the garage and up the driveway. Watson, Spores and I are going to stay home and watch movies on my new ginormous 50′’ HD PLASMA TV!!! Haaa-HAAA.

I suck. The last post is fucked. Happy Monday.

My verymostfavoritemovie-ever.

And the last line:

“He’s comin’ back tomorrow with more cotton…We got nothin’ to do but wait for tomorrow and see if we’re remembered or forgotten.”