Tuesday, September 20, 2011

That Dog Is Running With Purpose

While driving home from the movies last weekend...

Me: Look at that dog!
Him: I see him.
Me: Awww, he’s all white and cute and fluffy.
Him: *pretending his wife doesn't desperately want to adopt a dog* Looks dirty.
Me: Stop! He has a collar, we need to stop and catch him!
Him: Why?
Me: Because he’s obviously lost and maybe his owner’s number is on his collar.
Him: Doesn't look lost to me. He looks like he knows where he’s going.
Me: *stare* What?
Him: He’s running with purpose. He obviously knows his destination, so we don’t need to stop.
Me: He looks like he knows where he’s going? How is that even possible? He’s a dog. They all look like that when they run.
Him: He didn’t look confused at all.
Me: You mean if he were really lost, he’d look confused?
Him: Yeah. You know, he’d be stopping every five seconds to look around. Maybe he’d be looking up at the sky thoughtfully. Maybe he'd pretend to talk on his cell phone while he wandered aimlessly.
Me: That’s what you do when you can’t find our car in the parking lot.
Him: Exactly. That right there was a dog with a good sense of direction.
Me: *looking out back window* Oh great, I can’t see him anymore. I’m gonna be so mad at you if I see him dead on the side of the road tomorrow.

And then this morning I totally got this email from our subdivision HOA communications lady:

Subject: Oso loose again

Has anyone seen this dog?

Forwarded message:
Our 2 year old opened our back door around 6pm last night and let out our white Siberian husky again. If anyone has seen him, please call.

Me: *dialing phone* Great...just great.
Him: Hello?
Me: Yeah hi. Remember that dog that was running with purpose on Saturday night?
Him: Yep.
Me: Yeah, he was lost. Totally lost. I got an email about him this morning.
Him: Huh, no kidding.
Me: His name is Oso and he’s a white Siberian husky and his house is in the exact opposite direction from where he was running.
Him: That’s weird.
Me: Because you totally thought he knew where he was going.
Him: No, I meant that’s a weird name for a dog. Oso. No wonder he was running away. I’d run away too if that was my name.
Me: Now I have to call and tell them we saw their dog but we didn’t stop because my husband thought it looked like he knew where he was going.
Him: You should suggest they think of a better name for their next dog.
Me: You’re so helpful.
Him: It’s a gift.

p.s. The Captain and I are back on the wagon. We started the Couch to 5K program again this week. Someone help...my thighs are burning with so much purpose right now.

Friday, September 16, 2011

My Name Is Miss Yvonne. You Deleted My Talk Show. Prepare To Die.

Sometimes it really sucks having renters in your house. Sometimes they do really annoying and fucking stupid things. Things that 99.9% of the human population would not do. Like if you heard about someone doing those things you would be all “No way is anyone that stupid/rude/inconsiderate". And then? Your fucking renter does them and you feel the sudden urge to gouge their eyeball out with one of those tiny relish forks because it is the exact perfect size for eyeballs and that bastard totally deserves it.

Like maybe your renters buy scooters and ride them through the mud and then track the mud through the house and then leave their muddy shoes by the door and then fucking lie when you ask if they walked through your house with muddy shoes on.

Or maybe your renters decide to use your pasta strainer to clean their fish tank rocks but don’t plan on telling you they did it and thank you baby Jesus that you noticed it was missing before they returned it and you used it to strain your pasta and now you’re totally eating spaghetti ala fish poop for dinner. And then they giggle like three year olds when you ask them why they did it.

Perhaps your renter decides while you are out of town for the weekend to go out and get completely wasted and bring an equally wasted couple home from the bar with him that he has never met before in his life, then passes out in his bed while this drunk couple hang out in your house all night totally unsupervised and then your other renter gets up at 3am to pee and sees this strange couple fucking on your couch. Then you have to call your renter and yell at him and when you get home, all of your booze is missing and he “has no idea who took it”.

Oh! Here’s a good one. Your renter goes out and gets wasted AGAIN, only this time it’s during a weird Texas snowstorm, and he gets arrested for drunk driving and doesn’t come home for 3 days, so you think he must be dead in a ditch somewhere, and then he shows up and is all “Hey, I got arrested and have to go to court and can you please drive me there because they took my license away? Also, my kids are gonna come live here with me for like, 2 or 3 weeks and maybe they will stay forever. That’s cool, right?”.

Could be that your renter turns out to be a reclusive hoarder who packs the bedroom she is living in to the ceiling with junk, but you don’t really notice how much she has in there until it’s too late. Also she has a cat. Also she’s morbidly obese and orders a pizza and three sub sandwiches and keeps them in her room to eat on for two days. Also she decides to move to another country and doesn’t start packing until the night before her flight. Also after she’s gone, you realize she’s left 50 (I am not exaggerating, y’all) bags of trash, a bed, a table, an office chair and a dirty litter box in her room for you to dispose of. Also she emails you a week later to ask when you will be sending her deposit back. Also you totally flip out and write back that it will be a cold day in hell when she gets her deposit back and then spend two weeks obsessively cleaning the room while whispering “unclean…unclean…”.

And then maybe after all of those morons, you somehow get lucky and your next renter is great. He’s your son’s friend, so you worry at first that maybe this was a bad idea. But he is respectful and sweet and is sad when we are not home because “I miss you guys when you aren’t here”. He pays his rent on time. He is a little scared of making you mad, thanks to some well placed looks and comments about not pissing you off because you’re a fucking genius when it comes to intimidation. But he still says “bye family” when he leaves for work and sits down to tell us all about his day when he gets home. You know, like your own child would do if they weren’t going through a completely selfish and asshole-y phase right now. You have no complaints, things are going wonderfully.

And then?



He’s fucking terrified. He knows what he did and now he’s hiding from me. I haven’t seen him since Monday. I hope he’s prepared for when we meet again, because shit is about to go down, yo. You don’t fuck with a woman’s talk show recordings. Never. Never ever. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet. But retribution will be swift and terrible.