Brain Barf

May contain traces of nuts.

Monday, August 08, 2005


A person can get to a point, where/when they are unable to control certain major aspects of their lives (free will can suck ass vomit), so they focus on the the less hostile objects.
  1. Mr. Kipper Jones. The dog I rescued from my neighbors, because even his most basic needs were not being met. More like, they were fucking starving him, and put him on a chain IN his kennel when he tried to dig his way out to water in 105 degree weather. I can't afford this dog. I don't need or want ANOTHER dog, but I have to honor the task I brought on myself... I bought his shots at the local feed store and administered them myself...potty trained him...and taught him how to play fetch. It is sad but true, that abused dogs can make the very best pets. He is astonishingly smart (smarter than my two dogs combined, but I'll deny that statement), he brought my husbands shoe to him tonight (possibly because it was the most fragrant). I'm NOT falling in love with this dog (LIAR) because I have enough (way too fucking much) on my plate already. Truly, the add is going in the paper tomorrow, BUT the respondents will be harshly screened (maybe with visitation rights).
  2. New Mr. Feisty Fridgedaire Dishwasher. When you balked at being plumbed and wired, I looked under the skirts of my sisters dishwasher and she gave me (with a few on-line sources) all the info I needed. You WILL wash for me, for I am your master.
  3. Mr. Porcelain/Tile Bathroom. I am not entirely sure how to appropriately address you. I have painted you, plunged you, replaced your loose tiles, removed your hardwater deposits and dressed you up in fancy new linens...Because I'm a girl and I like that. Let it be known that if you ever decide to clog on me again, I WILL call in the men with the nasty rooter snakes and give my favors to the downstairs bath. I'll play nice as long as you do.
  4. Mr. Asexual aphid. Leave my fucking petunias, roses and other assorted purdy flowers alone, or I will cease the dish soap/cayenne treatments and bring in the big toxic boys, no matter how it pains me or the Salmon. Choose wisely nasty green bug.
  5. Mr. HOLIER than though air ring on my above ground pool. Have I not patched you enough? My arms tire from inflating your ego/ring. REVEAL your leak, or I will abandon you, and use my city pool pass. Yes, my children and I will resort to swimming in public urine if you do not reveal your sources. I shan't provide another chlorine tablet or filter for you until you speak up.
  6. To my sweet warm tomatoes. Above all, I regret not having the time to plant or nourish you. I have missed you more than any other anti-oxidant. I remember our times last summer and how you healed me. Please understand that I am suffering your absence as much as you are. I promise, the store bought tomatoes meant nothing to me.


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