You Ain't Nuttin but a Hound Dog. Cryin' All the Time

Okay. 2:55 am. Friday night. Actually, technically Sat morning since i did write A.M. The boys just left and here I am in a strange bed.

Wait wait wait. That doesn't sound right. Let me start all over again.

So, I'm apt sitting for my non best friend and her gf. They're headed out west and were generous to let me loaf around their apt while they're outtie. They wanted to gimme a break from my current living sitch b/c they know I'm stuck at my parents' place but hopefully not for long. Don't get me wrong, my parents are amazing people. They're really good people, big hearts and super chill. But. I'm friggin 25 yrs old for crying outloud. I need to escape. I love them with all my heart and then some and me moving out will never change this. However. ITS BEEN 25 MOTHAFUCKING YEARS AND I NEED SOME MOTHA FUCKING SPACE!

Whoa. I almost wrote motha fuckin' snakes. I think anytime i hear 'mothafuckin' i seem to channel Samuel L. Jackson.

All that's irrelevent. What is relevant is where I said I was in a strange bed. As in laying in a bed I am not familiar with. I did NOT however say a STRANGER'S bed. Now that's just super creepy.

Anyways. To kick off the weekend and my freedom and help perpetuate my "Lost" infatuation, I had some of the guys over tonight--Stan, David R and Justin. Kentucky (Tennessee? I dunno. Some state where they marry in the family and eat road kill) bourbon, Crown Royal and doritos abound.

Oh and the crazy neighbor to chat us up about God knows what during a smoke break. Yeah he's not actually crazy--just lonely says Justin--but crazy, says I.

Good times. Laughing, jokes and insults exchanged, what's not to enjoy?

Oh wait, the mothafuckin' DOG. Who is currently whining and barking. I'm totally not staying another night here b/c of him. Or any other night. I CANT deal with that. It's not that I hate dogs or even that dog specifically. I don't think so at least. All I know is that it wont just shut the fuck up! It's whining and barking when my FULL attention is NOT on it and running around like a fucking lunatic. Well guess what? Know what happens to dogs that get on my fucking nerves? Yes. They get captured by the boys and tossed back into the crate b/c it's fucking fucking FUCKING ruining my pseudo-apt experiment. Fuck this. A weekend is supposed to be fun. Not making sure someone else is happy and to coerce it to stop bitching. Esp not a fucking DOG.

I always thought I was a dog person. I always said I love dogs.

Yeah well not anymore. Dogs are like kids or boyfriends (or girlfriends depending on what youre into). NEEDY AS FUCK.

This particular four legged little shit has not stopped irritating me since I got here. Occassionally he's be very sweet and on his very best behaviour and doing his own thing, then snaps back into fucking needy psycho mode.

I saw the poor stinker in the crate when i came in and i just figured he could use some freedom. I let him out and that was the worst idea ever ever. No one told me it would be opening pandora's box.

And that fucker is STILL barking even though he's back in the crate, lights are off, etc. I know he doesn't know any better but I do. And i'm not going to spend my weekend reasoning with a dog. Tomorrow a.m. back to my place where there are no dogs.

Humorous as this blog may be, there is a downer to this situation. Non-best friend and her gf were gonna be my roommates in cali. now with this psycho dog in play, I really doubt it. Bummer!

And. I had no idea just how independent I really am. Jeebus.