i’ll get you, my pretty … 4/21/2006
so, our neighbor across the street bought what is to my mind the single most obnoxious fashion accessory available, one of those awful little asshole shitbags masquerading as dogs that people like to call chihuahuas. i have no idea what fugue of insanity one has to fall into to find these things cute, much less how many diesel/turpentine cosmos one has to pound to decide to purchase one, but there must be a bar somewhere. a bar with cots where people drink turpentine all day and they pass out chihuahuas.
anyway, her fucking dog. HER FUCKING DOG. god, i can’t tell what’s worse, chihuahuas or their owners, you know? seriously. which is worse? the creepy-ass bug-eyed shivering, quivering little semi-bald insects for whom the default exhalation of every breath they take in is a high-pitched yarp, or the fucking freaks who find it all endearing, and who naturally think the rest of us do too. she carries it around in a little sack, presumably because she wouldn’t want to over-tire it, lest it not have enough energy for the barking frenzy it will sustain the rest of the fucking day. people, this bitch lets her fucking rat out of the house to run up and down our block and bark at the sidewalk every fucking half hour starting at seriously six am.
SIX IN THE AM.
my husband and i are vegetarians but my cat is not, and im pretty sure, even though she’s declawed (we didn’t do it) and afraid of the vacuum cleaner, that she could kick it’s ass. anyway, i’d probably be willing to bend the dietary rules a little since everyone’s always telling me i don’t get enough protein.
maybe some roast rat is just what i need.