"Your dogs are on the bed," Ned told me this morning. They completely destroyed the gate downstairs and made their escape. Again. Ned is back down there with his power tools, which is what SHE said.
Never gets old.
"Why don't you just admit defeat?" I asked him. "My dogs won't be fenced in." But Ned refuses to give up. The funny part is, when I fed the cats this morning, I told the dogs to go downstairs, and they did, and when I went downstairs they were standing at the entryway to the dining room, just like they always did when they had a gate. It's like that Laurel and Hardy, where Stan Laurel had been a prisoner of war for so long that once he was free all he WANTED was beans, as that's the sole thing he'd been given as a prisoner.
Anyway, other than the continuing saga of Gategate 2015, I had a weekend.
I asked my work husband, Ryan, to join me after work, as Ned, Naughty Pro, Slutty Pancakes and I were headed to the First Friday events downtown, but seeing as he's 26 and all, he decided to just go home and make dinner.
What the hell is wrong with his generation. I never went home once throughout my 20s. I don't know why I even paid rent, I was home so seldom. Go home and make dinner. You know what else I've never done, ever? Is go home and MAKE dinner.
Fortunately, I had people from my own generation to not make dinner with.
Before we got up with The Naughty Pro, Ned and I had gone to this low-key diner we like, to have dinner, and they were having this fancy prime rib night, with tablecloths and bottle of wine. Who even knew that place had a liquor license? They sat us right in the middle of the room, and we are both too scared to say, "Hey, this table sucks," but it was a terrible table. Waitresses kept buzzing past us and knocking my purse askew. We were inches from the people on either side of us. And it wasn't full in there. We totally should have stood up for ourselves, even if we WEREN'T getting the fancy prime rib.
The point is, Naughty Pro told us a story about a terrible disagreement he got into with a very confrontational woman. Because she had nothing more clever up her sleeve, she tried to use the gay card to insult NP. "I'm more of a woman than you'll ever be, and more of a man than you'll ever get," he told her.
And that is why I heart Naughty Pro.
Anyway, eventually we got up with Slutty Pancakes, as well, but I already showed you 40 pictures of her yesterday.
Ooo! And when we left, Ned and me, to go home, we were headed to the car when this young boy walked past and whispered to me, "You're sexy." I mean, damn right. But still! Ned said he saw that guy looking at me for a long time as we approached. It's hard for men when you have All This.
On Saturday, I had to take the dogs to the vet for their shots, and on either side of me, people were having their pets put down. I don't mean their pets were being roasted, although in a way, they were, if they went for cremation. I could tell by my vet's voice she was delivering bad news to the people on my right, then the tech came in and told me my vet had two euthanasias to do and would it be okay if I waited a bit and I said sure, throw in Edsel while she's got the shot.
Eventually, they came to get my dogs for the vaccine/nail trim portion of my $422 visit, so I wandered around the office a bit. This time of year they often have kittens out front, and I was hoping for that, but no. I did find some Bit-O-Honey in the dish, though, which is almost as good as a kitten.
The point is, I passed the room to the left of me, and saw the woman and my vet both crying. Just seeing that made ME cry, which is stupid, so I went in my little room and sobbed and smeared my makeup and could barely enjoy my Bit-O-Honey. I mean, I don't want you to worry, I managed to enjoy it more than is decent. Still.
When my vet finally came in, I said, "I don't know how you do your job." "Well, I have to be there when they're healthy and then when they aren't." Then she and I talked about why people go too far to keep their poor animals alive when they're sick and suffering. I mean, to each their own, but if my pets are in pain and there's no cure, I'm ending it for them. I don't want to keep them around just to mollify me. You know? I mean, I did call the animal psychic and mix bovine powder into turkey baby food for Mr. Horkheimer, but he was still purring and lolling his increasingly skinny self in the sun then. God, he used to be an enormous cat. He was 20 pounds of pure Hork. Then one day he looked a little riby, and that was the beginning of the end. I think he was around 12 pounds when he died.
How did I get on this awful subject?
Anyway, last night, there was some ridiculous fight on, Mayflower vs Packing Peanuts or something, and Ned paid
ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS
to see it on Pay a Lot Per View.
I complained about it on Facebook, and TinaDoris saw it. "Oh, are you watching that?" she asked. "Can we come over?"
So, at 11:00 at night, she and Mr. TinaDoris came with treats and drinks, because you know how it is at my house, and we all watched this fight, which seemed staged and not like they were really fighting much at all.
I did not tell them both to show off their drinks, but they both did. TinaDoris was drinking coconut water, as she is knocked up, and apparently that's what you drink when you are knocked up. Note that she is one of those "I look completely the same except for this brief blip of a stomach" pregnant women, as opposed to poor Kim Kardashian, who became all three Kardashian sisters at once for awhile. You know it's a bad day when you're bigger than Khloe. I mean, even Lamar thought that. "Wow, am I getting bigger than Khloe? I better knock it off with the Frito burritos."
June's blog. Come for the euthanasia jokes. Stay for LamarSpeak.
To be fair, Taco Bell's Frito burritos are amazing. Like you know how people do that annoying hashtag and/or emoticon "SoBlessed"? We should start a new one, "SoFritoBurrito." That's how good they are.
Here's Ned, looking mean. You know, Ned brought me flowers this weekend for no reason, AND he grilled chicken wings for us yesterday, plus also he's fixing the gate, although let's face it. The only person in this house who wants a gate is Ned. If it were up to me, Tallulah'd be on my lap right now.
Apparently, when you are pregnant, you are hot, like, physically hot. I say this because Lily was obsessed with sitting on TinaDoris. Lily will gladly sit on anyone, but when she got off TD and came to me, her fur was BURNING HOT where she'd been on TinaD. Babies are hot, apparently. Who knew? I don't mean babies are the new black, and if TD's baby is the new black, she has a lot of explaining to do.
Lily was probably just waiting to that baby to come out, so she could suck the breath out of it. That's what my grandmother used to say cats did--they got in the crib and sucked the breath out of babies. Gramma was not what you'd all a huge cat fan.
Okay, I am going. Ned is done with the gate and has gone to lie down, and I am going to go poke at him and pester him.
Here's Ned, looking mean.