I want you all to dry your tears and carry on like adults, but Juice has won the inflatable toast. Last night before I went to bed, I ran the random number generator to see who'd win at that time? And it was Juice. Then today, when I had the official number of comments? Juice won again.
God has spoken, y'all. Plus, what goes better than toast and Juice?
And speaking of gifts and food, people have been feeding me lately.
Not that I have taken to eating dogs. And do you know what I like about this dog? Is her short, stumpy nose part. What nose? I cannot smell you.
A few weeks ago, I was heading into PetSmart, as I do 900 million times a week, and a faithful reader spotted me. She told me she knew we'd see each other one day, as she similarly goes to that PetSmart 900 million times a week, so there are the odds right there. Anyway, if you recall--as I mentioned this when it happened--I found out she had greyhounds and totally invited myself to her house, and Thursday is when I eventually wedged myself in the door and made her feed me lunch.
Snout? I gots no snout. What you mean? I a Pug.
So I met her short, fat, no-nosed greyhounds and as you can imagine was totally indifferent to them. Did you know greyhounds are really mellow dogs? And I'm sorry. That first sentence in this paragraph was sarcastic, and then I meant the part about them being mellow. Keep up. Greyhounds are good apartment dogs, believe it or not.
There is a greyhound rescue place, and Laura and I are going to it together soon. Shut up.
In other people-are-feeding-me news--
Oh, wait. My mother and my best friend always want to know what I HAD when I eat places. I am kind of indifferent to that part, preferring to concentrate on the pet part. Faithful Reader Laura had a delicious spread of fruits and vegetables (strawberries, carrots, etc.), then chicken salad, a cucumber and dill salad, another thing that was risotto-y but that wasn't what it was. What was it, Laura? I ate a ton of it. Oh, and peanut butter Whoopie Pies.
When she was washing the strawberries I told her and her kids (oh, did I forget to mention she has kids?) that I'd found a tiny worm on my strawberry the day before.
"I don't feel like eating anymore," said her six-year-old daughter.
June. Ruining the appetites of kids since 2011.
Okay, so in OTHER people-feeding-me-news, I am in a book club in real life, and there is literally a Jewish mother in my book club, who I will call W. She has a whole name, I promise. Anyway, she got very concerned about everything going on in my life and asked if, after Passover, she could come over with an entire dinner for me.
Like I was gonna say no to that.
So I got some snacks, which the dogs promptly stuck their stupid tongues in right in front of her, and W. brought me homemade chili, brown rice, a salad, and even a can of Pellegrino. Then there were homemade cookies for dessert!
W. stayed for over an hour, despite the part where Tallulah fell desperately in love with her and kept PAWING her and Edsel kept LEAPING on her and OVER her and licking her EAR and really I don't know why anyone comes over, ever. And does anyone recall that BOTH dogs have been to obedience training? Cesar needs to MOVE IN to my home. Is Cesar single now?
Anyway, we had the best time. Well. I had the best time. She was probably counting the minutes till she could reasonably leave. I watched her nice pants get furrier and furrier until she looked like Chewbaca by the time she left.
So I am remaining well-fed and I do not know how I luck out in the friends department. I must seem sort of sad and hungry, like Dondi.
When did comics ever cost twelve cents?
At any rate, I am going now. To return to my statistics textbook. Which I have spent more than 10 hours on already and have not proofread page one of yet. I know. Don't you wish your weekend was hot like mine?
Comment of the week goes to the Chief, because come on. The Mt. Rushmore of lesbians? Click on This Week's Special if you wish to see.
They should totally make a Mt. Rushmore of Lesbians in real life.
