Not a bad day at work. Came home, Sploofused a bit, talked to my Aunt (Dad’s sister) about Macaulay/Bill’s graduation. I hadn’t talked to her since Christmas so it was nice to catch up. In a good mood, then I ruined it by reading a sad story about a doggie on petfinder.com. It’s really a lot better for me if I just stick to blogs and trivia. A rescue group posted about a dog and then updated the post to indicate the poor baby’s time had run out. I love my two so much, but I wonder if maybe I should have adopted from a pound or ASPCA or something. The rescue group was a no-kill, so Scooby and Betty were good to go no matter what. I hate that I can’t save every sad eyed doggie, that I can’t deliver endless bags of puppy food to the rescue where we got our dogs from, that the same group may go under because of government regulations. I’m just one person and it’s the thin end of the wedge or else I’ll end up the crazy dog lady with 1000 homeless beagles in her home. Two down, 998 to go! I’m still haunted by the dog we saw at the gas station on our way to OH. Is he safe? Did someone take him with them? Are they good people? They don’t have to go fucking yuppy dog owner crazy like we do, just feed him good food and get him away from the gas station and the highway and into a warm house.
Gene has it on the brain that I have a new boyfriend (not sure if it’s in addition to or in place of Paolo, my other boyfriend) named Walter, because I wrote “Watters 8348” on an Amazon.com bookmark. “Watters 8348” is supposed to be the mysterious Walter’s phone number because “You can probably memorize the first 3 digits of his #”. Here is Watters 8348, although they must have changed the style #. I recognize the dress. I think I had my eye on it for when I was a matron of honor back in 2003 – it was too pricy and probably too matronly, but it’s still pretty awesome. I liked what we ended up with and it was half the price, too…
If you haven’t already figured it out, there is no boyfriend. Additionally, there is no girlfriend, paramour, mister, mistress, fuckbuddy, boytoy or piece o’ ass. Other than the husband. Who has time for an affair? Right now I’m supposed to be cleaning the guest bathroom. Shhhh… don’t tell anyone I’m blogging instead.
Cletus and Melissa are well…I’m still supposed to call the baby by his real name, but again, he’s not born yet and what if they decide to name him something dopey, like Justice Jalen or something? Why add to the confusion? Still, no one got them the Boppy and I have to admit I’m really feeling the need to just buy the damn thing, already….
Buy it. Buy it. Buy it.
You know you want to.