the dog blog

Katie and I hung out tonight with the almost 9 year-olds (who were driving me crazy) and the 3 dogs (who were also driving me crazy). What a load of crap the past couple of days have been. For the past 30 hours I have subsisted on coffee and cigarettes and almost no sleep. And apparently they are making smokes shorter these days cuz when I opened them up I realized they're like a model of a real cigarette...and they're called "Marlboro 72's." What the fuck is up with that? I'll be happier when I get used to the night shift and when somebody invents some food that actually sounds appetizing. Even spicy tuna sounds disgusting right now.

I decided that it might just be really cool to be a dog...a cute dog, like Ursy. I would just be happy all the time as long as someone gave me food and water and a walk every day. I wouldn't take it personally when people were mean to me or didn't have time to hang out with me. I could be completely relaxed without Jack Daniels or Vicodin and I could just curl up and go to sleep whenever and wherever the hell I want. All I'd need is a tennis ball, a squeaky bunny, and a sick bone and I'm good to go.

Of course, as soon as I pee on the carpet or chew up a pillow, some ass clown will probably just drop me off on the side of the highway or at the fucking pound, but whatever. Beats being human and having a fucking heart.