Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Weed and Windblown

This story is about a day that was much like many others. Alex had gone to school and work (at least, that's what she said she was doing...but seriously, why should I care? All I know is that when she's gone, I get my best sleeping done, but I digress) and I had stayed at the condo. Later in the afternoon, my roomie returned and informed me that we were taking a trip. After she finished changing, transferring her crap from her backpack to another bag and doing whatever else she just HAD to do right then (sometimes I hate her), Alex asked me if I was "ready to go".

Tangent: I hate it when she freaking asks me that. It's like wait, hold on, I need to make sure I got everything...I mean, what do I need with me? I could totally survive in the wilderness (and not because I am so fat that I don't need to eat every day like Alex says), but because I am one with nature. Seriously. It's because I practice Buddhism. Me and the Dahli go WAY back. Plus, I mean, I try to bring stuff with me whenever we go somewhere, but I have to keep it in my beard since I don't have any pockets. Every time I get something cool that I NEED, Alex takes it out and throws it back on the ground. Pisses me off. You never know when I will need that sticker or leaf or seed. Okay, I'll continue with the story at hand.

So I was already waiting by the door and we went out the door and got in the Cougar. We took a short drive to Jameson's house...it was only a few blocks away. I, of course, hung my head out the window to check everything out. This was my first trip to this part of town and I found out that Jameson had a roommate as well. Zeke the cat. I'd smelled his scent before and wasn't surprised to find that his looks matched what I'd previously concluded. He was gray sulky character with crazy eyes and bad manners. I knew trouble when I saw it. I figured it was best to avoid him and went about my business of meeting the furniture. I met Alex's mom's cats when I was younger, but never without a chaperon. Felines are not my cup of tea.

SO while I was busy getting familiar with the layout of the house, Jameson and Alex started smoking this funny smelling stuff. I knew better than to further investigate. Once, one of Brandon's roommates (not his human), blew the same type of smoke in my face. After a brief sneezing fit, I was struck with a mighty powerful thirst.

I tried to tell Brandon to get me some water, but when I tried to talk to him, no sound came out! I was really confused then. I mean, my mouth was opening and closing like a goldfish and NOTHING was coming out! God, I wish I had been under water. Would have helped my thirst. Brandon picked up on it though and filled up a huge plastic bowl with water. I drank all of it and immediately passed the F out. Anyways, point is I'd had some experience this weird stuff before. Brandon called it "getting high". I call it getting parched. And yeah, I was still rockin' the brown spot.

While Alex and Jameson were talking about Jack in the Box (I'm not sure who he is, but if I was stuck in a box, I'm pretty sure I could get out..apparently he has been in there for awhile though) and laughing hysterically (wish they wouldn't have been able to talk...) at nothing, I was further investigating the house, never looking directly at the cat. I prefer the "head in the sand" approach to undesirables. If you can't see them, they can't see you, right? I am so freaking smart sometimes, I even amaze myself.

In no time, Alex decided it was time for a nap. I was done anyways (it was getting harder to ignore the crouching Zeke following me around) so we hopped in the Cougar and took off. The car ride home was fairly uneventful. I got hand my head out the window like normal and assess the neighborhood. It wasn't until we turned in the parking lot to the condo that things began to go awry.

Now, I will say Alex had been trying to indicate our arrival and accompanying end to our car journeys by utilizing the fear method. When we were getting close to our destination, she liked to roll my window up a little to frighten me into putting my head back in the car. Soon, I figured out her tricks and realized she was just kidding. All I got from that was I better soak up all the wind in my face I could. Besides, it's hard to look sexier than a Martini with her beard whipping in the wind. Seriously. I've been compared to a blond in a convertible and between you and me, I'm pretty sure that blond knows who is hotter. Whose got no thumbs and is good looking? Me.

Have you ever seen those don't do drugs commercials on MTV? You know the ones that talk about how your reaction time slows down? Well, I used to think the writers of those were just amateurs, but lemme tell ya, they know their stuff. Even though no one blew any smoke in my face, I guess I still managed to breath some in. Maybe the cat did it. Not sure how, but I wouldn't put it past Zeke. I told you he was weird.

Anyways, when Alex began to "hint" that we were almost there, I didn't realize it as fast as I normally would. Plus, I was under the impression she was just kidding. Added to that was the fact that Alex just kept rolling it on up...until my head wouldn't come back in the car.

Now, I don't think either of us will ever know if what she did was intentional to make me better behaved or if she was just careless. I do know that she did not react the correct way. I mean, I am her roommate. We tell each other secrets...go on walks together...she picks up my poop...I allow her to live... Never will I forget what she did next. She started to laugh!!!

Man, I wasn't pissed before, but that made me angry. Apparently the dumbass couldn't find the right button either. She would roll it down a little, but then roll it up some more. I didn't cry because I'm a baller, but if Mocha would have been in there, you would have thought an ambulance was coming. Anyways, by the time everything got figured out, we got out of the car and Alex quit her giggling, then it was nearly dinner time. So I decided to be the bigger person (figuratively of course) and not be angry. I mean, it's not really her fault she's an idiot.

Or that's the conclusion my therapist and I came to at least. Until next time, friends, stay cool.


Monday, November 3, 2008

Beardless and Brown

*Indicates that you should see definitions below. I don't have time to put all kinds of random explanations in this thing. Deal with it.

I don't know if many of you follow dog grooming so I'll explain myself a little bit with a nice anecdote I came up with while I was using the vines (see previous post "The Day I Ate a Condom"). It's an oldie but a goodie. My mom told it to me. Okay, get excited people! I'm gonna blog.

One day, a long time ago, some of the humans were being socialized* together. After realizing that knitting is bored and chess caused physical violence (I told it was a long time ago), these humans decided to name groups of animals. Of course they started with the best group: canines. Thus came forth the variety of dog breeds.

Now, there is some other version of this like, all the dogs were building a tower trying to reach Heaven so God said we would all be different breeds, but I like this one better. The humans try to pass it off as some explanation of why they have different languages. I don't have the time to argue for historical accuracy so whatever. We're going with the first one.

Sometimes I think it is a great system. If Alex tells me that one of her companions has a pittbull, then I know what to expect (I'm going to be the smartest and best looking one there is the obvious conclusion. Other times, I hate that I'm supposed to be stereotyped as a certain kind of dog. As if the humans who declared "breeds" could actually put me in a class with other dogs! I know -I'm as full of contempt, disdain and Greenies as you are. Well, if you have good taste that is.

The type of dog I am is a miniature schnauzer. I believe I've already discussed this some. However, I have not mentioned that I have one characteristic that differentiates me from other four legged creatures (just for the purposes of this blog, pretend you don't know that I reek of awesome). Wait for it....

I DON'T SHED!

Oh yeah, baby. So all of you posers who say you are allergic to all dogs, you're not allergic to me. So please, feel free to thank your lucky stars. However, this does mean that my hair just keeps growing. Some people, not mentioning any names (roomie), suck at making sure that I am groomed* in a timely fashion (I live with her) and the long hair makes it where I can't see (Alex, if you can't see my eyes, then I can't see you. Jesus.).

Okay, I think you have been prepped enough. Let us commence with The Haircut Incident.

Whenever we were in college, Alex would have to go take a lot of tests around the end of every semester. She would be gone for a long time because she had to study (so she said) and then she would go out after she took her last tests because she had to relieve stress. I didn't mind the second part of the equation so much. Whenever she drinks then she can't feel how hard I accidentally (mwahahaha <-- evil laugh) bite her when we are playing.

For some reason (probably cause she's kind of dumb), Alex thought that a haircut appointment at 7:30 a.m. the day after her last final (the following drinking binge) would work out great. I don't know why I'm the only one who ever can see these things happen. Seriously. I lick my butt and I'm the smartest in this household? Come on.

Anyways, I was up and was ready to take care of business (one good thing about shitting in public; I never went anywhere again with out pooping beforehand). Alex did not wake up so easily unfortunately. Whenever she finally did get in motion, it seemed like she was having trouble walking. I was also glad that it was getting to where I couldn't see because, well, let's just say my roomie was not at her best looking that fine day. Nor at good looking, okay looking or anything that sounds like she was pretty. At all. In fact, she kinda looked like this.

NOTE: PHOTO HAS BEEN DISCOVERED BY ALEX AND THUS, REMOVED. SORRY.
But worse. And no smile (which might have made it better actually).

Tangent: Being the health nut I am, I like to run around alot in the great outdoors. By doing so, the stupid froo-froo haircut that is specific to schnauzers gets spotted with seeds, leaves, etc. They don't bother me so much, but my roomie hates vaccuuming (and that thing scares the living crap out of me so I hide whenever its time to clean the carpets) so she always tries to pick them out. It takes forever because of my sexy, silky smooth fur (better than mink, baby). This is crucial information.

Okay, so Alex can't walk, I can't see, but somehow we make it to the groomers. When we walk in, they get excited to see because, damn, I'm me and Alex hands off my leash to the clerk. As I'm shaking my shit out of the room, I overhear the guy at the front (also bearded so I think we connected a spiritual level) ask if I want my haircut in typical schnauzer fashion. I hear my roomie say no and start giving instructions. I wasn't too worried though. I mean, you can't really mess this up, if you know what I'm saying. ;)

So I wait awhile and they give me treats and I don't get too suspicious whenever the groomer spent extra time on me because I love hanging out with me. Eventually it is 4:30 and time for pickup. Alex arrives.

I hear her and get happy because I know Brandon is with her and he LOVES me. I mean, they stayed together way longer than they would have if I hadn't been around. He would have tossed her aside in no time, but my charm kept him coming back. Alex disagrees, but whatever. I say just let me have it. I mean, listen to what she had done to me.

Anyways, the clerk gets me and puts my leash on and I run out, expecting to hear compliments all around about how good I look and how much I was missed. Instead, I hear Alex, my own roommate, say, "That's not my dog."

The clerk checks again and I'm getting pissed. This is what I wagged my nub for? You have got to be kidding me. No one had let me look at my reflection so I had no idea what anyone was talking about. I was trying to figure out why Alex had put her hand over her mouth in shock. I mean, yeah I felt a little bit more breezy, but it was probably just a little shorter than normal. Plus, my hair had been so long I hadn't been able to see before so that's probably why she didn't recognized me. Little did I know that staring back at her was this:

Yes, you really just saw that. Did I mention that it was December?! Yeah. She had told the guy to "cut it all off". What she didn't realize was that it was not clear that she only meant the skirt. So now I was bald with a chilly ass all because somebody still wasn't sober the next morning. Alex's dad told me I looked homeless. Others said they'd never seen a white miniature Pinscher! It was horrible. Alex laughed the whole way home and then made me wear a damn bow on Christmas Eve!


You are probably wondering what the brown spot is on my forehead. In case I hadn't already had enough drama in my recent life, Alex decided to spice things up a little more. And she is totally to blame. I mean, I was just hanging out. It wasn't like I shaved HER head or anything.

About two weeks (and one guy) later, the second incident occurred. Alex wanted to dye her hair. While she was doing this, I kept a close watch for a chance at payback (and I needed her body heat -I was freezing all the time now). Alex was putting the dye in her hair in the bathroom and I thought it would be a good-no, scratch that-a great idea to stand in between her legs. She kept getting annoyed with me and her lack of movement which she deemed my fault (I know, right? I'm the only one who takes responsibility for their actions. I mean, I didn't tell the cashier that she had pooped in PetCo).

Anyways, I was just hanging out, like I said, and trying to stay warm when she put some of the dye on my head! Guess she thought if I had spots people wouldn't think I was a Pinscher. So I was now bald and had a brown stain on my head AND had to take a bath! I have never entered a bathroom without being forced to again.

This did not dispell the comments on the wrong dog breed. Nope, people just kept telling me I had dirt on my head. Some tried to get it off. Her new boyfriend told everyone about how we matched. One person called PETA. I started to go with the agent, but how would I have gotten my revenge? Justice is what I wanted. And justice is what I got. Ask Alex about the time the bird attacked her. She'll tell you what's up.
I even had to start seeing a therapist because of my tantrums. They would happen whenever I say any dog with more hair than me (so basically when I saw any dog), I wanted to fight them. If Alex hadn't broken it up, I totally could have taken this wolf. It's about the size of the fight in the dog, you know?

Anyways, turns out I had daddy issues or something. Wish I could go into my therapy sessions but it's time for Beneful. Until next time...

Appendix
Being socialized: whenever you are forced to hang out with inferior creatures of your species. Ex. Alex thinks she needs to make sure I'm being socialized by saying, "Be a sweet puppy" whenever some idiot continues to sniff my ass long after you could call it a greeting and she doesn't want me to growl.
Groomed/grooming: when your human drops you off for a trim and you have listen to all these other mutts whine and moan about getting their haircut and then you get happy when the groomer says, "We've got a bleeder!" because you know that some idiot didn't stand still. Pussies.