Damn, those pesky man nipples.

Yesterday was that sort of day. The weather was warm, but not too warm. Kaly was at the lake with a few friends.

Leslie and I were home alone, left to our own devices (cue the porn music) which included: waking up late, eating healthy cereal, working in the yard and of course washing the dogs. All of which is strong evidence that we’re lapsing getting sucked into middle age.

Washing the dogs is (of course) MY JOB. I’m not quite sure why or how I got chosen for this “bonding” experience.

So I’m in the shower (yes the shower) with Holy. I’ve lathered her up and I’m holding onto her, upside down, as I’m trying to rinse her off.

A bit of backstory…
Holy, (also known as: Holestein, Hubba, Ho!, Bodeenah, Hubb-D and Butch) is a loyal yet stupid dog. She’s sweet in a sort of mentally deficient way.

She is the bastard offspring of a previous pet of ours for whom we didn’t think it necessary to have spayed, and some ratty-assed, chow-mix stray hound who immediately after shooting his wad saw me and then saw Jesus. Eh, I was too late.

A few months later we had a herd of puppies, all brown and white and cuddly except for the odd, black and white retard– Holestein.

Of course Kaly bonded with yon Hubbuh (also known as HeeBuh, HoBeast, Hubbahubbah and Veronica).

If it were not for Kaly pitching an all out hissie-fit way back when when it came to ridding ourselves of that hunk of protein, I’d have one less dog to bathe, one less mouth to feed.

but anyway…

Yeah so I’m in the shower trying to hold onto the The Hub de Duh. She’s lathered up, slick as snot, and I’m holding her on her back while trying to direct the water spray onto her belly/underside in order to rinse the 14 ounces of Mint smelling Head and Shoulders oversquirt off the beast.

Soon as a drop of water got remotely close to her nose she freaked as if she had just snorted a line of fiery death.

I’m trying to hang on for dear life as her arms are flailing, her paws spinning and her sharp black, gothic, stilleto-like claws start whirring around.


At some [painful] point during all this her back claw manages to snag my right nipple.

I thought she’d ripped it clean off, but instead I think she just sprained it. Either way it hurt like hell.

Still does.

I’m writing this to try and help explain myself to Les and Kaly. They saw me rubbing my nipple tonight, and… well… it just didn’t look right.

I swear it was the dog!

Holycrap! Where to start?

It’s been a long while since my last real post and all sorts of stuff have happened…

For one, the project that took most of January and February is now complete. It was/is a book. A seventy-something page book, and I swear each page seemed to take eleventy-two hours. I could’ve drawn each page, set the type with a quill and my own blood–serifs included, and the thing would not have taken longer to produce. But now it’s done, “put to bed” so to speak, and it looks gooohooohooood. If I do say so myself.

All sorts of other stuff has happened since as well.

Let’s see…

(deep breath)

Well work is going really good although since the book project slapped a real whammy on the schedule I’ve been working like a freakin’ red-headed stepchild with an inferiority complex trying to catch up and make EVERYBODY happy and in doing so I sorta neglected things around the house, but not really because I pulled the shit together enough to get Kaly her driver’s license which, considering the DMV and their lack of scheduling or any adherence to a schedule I thought the whole “hey kid, congratulations, you’re now a legal driver” sentence would never get uttered from my mouth and quite frankly I thought I was going to have to bring a bed down to the DMV, but anyway she aced the driving test and now she’s cartin’ her own butt around everywhere which you would think would free up JUST LOADS of “Us” time for me and Leslie but that’s not quite the case either considering, but we have had the opportunity to go on an almost “date-like” experience with a friend in from out of town wherein I proceeded to show my man boobs when the wait staff commenced to singing me “Happy Birthday” in Italian, but hey it was my birthday and they (meaning Leslie and Theresa) wanted to embarrass me by getting them to sing HBD2 Me so I figured showing of one’s man mamms was totally appropriate especially if there was alcohol involved and speaking of my manly boobly chest I wound up having some sort of freaky chest pains back around the latter part of January and mentioned it to Leslie, of course mentioning anything like this to Les gets the whole Chinese firedrill started which in turn puts me on a treadmill in a cardiologist’s office and as you probably guessed by now I TOTALLY pussed out on the treadmill which caused the doctor great alarm to which she sent me to two other doctors before deciding to schedule me in for a heart cath next week, yes, a heart cath on ME and yes I’m only 42 years old, I turned 42 on Valentines day the same day we found out my dad has cancer and needed surgery but the eensy-beensy complication to this is he had to have a heart cath because he has been having chest pains too, well they did the cath but and in doing so they decided to put off the whole cancer surgery gig until they can thicken up his blood oh and speaking of shitty situations turning shittier, I had a large case of the flu which I’m just now, this week, getting over– the flu thing was an ugly muthuh that I simply had to work through because I couldn’t take any time off since I had the book project and resulting backlog of other work, well yes I’m sure taking the time off would’ve made things better sooner but I stammered through it like any REAL man would and speaking of stammering, Bigg got SERIOUSLY pissed off the other day because I took him to the Doggy Day Spa (they’ll turn your hound into a Village People-esque Poodle) and they chopped him up really bad and even put a bow on him, he got so pissed off that he decided to take his anger out on me as I was coming down the stairs in a fever-induced stupor, the damned dog stuck out his paw and tripped me (on the stairs), which of course sent me– arms flailing down the steps and breaking my big toe, my index toe and my bird toe on my left foot, (SON. OF. A. BITCH.) thankfully I love the dog, and I have a forgiving heart, otherwise I would’ve filleted and grilled him and thrown a Bigg Steak Party for several of my closest friends, I hear a good Merlot goes well with Grilled Terrier, so anyway other downer stuff includes: losing my cell phone, (if you can believe this…) dealing with a heavy case of the blues, insomnia, dealing with Bigg’s anaconda-sized turds since he’s decided he’s “…just not really into the whole house-training thing…“(yes, those are his words) oh and should I not mention Bigg has worms due to his steady diet of the neighbor’s cat’s crap, and also not to mention not one– but two flat tires within a week of one another.

I sound like things are really in the crapper, but there have been some bright spots over the past few weeks, granted it’s all relative, but I consider them bright all the same. We got new furniture (that’s really more of Leslie’s bright spot). They Found Jesus. We got a new tv. American Idol AND Survivor are on (Leslie’s bright spots again) I got nominated for some awards. I got a new cellphone (camera phone even). Things are going really good around the office, and at home.

I’m not complaining.

(Pardon the run on sentence. Mrs. Seney, my 10th grade English teacher would be so upset).

She’s such a cow.

Looking through Kaly’s pictures this morning…

Leslie: “…she’s not that tall, that other girl is only 4′ 10″. ”

Leslie: “This is Becky Smith.”

Leslie: “She kinda beats to her own drum.”

Leslie: “She’s very emoo-ish.”

Me: “I think you mean ‘EMO-ish’.”

Leslie: “I really don’t know what Emoo means anyway.”

Me: “Emo?”

Leslie: “um yeah… Emo.”

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