26 posts tagged “crazy”
You guys, I have two dogs in the body of one very small one. I have one of the smartest, sweetest creatures in the world and then I also have a total fucking asshole jerk dog.
Wagandstuff, because he kind of is a little bit genius, is a freakin' handful. He knows how to make me get up and go find his donut, which he has cleverly and quite purposefully batted underneath the dresser in the living room. He will sit in front of the dresser and whine this loud dramatic whine that should really only be reserved for when one is being raped anally by some ass-raping ghost. It's an insane noise that no one can ever really believe. "Your dog's whine is hilarious." Yeah, to you, you heartless creep. For his mom, well honestly, it congers up daymares of my sweet puppy being held off the side of a building by some evil Supervillain or getting his tail trapped in a car door. Either way, I break down with in seconds and I get up and I move freakin' furniture around my living space to accommodate the plastic donut chasing pleasure of a seven pound dog.
I'm pretty weak for him, and you know he's a pain for other people at times and that he's not particularly friendly and that if he could speak English he would only be able to say four words, and he'd say them all the time: "Pay", "Attenion", "To", and "Me". Basically, he's Molly McAleer the Dog.
But ya know, much like me (me me me me me), when he's good, he's pretty fucking good, ya know? He's a good boy. He's crazy about me, and hopefully not just because I feed him and let him use my body to keep warm at night.
Taking on a dog, with the exception of having children, is probably the greatest responsibility out there. They are children in a sense. Fur babies. They require constant attention and care. Their mentality is to live for those around them and so living for them back is the absolute least you can do. When you combine that with the fact that I pretty much melt inside every single time I see the corners of his wrinkly little mouth, it makes sense that I happily sport a scar on my left hand from the wrestling match we had over the last piece of pizza a couple weeks ago (I lost.)
This is the ugliest picture of me ever taken.
I pull it out and post it on the internet about once a year to show everyone that this is what an asshole I am.
I am drunk out of my mind, clutching a plastic monkey, wearing a homemade tie-die shirt, drinking a can of Busch light and smoking a fag. Oh and I have roots, too.
Basically, I just need people to look at this picture. I need them to see it. I don’t know why. It’s an impulse I have. I want to make sure you all know how positively ugly I can be.
"Are you? Are YOU? You don't not fucking fuck him. You don't fucking up and fuck to fucking walk the fuck away. Fuck that."
-A man on his cellphone outside my window. I hope he was on a cellphone. There is a 50/50 chance he wasn't. Things get dodgy around here.
Alexis doesn't get mean often, but when she does it's like that crazy sorority girl gone loose in Cabo at some all-inclusive resort where she takes a liking to the taste of Bahama Mamas and a bartender named Stephan who would run away with her if only his wife was dead. When Alexis assumes this persona it's like she's all "I'll kill your fucking wife in a hot second if you promise to never leave me."
Ride-or-die bitch, you guys. That's what she is. Forever.
Yes.
Do I think they are researching for some sort of study they are doing for people who live with bi-polar disorder and clearly don't know about it?
Probably.
Am I hoping that they email me with a diagnosis and some sorta coupon for some samples of Xanax or the like?
Deeply.
Dear Person at Cornell Who Reads My Blog,
Here's a list of things I have to say to you:
1) I can see you on my Site Meter.
2) I can tell that you read my blog a lot and check many pages per visit.
3) You should be far too intelligent to have any interest in anything I'm saying here.
4) That being said, I know you come here to mock my stupidity, so screw you. Go get your giggles elsewhere.
Love,
Molls
P.S. Email me?
