Dirty Windows

sorry-about-the-window-but-we-dont-make-you-pee-in-the-rain1

But you don’t pee outside in the rain.

(I’m the alphabitch, get over it. –C)

6 Comments

Filed under March 2009

6 responses to “Dirty Windows

  1. Ah, a glass door/window covered in pupkus!

    And in our house, the TV, the sofa, the coffee table, the kitchen cabinets, my shirt …

    Yes, there have been times I’ve arrived at work to then note basset hound slime down my shirt.

  2. Stupid dogs!
    I do, so they can.
    I opened the door yesterday when it was raining and they hit the edge of the porch and did a U turn. I slammed the door in their face.
    Muriel!!!!

  3. “Amante”
    Reminds me of a time spent one mid April in a little typical Mexican country hotel (garden in the middle, walk around balcony, frescos, etc) in Oaxaca w/ a charming chicana.
    Life’s been good to me so far.

  4. wvfurandroot

    Sagacious, HMOkeefe has a good “got drunk in Oaxaca story” that he should tell. If there was a charming chicana, he left that part out.

    Anyway, for all my bitchin’ and moanin’, life has been good and is still sweet. Speaking of which, I have lots of sweet memories of Mexico. One involves a bunch of kids, an institutional-sized can of chocolate pudding, and a white sundress. And another involves [Connie self censors].

    Janis, the puppies keep me from straying too far from what Buzzardbilly calls front porch crazy. I once fell in love with a basset puppy named Earl. I tried to smuggle him out of the Vet’s office, but his peeps were a little too vigilant. I carry on about the chaos of living with 3 dogs, but don’t have any intention of de-dogging. I’d get some more, but I kind of believe in “if you can’t feed ’em, don’t breed ’em.” I was genetically predestined to be one of the idle rich. Something went terribly wrong. Back to work. (sigh)

  5. Connie,

    “Idle rich” — yeah, we were separated at birth. I have Dom Perignon taste on a Milwaukee’s Best budget.

    I have 9 years till retirement. On May 7, 2018, the door won’t hit me in the ass. If I have to work post-retirement, it’ll be a short-lived stint as a Wal-mart greeter: “Welcome to Wal-mart. Here’s your cart. Now fuck off.”

  6. wvfurandroot

    I ain’t working after retirement. Given the current state of my “portfolio” (bwahahahaha), I expect to be a burden to society. I’m holding firmly to the belief that if one is colorful and eccentric enough, folks will cheerfully throw cash at me. (Hey! I read The Secret! It could happen.)

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