Hi. I guess some of you might be wondering- well, except for you Nik- I saw you today while getting gas, or you Lorrie- saw you last night at Aunt G's, and also you Jodie & Jen- had lunch with you today. OK, that covers pretty much all of you, but for those others out there, and I know you're out there. I have to believe you're out there, otherwise what the hell am I doing wasting my days and nights away sitting alone in the basement on the computer?? But back to what I was saying. Some of you might be wondering if I'm alive or not, as I haven't been posting anything for a while. But alas, here I am, alive. Wounded but still breathing, barely breathing, but breathing nonetheless.
On Sunday I gave away my dog. Oh how I loved that little dog. And I could say that it was easy and for the best, but that would make me a liar, and my friends, a liar I am not. It was very difficult. There were tears. And everday when I come home from work I just feel like this house is a hollowed out empty shell of the place it used to be. Well I guess we still have one dog left. But she's kind of a lame excuse for a dog. All she does is lay around. You have to poke a stick at her to see if she's still alive or not. I poke her with a stick three times a day to make sure she's still kickin. If she flinches a little, she's OK. If not... time for the old cereal box/makeshift coffin. Depending on the size of the cereal box it could be something of a tight squeeze, so I'll have to bear this in mind when shopping for cereal from here on in. Of course, we do have those two kids we keep that run about asking for food and what not. I don't know where they came from but they do seem to be setting up shop here...
So today, I had a revelation. If Baxter needs to live on a farm, well then, maybe, just maybe, WE could live on a farm. Not a fully operational farm, mind you. I don't want to have to slaughter anything or cut anythings head off. That would kind of defeat defeat my animal loving philosophy of the farm. And it would also be a buzzkill. I mean like, okay kids, lets go kill animals today. Kids, draw your weapons. Sharpen the blades. Better put a smock over top of those new clothes. Anyways, you get the point. It would be depraved. Well, we wouldn't be moving any time soon, anyways. I'm pretty sure the bank would put a big old "rejected" sign on our loan application, as we've gotten ourselves into a big old juicy pickle here with our financeroos. I just feel better using the word financeroos. It sounds somehow less ominous than 'finances'. Actually, it works with pretty much anything when you think about it. What sounds nicer? Murder? Or Murderoo? Murder: Bad news. Murderoo: Happy Fun Time. Think about it. Anyways, about the financeroos... let's just say that we won't be moving anytime soon and just leave it that.
Anyways, hope you have a nice evening and weekend. Thank you for your readership and your well wishes during this time of sadness for me and my family. There are good days and there are bad. Dreams of the farm shall pull us through the bad.