At least I'll get unemployment.

Things I've said in front of the new HR Rep at work before I knew she was HR and I totally thought she worked in accounting:

1. "Fuck"

2. "What the fuck?"

3. "You piece of shit avatars!  I hate you virtual fucks!"

4. "Why the hell is there so much talking!?"

5. Susan to Jamie: "I don't want to talk to you anymore." Jamie to Susan: "And I don't want to hear you talking to me anymore."

6. Susan to the office: "What would be good for a Halloween lunch?" Jamie to Susan: "Not coming to work."

7. "I CAN'T WORK LIKE THIS ANYMORE!!"

8. "Gaaaaaaaaaaaaay...1st!"  (In imitation of a Facebook comment)

9.  "What the fuck, dude?"

10. "Who does this hoe think she is?!"

11. "Yer breakin' my balls, dude."

12. "Eff this shit, yo! Let's drink!"

And lucky number 13...

"Just don't name it 'Furry Patrol.'"

BURDS!

I was planning on writing all about our experience at Fleet Week in San Francisco this past weekend.  How we took the Ferry (which is really just a floating day care that plays fast and loose with arrival times), how we walked along the Piers (which oddly enough are not numbered in sequential order), how the military confiscated pepper spray from my purse before allowing me to partake in their barbeque event...But instead, you'll be hearing from Camper again.  Why? Because several readers requested a new post from him and because his life just seems way more interesting than mine right now.

Hay peepholes.  How youz?  I fine.  I poop beter now cuz momz makes us fud evry nite and it tayst likes kandy and I don’t has to eets dry stuff no mores.  Dah only problems iz she takes way too long maken it and I done like waitin.  So I has to keep tellin her “Hurriez up!  I iz waitin!”  Den she always put Sierra fud down first and makin me wait sum more.  Das krap.  So to gets back at her, sumtimes I liks her face in dah middles of dah nite and wakes her up.  Hehehe, she done like it. 

Saturday we wents to dad’s work.  Dey gots lots uh weird birds waddling arownd and I ran all overs makin dose birds runaway even tho moms was hooked to me.  She ran too.

Yesterdays hoomans waz gone all day longs.  And we waz so bored.  We finally goes to doggie park after fud.  But evry time I runs up to a dog to says hi, der hoomans freek out and takes ‘em home.  Whatevers, I just tryin to say hi and chew on ‘em to see whats dey tayste like.

Today dad stayed wit us all dayz.  We went to doggie parks 2 timez.  At da sekon park, der waz a hooman pointen at sum birds on dah oder side of dah fence and so I looks and saw dem.  Dey waz just like dah onez at dads work so I know I kan chase dem and makem runs evrwhers.  So I jumps over dah fence and starts chasin em, but den dad jumps over dah fence and starts chasin too.  I done kno he like chasin too, and he also likes yellin loud.  We runz all overs and all dah way downs to dah water.  But den after runnin fur a wilz, he takes me back to dah park.

Den after dat we come home and hoomans talkin bout sumthin called groomen toomarowz.  I done kno what it iz, but dads taken us wen he get home.  I bet it iz gonna be fun wit lots uh birds and skwerls to run afters.  I tell you laterz what happens at deh groomen.

Camper

Things I've Learned Since Dan's Been Gone

Dan is gone to Kentucky for two weeks and we're currently at the half-way mark of his absence.  At this time it's unsure if I'll manage to survive the remaining half.  But if I do, I'm promised a t-shirt that reads "I ♥ KY."  Here's what I've learned in the week so far:

1. Street sweeping is a sham.  It says you can't park on our street from 3 am - 6 am on Tuesday and Thursday mornings.  I walked the dogs from 6:15 - 6:25 am on Tuesday morning and watched the street sweeper sweep the adjacent street, and approach the intersection to our street, only to turn the other way leaving piles of dirt, leaves and garbage and up and down the empty street.  Jackass.  I coulda parked there you know!

2.  These dogs are trying to kill me.  How do I know this?  Because of their poop.

  2a. Sierra has decided the park accross the street from our apartment is her park.  She doesn't understand why stranger dogs would be walking in her park.  Ever.  So when they do, she not-so-politely instructs them to get the f*ck out while pulling my arm out of the socket.  Sometimes she waits until I'm bent over, picking up her poo, then lunges for the other dog.  This results in poo flying in multiple directions.

  2b. Camper has explosive diarrhea.  Lets move on...

3. I much prefer walking/taking the train to driving.  You never have to parallel park a train.  Though parallel parking Dan's truck feels like I'm trying to parallel park a train.  On the upside, I'm sure I've given people in the neighborhood plenty of parking enduced entertainment.

4. Was I supposed to eat this week?  Dammit.

5. We are EXTREMELY lucky to have such wonderful neighbors and friends.  So far this week Teresa has walked the dogs each afternoon, cleaned up explosive diarrhea, rescued my palm tree from certain disaster, and fed Camper his special tummy diet.  After all that, she deserves a day at the spa.  I'll probably just give her some baked goods.

"What plant?" Photo courtesy of Teresa Goodwin.

6.  I don't like Dan being gone.