Finished Vroom Vrooming

"Okay, we're pretty clear on what you didn't do. How 'bout enlightening us on what you did do."

-Death Proof

Pretty fucked up day. When you find yourself on your knees wiping off the face of a small dog, you've gotta ask yourself one question: "Do I feel like I'm cleaning up a 2-year-old that just smeared food all over its face?"

5-Pound Phooey's got major issues about a person cleaning her up. To her, walking around with matted hair and a messed up personality are all about the life of one top bitch. I've told you thousands of times about her attitude issues when it comes to other animals, namely cats and squirrels. There is also the fact that 5-Pound Phooey will not allow me to clean her up, especially her face. That's just what I did today, took the time to force her to allow me to clean up a major amount of old eye gunk that turned into a small piece of charcoal near her tear ducts. Ugh, it was nasty!

So, the rest of the time, when I decided to allow 5-Pound Phooey some rest from pulling out gunk, she would pout. No little licks or playfulness. It was all about 5-Pound Phooey making it known that I should feel awful. My dog, the best at getting to me where it hurts, knows how to pull my strings like a fucking child. Only dog owners with dogs that have long hair know what I'm talking about when it comes to cleaning up their faces.

It's getting close to time for me to find myself at work and life would take a little bit of a chunk away from me. As I said before, there just won't be this easy ability to just take off for Indiana so I wonder just how romantic I will be when it comes to that drive. Now, I get weekends off but they begin slightly later than others'. 6:30pm and I'm out the door with the pedal to the metal on the interstate. Weird to wonder what I'll feel when I find my way there.

Aint that romance? You've got a guy driving just over an hour to see his girl. Well, there is that big reason in being that Sara has epilepsy so she can't take the time to get here......yet. But hey, how would you feel knowing your boy makes his way to see you whenever the opportunity arises?

Remember Richard? Well, he's that guy that looks like he's smuggling a globe underneath his sleeveless t-shirt in my gym. It's been a while since I've seen him but what a night! We got into a conversation about Motley Crue because I told him about Nikki Sixx's "Heroin Diaries" that I've been reading. Quite an addictive book even if you do find yourself asking why a guy that should know better started this addiction to heroin.

Richard starts laughing because he has history with Motley fucking Crue. Hell, he worked on one of the tours and even built the caged drum set that went out into the crowd for Tommy Lee. Damn, that's cool because I never forgot about that when witnessing it in a video. How would you feel about being turned upside down while playing the drums and thousands of people are underneath you cheering you on? Richard also adds that he never really talked to the band because, back then, they were such drug addicts that it would be pointless. From reading "Heroin Diaries," I can tell you that I'd agree. Nikki would hide in his closet because armed little people were wondering his lawn after he took too many drugs. I'm always hoping that little green people would steal my socks for fuel to explore the galaxy.

I get it, though. I'm an addict, too. Of course, my addiction is a better one, one that a lot of people don't see as being great. I work out and cannot spend more than a week without a gym to unleash my frustrations. Sara's seen me get grumpy and not feeling as sexual. How can I? I'll try to avoid the mirrors if I've not had a chance to feel my muscles tighten. Mornings are easy because I'm alway feeling so good. Nights? Only when I've lifted some poundage do I feel like sticking things inside Sara's sticky spot.

I'm just not feeling very inspired right now. I thought that Quentin Tarantino's Death Proof would help. Normally, a movie with strong female characters is like a 'wet dream' for me. There's something about girls that can talk shit about life, sex, and face down evil stuntmen all while looking good. C'mon, would this movie be possible if lardass chicks with 'shelves' for crotches had done it? Hell, they'd probably stop at a buffet and then get back in the car to battle the evil stuntman played by Kurt Russell.

I dig Quentin for writing strong female characters. I'm one of those guys that gets so mad at a girl for not taking her high heels off when chased by a serial killer. "Run, bitch, run!" can be heard in my mind. I totally loved it when the girls fought back and took turns punching the fucker out at the end. Can you tell that I could write a loooong entry about Kill Bill if given the time and feeling the flow of creativity?

Still don't know if I'm going to take off for Indiana this weekend. It's kind of major because Sunday night has the Cowboys versus the Chicago Bears. Guess who has a Bears jersey just itching to be put on. Yeah, me, fool. Sara's dad loves football and we enjoy hassling each other over things since he's a Indianapolis Colts fan. Oops, sorry. I try not to talk sports in a girly place like the blog but I just can't help myself. I'm still mad at my brother, want sex, and hate how the wind messes up my hair while I wait for 5-Pound Phooey to finish taking a dump outside. Happy twats all around.