Welcome to my Life

Today was Moving Day Part I.  That means the kids and I moved a lot of boxes and light furniture into the new house.  As the day wore on, the kids dropped out one by one until it was just me and Scooter.  Scooter and I are pretty tight because I can be a teenager toowhen I want to.  Oh and I understand juvenile humor.

We were laughing and carrying on when I noticed a fly in the truck.

Scooter do you ever wonder if flies get lost?

Huh?

I mean this fly was just minding his own business when he flew into the window. For all we know he was on his way to get take out for dinner and took a short cut through the truck.  When all of a sudden we shut the doors, trapping him inside and drive 6 miles down the road, 6 miles away from where he started.  He just flew over 6 miles without physically flying further than inside the truck.  Now he’s lost, and his family is at home waiting for dinner not knowing that he is half way across town, which to them could be half way around the world.  Of course when his family realizes he’s not coming home, they will report him missing, and when they can’t find him, his wife will have to turn to a life of prostituion just to support her family because he didn’t have sufficient life insurance and without a body they can’t really prove he died so the life insurance company is refusing to pay out the benefits.

Of course that had Scooter bent over in fits of laughter.

Driving home we see a rather large dead bird on the side of the road.

Look Scooter, it looks like Heny didn’t make it home last night.

Huh?

Look, we all know that Henry is a really bad drunk, sloppy and all.  And he’s been warned about flying after he’s been drinking.  He’s gotten 2 FWI’s and one more would mean he was grounded for life.  Looks like he went on another bender last night and well, it looks like he took a header and plow, face first.  Of course that makes it hard to identify the body, but he smelled like Henry’s brand of whisky so I’m sure someone will be along to claim the body.  Or not. He was a mean drunk at times.

So, tell me a story about my dog Lady.  (3 years ago Lady went on a grand walk about)

Well, you konw when she ran away from the groomers a few years ago?

Yeah,

We she told my why she did that.  Want to hear the story?  It’s quite facinating.

Sure.

As you know Mimi had taken the dogs to the groomers that day. Usually Lady loves a day at the spa. You know getting a mani/pedi and being pampered and spoiled coming home all pretty and smelling good.  But this time well, she didn’t want a hair cut. (fade to Lady’s memories of that day)  While I love and oh god do I need a mani/pedi I do not want my hair cut. I’m trying to grow it out because Harley down the street likes longer hair.  I know if I had a long luxurious shiny coat he would totally notice me.  But oh now, my human’s just don’t get it.  They insist on cutting my hair and keeping it short.  Don’t they know that the buzz look just makes me look like a dyke and well, that is so counterproductive to my plot to snag get Harley up the street to notice me and convince him to be my love slave, put him under my spell, have him fall madly in love with me, Iave a conversations with him. When I saw my chance I made a run for it.  Well, that plan totally backfired.  I didn’t think it through very well.  I mean, I got as far as run away. After that I was pretty much winging it.  So, I started running towards home thinking I’d make it home before dark. Yeah, that didn’t work out so well.  By the time I was found and got back home, three weeks had gone by, my hair and nails were a mess, I was skin and bones and Harley was involved with that french bitch down the street, Fifi.

So, dear readers, answer me this.  How is it that I can spin crazy nonsensical tales like those above, but can not for the life of me come up with a meaningful blog post to save my life?

8 Responses to “Come and listen to a story.. or two or three.”