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Thursday, August 26, 2010

Screwing The Pooch

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Today, I proudly present a nasty little gem from guest blogger Jesus Canterbury.

I answered the door. It was my friend Johnny, with a plastic Target bag in tow. He was bug eyed and frazzled, like he just saw his mom sucking off his dad. His light grey sweater was speckled with either wine or blood. He barged in, knocking me out of his way, sending me tumbling over the nearest couch.

"What the fuck, dick smooch?" was all I could muster in retaliation.

"Sorry, buddy. Shit. Fuck. I don't know what to do. I'm freaking out." His erratic behavior and speech pattern reminded me of the 2 AM crack heads on Fremont Street in Las Vegas.

"Okay guy. Slow down. Start at the beginning."

"Well...I get home from work, open the front door, and I was thinking about how I should have peed before I left. All of a sudden, that fricken dog started biting and barking and pissing and shitting and I started kicking it."

In a matter of thirty seconds, he'd gone from erratic crackhead to a sobbing, crying drunkard.

"First off, shut the fuck up," I told him.

"Sorry, sir," Johnny replied. He flopped the Target bag onto my coffee table. In it lay the bloody carcass of a miniature poodle.

"Second off, who knows about this?"

"Just you and me, man. I fucked up. Michelle's gonna kill me, or at least break up with me. It just attacked, I didn't know. I kicked it a lot. Now it's not breathing. I can't feel its heart beat neither."

"SHUT the fuck up! Now sit the fuck down, and listen to everything I am about to tell you."

He proceeded to shut the fuck up and listen.

"First, you are going to call your girlfriend and tell her you opened the front door, and the dog took off. Then, you will play it off like a runaway dog. You will be playing the part of a good, supportive boyfriend. You and Michelle will go drive around your neighborhood and those nearby. When finding nothing after a few days, you will put up some missing posters and call Animal Control.

Johnny's mouth hung open.

"In a couple months, you will come home with a little puppy. Try a shih tzu next time."

I handed Johnny my phone and told him it was time to call his girl.

I grabbed the Target bag and nonchalantly tossed it in the dumpster.
3:57 PM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm

3 Comments:

August 28, 2010 7:26 PM, Blogger christian said...

steve...its christian. i have a new #. 414.554.9594 or email me@ xtiang13@gmail.com

 
September 10, 2010 11:43 AM, Anonymous bookfraud said...

"like he just saw his mom sucking off his dad." damn, i just about spit out my coffee with that one.

but they shoulda buried the body.

 
July 29, 2011 4:20 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

hey steve man when are you going to post some new ish it's been a hot minute

 

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