UPDATE: DOG GROOMING...DON'T DO IT

I am currently sitting here, devotedly typing to you all, my loving, faithful readers. All two of you. Hi, Mom.

Anyhow, I am COVERED in Dixie's(Yorkshire Terrier) fur. COVERED. I look like Sasquatch. I was just going to give her a butt trim like I did for MacGregor,(West Highland White Terrier) but well, I get carried away with the dog clippers. They needed grooming badly. They haven't been groomed since June. So, I get to cutting and trimming and all that, and the next thing I know, I'm covered, Wally is covered, my floor is covered...Dixie...STILL COVERED.

How does a miniature dog have that much FUR????? I don't get it!!! Plus, I lopsidedly cut both dog's facial fur. Both have more on the left side than the right. Rather dashing, I think. They couldn't care less. Their asses, however, are high and tight.

I cleaned out my brother's dog's ears last night. It was repulsive. Her name is Lilly. She is an English Bulldog. She had some YELLOW GRAINY GROWTHS in her ears. Wally said, "Yeast". We got out q-tips and vinegar and I went after it. Everyone was gagging. EVERYONE. My niece and nephew held her because she is built like a wombat, and I scrubbed out the yeast chunks. Lilly enjoyed it based on her leg slapping everywhere. It probably felt good. I am billing him $500.00 in veterinary fees. Because that shit right there? Was.Gross. Fascinating, but gross.

UPDATE: The liquor store did indeed have cupcake flavored vodka and it's DEEElicious. I also got some stupid tape and stuff for my stupid ankle. Not at the liquor store, but that would have been quite convenient.

I am now going to change because I look like a large Yorkie.

Jack just came in. He just got home from some mysterious mission. Conversation:

Jack: Hehe...hey..Mom...hehe...was the ummm...mailman guy...heheh..like ...honking at me?

Me: How would I know? Why?

Jack: Hehe, because I got out of my..hehe...car thingie...hehe and he was going beep beep..hehe...I just walked into the house...ehhheehee.

Me: Yeah, he probably wanted you to come get the mail or something so he wouldn't have to get out of his car. OR FURTHER VANDALIZE MY MOUNTAIN LAUREL BUSH WHICH HE TOOK IT UPON HIMSELF TO RIP TO SHREDS, THE BASTARD. I mean, a polite note saying, "Excuse me gorgeous lady, but could you trim your lovely Mountain Laurel for me, as I am having difficulty reaching the mailbox to put your multitudes of catalogs and various purchases that I would never tell your husband about?" But no. Oh, no. NOT OUR MAILMAN. He ripped huge branches off and left half of them halfway ripped off and halfway attached, he better watch his mail bearing ass, that's all I have to say.

So, yeah. Jack brought in the mail. I got my friend Mark Paulda's book. (I mean, I didn't steal his possession...he has a book of photography, and I purchased it.) I must now go look at it and marvel at the talent. Too da loo, bitches.

PS: Although the conversation would suggest otherwise, Jack is not mentally challenged in any way. He just speaks in a weird fashion. He isn't stoned, either. I've checked.