February 7, 2011

dumpster girl and the horny dog (11/8/10)

dear diary,

i wonder if the mail will come an hour earlier now. wouldn't that be a buttfucking something of a topic to McRave about. whoohoo. "why yes my dear whore, it would," i just wrote to myself. yawn. the old grump is in there humping my pillow i can hear the bed squeakin. fuck. that is so dumb. today is monday, sometimes i have to remind myself and that is what i am doing now. nothing to do today but answer the phone and get the video in my grimy possession and get the smaller beast to his appointment, and i wouldn't mind collecting all the dog toys and washing them in the bucket. its time to do that again. somebody asked about "dumpster diving" cuz i made that comment about stealing the sweeper from my neighbors trash. i no longer have the title "dumpster girl," but i didn't get that title for diving in the trash PER SAY- just HANGIN OUT WITH THE TRASH and yeah, i ain't "to good" to pull a sweeper out the trash and clean it up and use it. it'll prolly work longer than the one i paid for. so the dogs are sure sleepin in today, would you expect any less? there ain't been so much as a peep one made from either of them today, cept the bed squeakin, but he coulda been rollin his fat ass over a few times in a row. i mite try and snuggle the old fart again, but he'll just take it the WRONG WAY and assume, well what ALL HORNY DOGS ASSUME- GAWD. i love this horny dog tho. he don't just hump anybody. just me and becky.