So here's what happened: the dog got a bunch of brownies
from a pan that he pulled off the stove. Brownies are EXTREMELY bad for
a dog, it's pretty much the worst kind of chocolate that can get in a
doggie's belly. So, we got him in the car, some other stuff happened,
and he yakked like a friggin CHAMP. I mean, dude, I cannot even begin
to describe how horrible it was. First off, it was mostly liquid, but
with just enough chunky business to make matters worse. Here are the
bonuses: a large portion of the liquid, I mean, what didn't puddle in
the seats and instantly start to soak in, ran down through the holes
that the seat belts come up from, and started to spread out underneath
the back seat, all the way back to the hatchback-part. In order to
clean it I had to pull out the seats, all the material under them, all
the way down to the damn body of the car. Luckily it all smelled like
rotting chocolate liquor.
There came a point in the cleaning process where I really
had to stop, back up, and wonder if it wasn't worth on some level to
just buy a new car.
And of course I'd have to set the one I had on fire.
That's really the only proper way to dispose of anything. Set it on
fire and throw it out the window.
* * * *
There are very few shows that I regularly watch on
television. And since I'm writing this on Tuesday night, I am doing so
while watching first House, and then nip/tuck. I enjoy both of these
shows immensely for the most part, but tonight it is KILLING ME that
they won't hurry the shit up so I can get back to playing Conan. DUDE
have you played this game on the 360? It's so friggin good. I really
enjoy a super-realistic (and by "super" I mean like SUPER, like bigger
and better than "not super") spray of blood fountaining across the
screen from the stump where the arm of one of my enemies used to be.
Beheaded body crumpling to the ground, and the neck-hole continuing to
pump out liters of blood? EXCELLENT. Also: boobs. THAT is what Conan is
all about. It provides me with happiness. What is happiness for that
zac, you may ask? To crush your enemies, to see them driven before you,
and to hear the lamentations of their women. THAT is happiness.
