Hello, friends! It’s WTF Wednesday! »
You guys, I was really lonely last weekend. Allen was out of town so I had no one to torment, my parents were out of town so I has no one to fight with, and I was too tired to do anything but sit around at home with the lights on and wait vigilantly for the ghosts to show up and eat me. I am happy to report that none did, although, honestly, I could have used the excitement. On Friday night I tried to latch-hook the Super Mario rug I was making, but threw it across the rom in a fit of pique when the yarn unraveled for the fifteenth hundred time.
You can see how lonely I was. So I decided to adopt a hamster. Look how smart they are. So smart they have to wear glasses. That’s the animal for me!
The first thing I did was text Allen to let him know that I was going to track down a hamster and name hear Jeanine (because that is a name I have always liked). Ten minutes later he texted back in his usual unsupportive style, advising me not to make any rash decisions because he was going to be home in two days. “Also,” Allen wrote, “everything will smell like hamster pee.” He was right. I have had many hamsters before and while I loved them all very much and cleaned their cages like it was my job I could not shake the feeling that I always smelled like a hamster cage full of urine. My brother and I got into a fight about it once, actually, when he was giving me a ride to work. “Bitch,” he said, “you smell like you’ve been fucking a hamster farm. Get a boyfriend.” We did not speak for a month after that and I had to take the bus everywhere. Recalling these fond memories made me realize that perhaps I was not ready to invite a hamster into my home just yet and would have to think long and hard before I went out and made such a commitment. Allen, probably sensing my despair, sent me another text message. “I have an idea,” he wrote, “why not just look at hamster videos on YouTube?” Allen can be so callous sometimes (this is a sign of psychopathy, by the way. I have been reading The Psychopath Test and am pretty sure Allen’s responses indicate that he is a psychopath fairly clearly), but I decided to look at animal videos anyway. Except I was doing it for a different reason. I wanted to convince myself that I could live without a companion animal at this point in my life. The first video I looked at completely convinced me. Or at least it convinced me that I do not want to mess with turtles. especially because, as a male, I am possessed of a pair of testicles, which apparently turtles have been known to bite the shit straight off. Can you even comprehend the pain of this poor dog? He just nudged a turtle away from him for whatever reason, and that evil monster decides to go straight for the nuts. I immediately felt a pit in my stomach, even though I generally wear clothes and have never had the desire or opportunity to let a turtle crawl around me while naked (I am about to fifteen comments extolling the joys of having a turtle crawl around one’s naked body, aren’t I?) I could not help but feel a certain kinship with the dog in this video and have decided that turtles are not for me. At least penguins are nice, right?
WRONG! Penguins will fuck your shit up! You think a penguin won’t come at you, bro? No, a penguin will bring it the fuck on. And he will bring it so hard that you will try to run backwards and fall and the penguin will waddle towards you as you are laying on your back, frozen in fear and covered in snow. That penguin will come right up to you and kick you straight in the crotch while maintaining unblinking eye contact. And then he will call his friend the ice turtle (may not be a real creature) and they will take turns kicking you in the crotch and biting your withered and frozen genitalia. Penguins, much like Honey Badgers, don’t give a shit. And they give even less of a shit when it’s some Russian douche trying to come at them. Why is it always the Russians, by the way? As a Russian I am concerned that whenever I see a video of an animal being all “Come at me, bro” the person coming at it is some Russian teenager/twenty-something. Get jobs, you guys! You’re making us look bad on the internet!
Dogs get in on the act, too. No longer content to just chill out, sleep and take walks, they’re demanding to be dressed up in eighties fashions and jump rope to set a world record. Sure, you could blame the lady who is having them jump around and dress up like they’re Tiffany on a coke bender, but i like to imagine her as a poor helpless person ganged up on by dogs who just want to have fun (like a young Helen hunt!); dogs that just live to jump rope to the pulsating beats and alluring vocals of Yaz and Men Without Hats. Dogs that can’t be stopped. Dogs that are “teen wolves” and “teen witches” who go to “private school” and are “pretty smart.” and one of them is in a gang called “Foxes” and “she’s out of control.” Top that!
That’s all for me this week. Send me links for next week and for god’s sakes if your name is Carol Ann, stay away from lights this Wednesday!