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The Cocktail Photo Contest ends July 8th.
I don’t believe I’ve ever mentioned this before, but at one point in my young life, I wanted to go into politics. Yes, I truly did, silly youth that I was. Now I laugh at the idea, but when I was a kid it seemed interesting and exciting. My own stupidity ruined any chance of that dream by the age of 16. Or not, considering some of the chumps we’ve elected into office over the years. Anyway, this is going to sound incredibly pompous, but it is also true, not just for me, but probably for some of you too. I frequently have the thought that if I were in charge of things, the world would be a better place. Or at the very least, it would be a world with less assholes and hipsters. You want to double park your Audi in a handicapped spot while you run into the market, thereby screwing not one but two people in need of a short walk to the entrance their proper space? You’re condemned to pick rocks for the next ten years, buddy, I’ll work out what to do with said rocks later.
-There would be no leggings as pants worn with a belly shirt.
-There would be no making a mess in the communal laundry room of the apartment building. No more spilling powdered detergent all over the floor and then leaving it there to get stuck in the soles of other people’s shoes.
-There would be no sampling of foods, with fingers, at the food bar at Whole Foods.
-There might not even be a Whole Foods, because even though I go there about once a week, that place annoys the fuck out of me.
-No longer would people do that weird thing where they water the sidewalk and driveway because they’re too lazy to pick up a damn broom and sweep. Driveway watering would lead to automatic tazing.
And then, I am brought back down to reality, and reminded that if I ruled the world it would quickly descend into an even more hellish and chaotic place than it is already. Aside from the fact that my political priorities, as it turns out, don’t have anything to do with politics, I would muck it all up in a very short period of time. In fact, it wouldn’t be surprising if the entire planet were to blow up within the first year of my rule. And do you know why? Because I regularly get my ass kicked by a six pound dog. So who am I kidding? I wouldn’t be able to control jack shit. Rude people would run around the planet, watering concrete for no particular reason, all while wearing bedazzled belly shirts with shiny leggings. And then they’d all go to Whole Foods.
I’ve posted about Stinky numerous times, so you are all aware she becomes more wizened by the day, bless her smelly heart. Because of this, it’s difficult to get angry with her over anything. And boy does she know it. I chalk up her disobedience to the fact that she is ancient, and therefore doesn’t hear or see very well (her nose is just fine, and the smell of food causes her to prance and spin in circles, which makes me wonder if the old lady bit is just an act). Anyway, this morning, for the second time this week, Stinko peed in the house, right after I put her leash on, dammit. I already have to pick her up the moment the door opens, because she will casually pee on the doormat, because, you know, we are outside after all. Now I guess I need to pick her up before leashing her.
That was this morning, at six o’clock. I took her out a bit ago, and she refused to do her business. Nothing. She just wants to bask in the sun. Fifteen minutes of trying everything short of wringing the pee out of her, I gave up and took her back in, knowing full well I’d have to take her back out again ten minutes later, because it has to be on her terms.
Fine. Whatever. You win Stinky. I would have made a terrible world leader anyway.