An Empty Room Can Be So Loud
I got asked the most important question of my life today: Which do you like better, Hannah Montana or High School Musical?
I just took a shower, but I did that before emptying the Poop Patrol bucket. That was dumb.
Tonight is my last night of servitude. My last night with the pesky neighbors, the lovelies (the dogs), the fishes and Sammy, the mounted head of an extra-large hoofed African mammal. I didn’t chat much with Sammy this time; I think it was because I’m used to him now. Although, sometimes, when I look up and see his glassy eyes staring down at me, I get kind of freaked out that he’ll come back to life and stick his antlers through my torso.
I’ve gotten a pretty decent tan, too. I think it’s from constantly coming outside to do Poop Patrol, un-digging holes, yelling at Liner to shut up, going to the compost (where a large rat lives; I’ve named him Henry and, if it’s a girl, Henrietta), getting the mail, collecting the millions of phonebooks that came this week and receiving packages from delivery men (and women) who are too scared to come down the driveway on account of the huge pack of dogs that bark at them. I’ve also discovered that I can get a bunch of wireless signals from the driveway, which is why I am sitting out here now typing up an entry, drinking ice water out of a Tostitos picante sauce jar that still smells like salsa. I think someone down below is having a barbeque. Sounds good. Will eventually smell good, too, but so far, I just see the smoke.
Oh man. Hook just licked my water jar. And now Liner, Dozer and Star are fighting which means Hook will want to get in on it and there will be a dog riot. I’m going to have to put Dozer and Star in the Yukon. Boone will be sad because he loves the Yukon, but I have priorities.
Ciao.
I just took a shower, but I did that before emptying the Poop Patrol bucket. That was dumb.
Tonight is my last night of servitude. My last night with the pesky neighbors, the lovelies (the dogs), the fishes and Sammy, the mounted head of an extra-large hoofed African mammal. I didn’t chat much with Sammy this time; I think it was because I’m used to him now. Although, sometimes, when I look up and see his glassy eyes staring down at me, I get kind of freaked out that he’ll come back to life and stick his antlers through my torso.
I’ve gotten a pretty decent tan, too. I think it’s from constantly coming outside to do Poop Patrol, un-digging holes, yelling at Liner to shut up, going to the compost (where a large rat lives; I’ve named him Henry and, if it’s a girl, Henrietta), getting the mail, collecting the millions of phonebooks that came this week and receiving packages from delivery men (and women) who are too scared to come down the driveway on account of the huge pack of dogs that bark at them. I’ve also discovered that I can get a bunch of wireless signals from the driveway, which is why I am sitting out here now typing up an entry, drinking ice water out of a Tostitos picante sauce jar that still smells like salsa. I think someone down below is having a barbeque. Sounds good. Will eventually smell good, too, but so far, I just see the smoke.
Oh man. Hook just licked my water jar. And now Liner, Dozer and Star are fighting which means Hook will want to get in on it and there will be a dog riot. I’m going to have to put Dozer and Star in the Yukon. Boone will be sad because he loves the Yukon, but I have priorities.
Ciao.