There are no bad owners, only bad dogs



Yes, it's a two-entry day here. And this one might even be three-dimensional. But probably not.

It's funny how many emotional states affect one's appetite: falling in love, falling out of love, being dumped, being depressed... These things are all linked directly to my stomach. So I'm not sure right now if I'm depressed or if the food in this country is just so fucking awful that I only want to eat just enough of it to fill the empty hole until it stops hurting. Maybe a little of both.

I mean, the cheese is fantastic. I do the Cheese Roll Call everytime I go to the store. And it's quite possible that there are excellent restaurants that I just can't afford to enter. Like this place . Of course, the chef is French, but I don't really care because the meal I would want from this restaurant would cost 95 per person, plus 17 for the cheese plate. That's about $200, just for me. So French, Smench, I ain't eating there unless I find someone's wallet.

What I can afford to eat is, essentially, crap. So I'm never hungry anymore. Maybe I won't be quite so bootylicious when I go home.

My pimp has responded to my telling her that I'm miserable over here by telling me that she wants me to come home early and will start working on it. It's not a slam-dunk certainty because, just as the removal of the ruby slippers, these things must be done delicately. So, we'll see.

Lately I've been missing my dogs a lot. They are so weird, as all good dogs are. Buster has been neutered, but he still has an eye for the ladies. He likes to get Katy in a humping position, then grip her around the waist really tight, and go to town. She stands there and looks bored. Hump hump hump. Yawn. Then, when his lipstick comes out, she springs into action, turns around, and licks it. Always with an air of great curiosity, like she's thinking "What the hell IS that thing?" Then he humps air for a while.

He had a crush on a neighbor down the street for a while. The kind of crush where he tried to shove his nose in her crotch every time he saw her. Once when we were chatting with her, Buster went up to her, stood up on his back legs, lifting her t-shirt up as he did it, and stood there with his paws on her shoulders, just grinning at her. With his lipstick hanging out. It was embarrassing for all of the humans. I miss my horny big boy. And Buster, too.

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