The Devil, Man's Best Friend & a Sex Tape

In light of the fact that Mikey bit Penelope over the weekend and it hadn’t occurred to me to give him his much needed rabies' shot until after the fact, I decided that yesterday was a good day to go ahead and get it over with. My brain has been running around my skull lately like a headless chicken because now that I’m not working my mom calls me every 60 minutes for two things and two things only: to ask when I’m going to find a job and then promptly request I run an errand for her.

Now guys, please explain how I’m going to join the ranks of the employed when I spend all day bouncing like a pinball around Miami picking up groceries and doing dry cleaning? Exactly.

At any rate, yesterday Mikey and I piled into my car and I played happy songs by Justin Bieber and Taylor Swift to trick him into thinking we were going to Disneyland instead of a place where they would stick him a few times and possibly probe his bunhole to check for worms.

When we got there, it suddenly dawned on me that I was starrrrrrving. Coincidentally, my friend Migz was about to have lunch and I asked him to please send me a picture of it so that I could at least marvel at the beauty of chicken breasts and white rice and further torture myself with something I wouldn’t be having for a while (seems like lately I’ve been doing a lot of that, case in point: celibacy).

While Migz sent me this beautiful work of art:

Mikey was sitting next to me being such a good boy. I mean seriously, guys. Not a peep from him! Only until the man next to me screamed “What the fuck?!” did I realize that my dog wasn’t suddenly becoming the world’s best behaved dog but instead stayed true to form.

Wonderful.

I spent the next three minutes on my knees trying to look dignified while simultaneously cleaning this stranger’s shoe with plastic bags and paper towels. Out of all the low points in my life this definitely rings close to numero uno.

The worse part of all this? After I resumed a standing position the man had the nerve to laugh and say my dog was “cute” while proceeding to ask for my number.

What is wrong with people?

I told him I had a boyfriend and he was all “Yeah, right.” I don’t know if this means I’m too ugly for one or what (but I wasn't offended).

One hour later Mikey and I were sitting in the hallway waiting for him to get pricked a few times and become a proper dog of Miami-Dade County. Here’s a picture of how happy he was:

On another note, I rescued a Husky a few weeks back and have had no luck finding him a home.

He is The Devil of dogs. If Dustin lived here this would be his perfect companion. In the meantime I will fight hard to find Maximus a home and myself a job all the while chasing famosity and building a robot of myself that can run errands for my mother and answer her calls every hour on the hour with the words: Yes ma’am?

p.s. OFFICIAL NEWS: I leave for Buenos Aires on tomorrow. I’m taking my laptop and there's a few posts brewing in my brain that will make a lot of people happy.

p.p.s. The URL of this humble blog has been officially changed to http://www.whenredmeansgo.com/. Seriously? All I need is a sex tape and I’m on my way to riding the famosity train. Aren’t I lucky that a certain devil I know has agreed to make one for me and let me play it here…? This is what happens when you befriend evil sorts of people, they won't help you when you need an oil change but will gladly make a sex tape for you in the name of blog whoring.

Now that that's settled, I need to ask you the following question. Do you even want a sex tape? Or is the idea of it better when it’s not carried out? I know this has been the running joke of this blog since forever but now that it could actually happen I'm not sure if it's appropriate or not. If the answer is yes, I can guarantee that it will be classy (because I care).

Also, if you think this is a cop out it most certainly is not! I will make a sex tape of my own for you guys as well in due time. Even if it’s with paper dolls because my parents would probably scalp me alive if I make a real one. I promise.

p.p.p.s. It took me forever to write this post. Mostly because it's raining so hard it sounds like clapping and there's a nearby construction company blowing things up while making the ground shake and terrifying my dogs into thinking the apocalypse is coming and all I truly want is a bubble bath and bottle of Moet (none of these things are conducive to good writing).

Also because when I asked the only person who answers my texts during work hours what I should do he replied with the following:

Exactly.