  Here's a graphic image I must share because I know it will make Chad go "eeesh". There is this deposit of flour and snot on the inside of my nose, pulling at the little hairs, and absolutely 100% refuses to be expelled. It's hurty, vaguely gross, and it's been stuck in my right nostril for almost a week. Anyways, Calling the Lady about the dog today, after much deliberation, and a healthy disrespect for Herr and his freakiness, Kurt and I decided it's much better to give this dog a shot at some quality twilight years, rather than spend time in the SPCA. I'm just hoping the Dog will be into sitting, lying down, and being petted, since none of us here, human, or otherwise, are terrifically into physical activity.
We go on drives, and outtings to the park, but we're all inclined to sit rather than run about. Lucas enjoys the sun, but not so much running about in it. My kind of dog - laaaaazy. Brake appointment today. Send mojo - sort of worried they won't let the car ou of the garage without inspecting it.
If it gets inspected, we will have to pay lots of money to bring it up to code, as it were. Kurt cracked the windshield explaining something. There's a bit of tail light missing. Little things, really, but, expensive little things to repair. Also, we got a call from our insurance telling us that we were initally quoted incorrectly, and we must hop to pay the difference, or be uninsured. This strikes me as being a little unfair, since it was their mistake, and all. A few have been asking about my paranoia, its quality, whether or not I really believe I'll be aducted by aliens, in short, is it normal edgy, or crrrrrrrrrraaazzzzzy edgy? Here is the best explanation I've come up with so far: I'm pretty far from panic attacks...it's a lot like i ate a lot of expresso beans, drank a vat of coffee, watched a scary movie, and decided to spend some quality time in the woods immediately after. We're not talking people-are-out-to-get-me paranoia (although, honestly, my feelings about Herr and Farulein Landlord come close), but we are talking holy-shit-don't-sneak-up-behind-me-twitch-twitch paranoia. Which, incidently, may not be ACTUAL paranoia, just excessive jumpyness. Had my first prank phone call at work last night, and it was a mother. It started out sort of funny, I had been playing along like I knew the person, and, i guess i sort of thought i did - like it was the friend of a staff member or some such.
Got nasty about two minutes into the call, my life was threatened, the guy said he was watching me, and him and his buddies were going to come and forcibily remove my attitude problem. Pizza Poppa came downstairs, took the phone, and the guy got funny again. Poppa thought it was funny, and I managed a wan, sick little smile, and didn't say much. All the way home, I kept thinking "It was a prank, relax," alternating with "Fuck, i want a gun to smite those asshats.
" Poo probably understands my feeling - my sense of security was undermined. The crappy thing is that it was undermined by a bunch of sexually frustrated, drunken assholes. It is now 1:11pm. Time to go back to bed...ahhh, the life of a Wompire. I'd go outside, and bask, but there's no sun to bask in. And it's cold. And, there's wolves after me. Good night. 
