puppytoes

blame it on lenny.

listen. i have a very good reason for not putting up a post monday tuesday yesterday. it all started with lenny, the creepy bug guy.

after we moved to stamford, mommy and daddy had to switch pest control service. the guy who used to come to our house in greenwich was really nice. and fast. in...spray...out. justlikethat. lenny is not. lenny likes to talk. and talk. and talk. that's not to say lenny's not nice, for to be sure, he is. but does he have to regale mommy with stories about his "mystery" ailments, which include things like random aches & pains, bowel-related maladies, and a rash that just won't go away? i didn't think so. and is it really necessary for him to ask mommy for advice about a girl he thinks he's in love with but who broke up with him and so he sends her cards and flowers and calls her father in idaho and follows her around and buys her stuff and when she tells him she doesn't love him can't she tell he really loves her and so she's gonna change her mind soon right?  and looks funny at mommy when she gently suggests he should, perhaps, find someone new to stalk date? and then there's his cat.  his 17 year old cat. with the tumor. the oozy tumor. honest-to-god, people, is it necessary for him to go into explicit detail about this old ugly cat with this creepy oozy tumor? and then ask mommy how much it's gonna cost to have it taken care of? lenny. i'll take care of your fucking cat for free. leave mommy alone. lose the address. oh, and stop taking those steroids that have turned your 5 foot 6 frame into the Hulk with sticks for legs. seriously dude. flex in front of a full length mirror. then break into that rodent-shaped piggy bank of yours and buy a clue.

whew. am i glad to get that off my chest! as you can see, having a creep guy like lenny show up at the door first thing in the morning is exhausting and horribly distracting! tho', that said, i confess to being somewhat entertained watching mommy dodge his pathetic attempts at small talk:

"hey lenny."

"hi. wow. you look like you've lost weight."

"not really. couple of pounds. anyway...uh i don't think we've ha..."

"you look so good. like a teenager!"

"what? me? ha! thanks... anyway, i don't think we've ha..."

"did i tell you about my cat?"

"no, but i th..."

"he has cancer."

"sorry to hear that. now abou..."

"yeah... he's my best friend. my only comfort. especially now that that girl i told you about -- the one who broke up with me?-- well, she still hasn't returned any of my calls. i mean, what do i have to do to get her attention? i finally went by her house...but no one was there, and there are boards covering the windows. i figured she's having new windows put in. you think that's what she's doing?"

"uh, no. i think maybe she moved."

"yeah. moved out while she has those new windows put in. then she'll probably call and ask me over so we can talk. think that's what she's gonna do?"

"uh, no. i think she's left and won't be coming back."

"yeah she won't come back until after the windows are done. the place will look so much better after that. should i call her dad to find out where she's staying? maybe i should go buy some curtains. what kind would you suggest?"

"lenny... about those bu..."

"i haven't talked to her in 3 months. i bet she's gonna be really upset when i tell her about my cat."

"was she fond of your cat?"

"no. but she'll be worried about me because she knows how much he means to me. maybe i should wait outside the place she works and see if she wants to go with me to the vet tomorrow."

"lenny... i don't think that's a very good idea. i think you should sit tight and wait for her to call."

"so, you think she's gonna call?"

you get the picture. yep, poor lenny. harmless. and clueless enough to be a republican. i'm not making this up, it's all his fault i haven't been able to post sooner. i mean, it must be his fault, because i just love doing this, and wouldn't put it off for anything/anyone! stupid lenny. coming to our house to kill bugs. bugging mommy. stalking that girl and talking about his dumb oozy-tumored cat. creeping me out. making me put off a post.

"Procrastination is like masturbation.  At first it feels good, but in the end you're only screwing yourself."  ~Author Unknown

note to self...

...the next time mommy has to run a shitload of errands? and is, therefore, out of the house all morning and part of the afternoon? try to be productive. make the most of that time, self, so you'll have something to blog about when she gets back. because, self, and i can't stress this point enough, you can be pretty lame on any given day--but never more so than after you've had a few hours to do nothing but loaf around the house, peruse other blogs, nibble on a treat or two, and take long, lazy morning naps.

if you had been on the ball, self, you'd surely have beat daddy to the idol "results" punch... and mentioned the fact that bucky's own fans finally recognized the error of their voting ways and bid him adios last night, while the rest of the viewing world heaved a collective sigh of relief. in addition, you'd surely have noted the fact that simon cowell may soon be changing his name to simon scowl... because, i swear to all that's holly hunter, he looks like he wants/needs to punch something/someone out! (but who? ...paula? ryan? bucky? the show producers who thought it would be a good idea to have these amateurs sing songs and/or be coached by the likes of scary plastic surgery victims barry manilow and/or kenny rogers? or musical icons stevie wonder and/or queen? which is impossible? so the kids are sure to pretty much suck every week? when in the past the producers would just pick a song genre for the kids? am i tired of raising my voice at the end of every sentence? are you listening, self? do you see what you've reduced me to? are you sorry? really? really and truly? can i stop doing this, now?).

here's what i'm trying to help you understand, self: you've been slipping all week, and should, therefore, consider yourself on "notice".  ya hear me? snap out of this bloggy fog and get your bloggish act together! because--and you can quote me on this--there are plenty of other puppies out in the blogpound vying for attention... and, i hasten to add, plenty of folks willing to give it to 'em. of course, max and bobo cannot be counted among those puppies. and, now that i mention it, i doubt there's another tibetan terrier that even approaches your level of cuteness. so, come to think of it, self, even tho' you're technically on "notice", you and i both know the chances of anything happening anytime soon are pretty much slim...and none. i mean, come on! you are, after all, you, self... and, as we both know...that beats a sharp stick in the eye, any day! end of note.

"Whoever said you can't buy happiness forgot little puppies." ~ Gene Hill