Really?
I'll say this for you. You've got chutzpah. Either that or you're incredibly clueless and should have your breeding rights curtailed immediately.
All I wanted to do was take the dogs out for a few minutes and let them take care of business, then hurry home and eat something. See, I've been working a lot lately and reaching the point of exhaustion, so I let myself sleep in a little. I got up so late, I didn't have time for a real meal before my tap class. Then I shuffle ball changed, flapped and time stepped my little heart out for a couple of hours. And now I'm sweaty and starving. But, when the dogs gotta go, they gotta go, so here I am.
I don't even know why I'm explaining myself. There is no possible way for you to hear me.
Because there you are, sitting in your stupid tricked-out SUV, blasting something that out here sounds like the bombing of Sarajevo. And my dogs are so freaked out by your seismic booms that their little anuses have clenched up. You know what that means? As soon as we get home and they feel safe again, they will unleash their malodorous gems all over my carpet.
I have no problem giving you the stinkeye. Only, every time I look at you, you hit me with what you clearly consider your most irresistible sexy face.
Yeah.
Rest assured, the only thing you arouse in me is my fight or flight response. And maybe the need to lie down, because your assault on my eardrums has given rise to a budding migraine.
Thanks a lot, dumbass.
No comments:
Post a Comment