What the fuck, dood?

If I had to give an overall impression of my day when asked off guard I would be like, Yeah, I had a pretty good day. And evidence would support this; I went swimming, I had a yummy lunch, an easy day at work, went to a wine tasting, chalk outlined TBU at an artwalk downtown and splattered paint all over a huge display in the same event. And you know what? It was a great day. At the wine tasting we talked to two adorably sweet ladies, while the proprietor recognized us and mentioned he didn’t expect to see us midweek. Is that a good thing? I dunno but it made me feel good. But you know why we had to drink midweek (like right, we only drink on the weekends)?

First thing this morning, a fucking yappy ass dog had the nerve to bite me. There was no blood but my wrist and palm still have the teeth marks. It wasn’t so much the pain that bothered me but the fact that the owner put me in the position, Don’t let Muffin out! So I made Muffin stay in, but Muffin is a bitch in every sense of the word. She knew Muffin was going to bite me, because that’s what Muffin does.

Then THEN, I’m in the home stretch, taking my last client home. I would say, I am 45 minutes from being in my pajamas on my couch and WHAT THE MOTHERFUCKING FUCK WAS THAT? Some douchehauser rear ends me. We pull over, he gets out with his Sidekick in hand, and douche-ily says, I guess I shouldn’t be textin’ huh? This kid is 18 years old and looks like a parody of an archetypal frat boy. He is a parody of himself. I get his info and we go on our ways. Oh, except Blakes daddy has his insurance information, can I call him later with to get the information?. But I get his licence plate, his driver licence, cell phone number and Blake, no last name. Why Millionizer did you not get the last name?! I don’t know if it really even matters.

It was pretty funny when TBU called pretending to be my ‘legal counsel’ after Blake wouldn’t return calls from my cell phone. Anyway, I know I’m not making any sense. Me so flustered, me love you long time.