barkbarkbarkbarkbark

I find myself absolutely enraged with my dog, Pancho, quite often these days. He’s a barker, and it’s in his nature to be loud. I mean, fuck, he’s a Chihuahua. They’re mouthy little dogs. But man, when that baby is asleep and he starts barking it’s all I can do not to kick him across the room. Not because I’ve got this parental mechanism of nurturing or anything like that. Not at all. No, it’s more that I’ve got just the tiniest little window each day to do EVERYTHING I need to do that I can’t do while making sure an increasingly speedy and curious little beast doesn’t fall in the toilet/fall off the porch/ stick his fingers in the light sockets/get too close to my dildo tree etc. SO, that means I’m cooking/brushing teeth/getting dressed/typing this dumb blog/making breakfast/working on music or scripts or whatever/perusing porn/having coffee/emailing/giving myself a haircut/shaving my balls/doing the dishes/wiping down the counters/filling out my tax organizer and you know, looking at internet porn (again) all in this tiny window of time. So when that fucking dog starts barking, I lose my mind. That’s not something to fuck with, Pancho. I have a new great game…for every bark he expels while the baby’s sleeping, that’s one day he goes without food. I don’t know how effective it is, but it’s saving me a fortune on dogfood.
Nah, Pancho’s cool. I just don’t have much time. I know there are people out there in an office with kids who would kill to have as much time as their kids as I do with mine and I’m not really overtly trying to shit on that desire, I’m just saying everything is delicious when it’s parceled out, but when you get it all the time…yeah, it’s rewarding. Heaven forbid you don’t mention how rewarding it is to have kids…fine, you happy? It’s rewarding, but it’s like eating a fucking box of frosting for dinner. First bite, awesome. After a while, gets to be a little much, you know? Touring is like this too, but that’s another story entirely.
Look, I had this rant many months ago and I mentioned that if someone wanted to leash their kid, it was their prerogative and that I didn’t get why people got so upset about parents tethering a small, fast, stupid thing that doesn’t know the word ‘no’ and has no idea about consequences of any kind to them. People shout “don’t put your kid on a leash” and shit, as though it’s their business. Hey, thanks for the advice. Here’s some for you: don’t fucking tell strangers how to raise their kids. Sheesh.
Anyway, that was the gist of the rant and this girl wrote in here and said something to the effect of “yeah, well I take care of my nieces all the time and I never ever would use a leash…I’m an experienced babysitter.” Yeah and you might think you’re great at giving handjobs too, but let me tell you something, honey: It ain’t nothing compared to having one of your own, if you get my drift.
Look, girls, you’re all pretty bad at handjobs and that’s fine…Nobody wants a handjob from you anyway. I mean, maybe if that’s the high bid item on the menu, we’ll take it, but it’s a whole lot like going out to a restaurant and getting a microwaved hotpocket. There’s no reason to get dressed and leave the house. You can get a handjob/hotpocket right in your kitchen. SO, while it may be technically fine (unlikely), it’s not anything anyone’s terribly stoked on. Unless you and the guy who’s wiener you’re giving the handjob to are like fifteenish, in which case, I shouldn’t even be writing this to you. Eeeeew.
I’m getting off the subject that is only tangentially related to the subject at hand (that’s a pun, assholes…that’s how you pun). Handjobs…no one wants a handjob, just like no one goes to the exit ramp. They use the exit ramp to get from the highway to the gas station, but no one actually has a destination at the exit ramp. The handjob is a basic introduction of the penis to the woman. “this is my penis. It’s about this size and these are the bumps/sores/jogs to the left/gonzo nose shaped shaft/enormous balls that you’ll be telling all your friends about later,” because essentially, every man is an agent for their penis. The penis is an actor, let’s say, and every guy’s job is to convince pretty much everyone that they can that their penis would be perfect in whatever part they’re offering (another pun…this time I’m not so happy with it though. It’s cheap. It’s the kind of pun that comedians who tell knock knock jokes use…let’s all forget it).
The handjob is the audition, really. That’s the chance to get it out there and show what it can do, but it’s not the movie. To get back to my original point, girls can’t give handjobs, everyone knows this inherently. Guys practice handjobs all day long, and you think you’re gonna waltz in and whip up a handjob that compares? Sorry ladies. Everyone knows this, as I said, and it’s fine, because as I also said, we’re really just looking for blowjobs or vagina or butt jobs anyway, so fine, we sit through the handjobs…no sweat. Cool.
What does this have to do with babysitting/keeping kids on a leash? I’m going to direct this to the smug babysitter who has wily nieces who she’d NEVER need to keep on a leash (just by the way, I don’t keep my kid on a leash…just so we’re clear).
Hey bitch! You get to go home!!!! You get to sleep! People who have kids wake up EVERY DAY at six, or five AM or three times in the night. They/we are tired. They/we have twelve hour days devoted to chasing some little shit around and we NEVER get to sleep in. SO, at the end of that exhausting day where you were such a rad babysitter, you get to go home, sleep through the night and sleep in until, I don’t know, benefit of the doubt let’s say 8. On the weekends, you can do what ever the fuck you want and sleep as long as you want. That’s amazing. You’re fucking READY to go on those days when you babysit. Heh! Babysit. Wow. You deserve a fucking medal. Listen, until you’ve gotten forty five hours of sleep in thirty days, don’t fucking compare your little trip around the mall with the walking zombie lifestyle that having one of these little monkeys entails. Whatever. Did I mention it’s rewarding? Good. Okay, so we’re clear? You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about, right? Good.
Fuck.
Oh, and just one final thing, regarding the handjob thing, totally true, but let there be no mistake made, the male lack of understanding of the beaver is astounding. Women really just have to get the wiener to the right spot and blam! Everything’s great. Dudes, you (we) could probably all stand to brush up on our beaver handling techniques. Just throwing this out there, you know, because I don’t want this to seem sexist or anything.
Okay, go fuck yourselves (i don't think that's a pun...kind of an overt entendre with a clever, couched meaning, right? cool).