If my wife isn’t around, I don’t eat. It’s not because she cooks or she makes me eat or anything like that. It’s just that when she’s not around, my routine falls in the shitter. Instead of coming home, cleaning up the house and playing with the baby and cooking and eating as a family, I come home, play with the baby then just kind of lounge around, maybe surf the internet or read or watch tv or play guitar and then, fuck me! It’s nine thirty and I’m eating tuna right out of the can. It’s the truth. Men would just die without women, or you know, live in a messy box and eat olives and mustard and whatever’s just laying around. Unless you’re talking gay guys, in which case you’ll probably want some fennel thrown in there too. And the gay guys probably have a nice leather couch. Whatever. You get it. Anyway…
When we’re all home, we both cook, though lately I’ve been cooking more, which I like. However, after the events of last night and today, I don’t think I’ll ever touch food again. It’s so gross, I just had to pause, due to the grossness. There. I paused again. Come on. Deep breath. Here goes:
Last night, my old lady was working late. After my can of tuna (and small bowl of variously colored cherry tomatoes from the farmers market with some blue cheese) I was deciding on my after dinner, pre bed cocktail. I picked a Jim Beam, splash of soda, rocks. It turned out to be delicious. Not the point. Okay, so I was walking from the kitchen area where the booze is kept, back towards the tv when suddenly my sock kicked something. It was dogshit. But it was odd dogshit. It was fluffy, like it had been whipped or something. It was kind of the consistency of really fluffed, light peanut butter.
Now, these dogs don’t usually shit out of their prescribed zone. They’ll do it now and then when they’re pissed that we’ve been neglecting them, and one of them has to walk when she shits (don’t ask me why or how she came up with this methodology) so sometimes we get a trail from their little dumping ground around the general vicinity, but for the most part, the dogs keep their shit in the area where they’re supposed to shit, which is in the laundry room, on pads. Hey, they’re small dogs. It’s little turds, like cat turds almost. This is precisely why I didn’t see this one last night and kicked it all over the rug and floor and got it all in my sock.
So, I cleaned it up. I was pretty pissed. It was messy, mostly due to the fluffy, smeary, highly unusual consistency. But I got it all clean and settled in to watch some tv. A few minutes go by and suddenly I look up to see one of my dogs (the Business Monkey) barfing. She’s barfing right in the same spot that I had just cleaned. AND she was barfing stuff that looked just like what I had just cleaned up. Oh. Mystery solved and way less gross. That wasn’t a strange fluffy turd, it was strangely congealed barf. When the dog doesn’t feel well she usually comes near either me or my wife to barf, I guess just for moral support. So, anyway, the poor dog is sick. I cleaned up the barf and put her on my lap. She didn’t feel well. I started to fall asleep on the couch and went to bed. SPOILER ALERT: the next paragraph is the gross one.
This morning, I wake up to find, to my abject horror, the reason for the strange barf and sick dog. Apparently, last night, while I was putting the baby down, she (the dog) somehow snuck in the room, got into his diaper pail and ate a bunch of shit out of one of the diapers. So that fluffy peanut butter shit that I kicked wasn’t just shit, but dog-barfed-half-digested-baby-shit.
So.
Fucking.
Disgusting.
So yeah. I’ll never eat again, probably. Oh, the dog’s fine today. So’s the baby. Me, not so much.
I’m going out of town in a week, and I’m having trouble getting my shifts covered at work. It’s the kind of thing that I don’t care about at all, and if there weren’t all sorts of assholes looking for jobs everywhere, I’d just tell ‘em to stuff it up their asses and quit and get another crappy job, BUT, I can’t do that because, well I’ve got a baby to feed and a wife to appease and if I don’t put food in front of the baby, he won’t shit, then the dogs won’t eat, and that’s just cruel. Dogs can’t get jobs. It’s a crazy world.
Funny side note. Earlier this week, we were out on the porch just chilling when I noticed the baby about to put something in his mouth. It was a dog turd. I got it out of his hands just fine…but fuck, there’s something going on in this house. There’s really not an abundance of shit just laying everywhere, despite what this little tale would have you believe, but the “under thirty pounds club” that lives here seems to be really looking high and low for the opportunities to eat turds whenever they can get ‘em. The really crazy thing is that the dogs don’t eat their own shit. They’re like shit connoisseurs. Well, gotta be a nerd about something, right?
Whatever, man. Work time. Maybe I’ll get fired. Now THAT’S a song title, Andriano!
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32 comments:
Jesus god. I was not expecting that, and yeah, I kind of never want to eat again.
And that's a great song title. You tell 'im!
This going out of town business better not interfere with your blog entries.
Gross.
But seriously, you're wright about dudes not eating without their ladies. When my s/o had to go to her job's shitty conference, she was gone for three nights. Basically, all I had for dinner those three nights was a big tub of macaroni salad and beer. I probably through some cookies into the mix as well.
When she's home, it's much the same as casa de Kelly (minus the shit-making baby and shit-eating, barf-making dogs) - we both cook and eat regular meals and such.
Ladies of BSC - why do ya'll just have this urge to eat regular meals in a healthy way and make your men do it too?
Um - please excuse the "Wright" typo in my previous post ...
And the "through" typo also. Gosh, I can't spell today.
im actually terrible at keeping regular eating schedules. or, eating consistently at all. it mostly comes down to food being present and edible, then its dinner time.
going out of town is fun -- whats the over/under on blogging remotely?
Have you ever gotten food poisoning and ended up shitting and puking at the same time? Now that's an experience. It happened to me once, and while it was a completely miserable experience, I kind of laughed immediately afterward.
Disclaimer:
tigerclub is incapable of cooking.
Fortunately, her kick-ass boyfriend is an expert cook.
had anyone listened to The Flatliners/ The Snips 7" split its fucking awesome. Both bands did a bunch of small songs and flowed them together into 5 minute epics.
And Andriano making a song title not containing something about loving or needing to be loved or just relating to a girl(exception of his split with Mike Felumlee) would e a surprise :P
your dogs can get jobs!
there's a pet modeling agency in town that says that your dog can make a hundred bucks an hour. i am tempted to take rupert on audition and sponge off of his adorable little squish face like he's an olsen twin circa 1995.
the offer to become a dog stage parent with me has been extended.
Today's comments are pathetic- a bunch of men perpetuating the can't cook, can't clean, can't live without a woman (and if they can, they're gay) stereotype. I'm still a man who likes vaginas just because I also like to live in a sweet apartment and cook like a champ.
Single men get a bad rap in this culture of marriage and monogamy or die alone. What about single men? Where are our tax breaks because we've chosen what's becoming an alternative lifestyle of its own- one that exercises freedom?
And btw, it's because the song title sounds like "maybe I'll *catch* fire" that Bren mentioned Dan.
My Chihuahua, used to like dirty tampons.....
Man, any single dude with any sense learns to cook at least a little and keeps a reasonably clean, tidy house, because he wants to get laid. Nothing tells a female visitor "I have my shit together, you should let me stuff" like a clean apartment. It doesn't need to be immaculate, that is a little creepy and not worth the hassle. Who gives a fuck about pleasing bitches with OCD? They'd just nag you all the time. But if a girl wouldn't be comfortable walking from your bedroom to your bathroom, and using said bathroom, barefoot and scantily clad if not naked because you just banged her silly, you gotta clean shit up, bro.
David, I'm a girl and I'm a total slob... and I eat candy bars for dinner if someone else isn't cooking me something delicious... and the saddest part is that I'm a really great cook. I don't think it goes by gender, entirely.
As for the shitting thing... I can change a diaper and be fine, but I have never cleaned cat shit in my life, and never plan to (I've had at least two cats in my house for as long as I can remmeber).
wildanimal is right on with that. NO ONE gets a girl over that is worth a damn with a shitty place and no food.
I will tell you, that last bit with the song title came out of left field and i almost fell out of my chair...hell and yeah
And burn the rest, When I was a kid, I had food poisoning with the puke/shits. I didn't think it was funny though. My mom didn't either. Food poisoning is the worst.
I like to cook, I just hate cooking for myself. When you cook with someone else you talk, sit down and eat together and do the dishes, it's a whole event.
When you're alone it just feels like a chore. I don't want to spend 30mins preparing something I'm going to wolf down in front of the TV and then have to do the dishes solo on.
Call it laziness, but I too eat like garbage when my girlfriend isn't home.
@burntherest: yes. In highschool I had some kind of gastro-viral infection that fucked me up bad. I couldn't even hold down applesauce or jello or water.
GROSS WARNING: For like two days,every 30 mins some form of liquid was coming out of some hole, it was miserable. Sometimes I'd be sitting on the throne praying for death and all of a sudden whatever was trying to get out would reverse direction forcing me to wipe and flush in record time only to turn around and vomit where my ass had been seconds before.
It sucked.
Deleted and edited for clarity.
I end up in the same situation when my girlfriend isn't around. And it's not because she cooks. I actually do the cooking most of the time because I get off work a few hours before she does, but without he motivation to feed someone else I just don't care as much and get caught up doing other shit.
PS, is anyone else excited that Alan Moore and Neil Gaiman's Marvelman is finally going to see print again after 20 years of legal hassle? I'm so stoked on that news.
You spell "chode" weird a few posts back. Sorry I was at the beach on dial-up all week and couldn't follow you day by day and missed the anniversary. I saw Rise Against and Rancid last night and decided for good that it's not fair to judge a band by their latest album. Kickass show.
love,
Kyle
Loved the trio reference. Just made the pretty gross story end on a good joke.
Sweet Raising Arizona reference? Now that's a blog title, BK!
Whenever my niece shits in the toilet and I have to wipe her ass, she always asks, "What does it look like?"
She's gross and aweseome.
When I was married I cooked every night, cuz I had someone else to feed. Now that it's just myself, I don't care. I'll eat whatever's easy, like a lean cuisine. Once in a while I'll make hamburger helper, tuna helper, or jumping the tuna melts.
Once my dog (mini-dachsund) decided it would be a great idea to eat foam from the underside of an old couch. A lot of barf and an emergency vet clinic trip later, all was better, but it was gross seeing this foam coming out of my dog's mouth because it had absorbed the nasty bile and pieces of dog food were stuck to it, and I thought that was the nastiest thing I'd ever seen. Until my dog's affection for furry thing and hairy things led to it pooping out long strands of hair (likely MY hair) and then dragging its butt around, looking at me desperately for help. I thought that was the grossest thing ever, too... and then I read your post. You win and I'm glad I lost.
p.s. After a re-read of my post, I feel that it's necessary to clarify that when I say my hair I'm ONLY referring to the hair on my head. I feel much better now.
Dogs love eating poop like crazy. One of my mates has a huge dog and a bunch of cats and the dog always tries to sneak in a meal of cat-shit when nobody is looking. This was all unbeknownst to me until I woke up after a heavy night of drinking on his couch to find the dog standing over the cat-litter wailing on a little nugget of catty goodness. Hot stuff yeah.
Dear BK,
My best friend has been dating this girl for around 4 months or so. He lives across the street and he's also in my band, so we basically hang out every day. She is also with him/us all the time. She is in love with him, but I'm not sure if he feels the same way because whenever she gets all lovey-dovey, he kinda clams up. Anyway, I pretty much can't stand her, and I think she's detrimental to him. Sometimes we get along okay, but mostly she just pisses me off. She's conservative, christian, and thinks it's hip to be trashy. She's borderline retarded. All they do is get high and sit around all the time. Anyway, do I tell him I hate her and I think he can do way way better, or just kind of let it go? Because I kinda feel her own idiocy will catch up to them at some point and they will break up. If so, how do I tell him?
You classify this dude with best friend status, so I assume you at least marginally care for his overall well being? Do your civic duty and save him from this "dumb cunt". I mean, that scenario sounds even more horrific than the plotline of 'Flatliners'. ..Anyway, fuck all that that "duuuh, it's myyYy life, and I'll like who I want tooOoo" horseshit. Sometimes third party intervention is just what the doc ordered in such cases.
I mean...conservative, christian? The question practically answers itself, silly~! She must have a splendid vagina, or something.
When my dog was a baby she liked to gobble her own turds, but I generally kept her from doing so. One time she apparently had an accident in the house, ate it before I realized what had happened,and vomited it all over me and my bed at 4AM. Most horrendous middle-of-the-night wake up call EVER.
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