So I let Alice out for her morning pee pee and who’s in the yard but this guy:
No, it’s not another Jehovah Witness. It’s Frank.
And if you’re not familiar with Frank, click here.
After that do try to keep up with us here, people.
Despite Mister’s best efforts to pee all over the yard in an attempt to scare Frank away, the varmint remains undeterred. In fact, I think Frank is a peeaphile because he’s still coming by for snacks every day.
He got my mint.
And my chives.
The little sonofabitch.
And Alice knows full well that we’re mad at Frank and so what does she do?
Bark at him and tell him “GO HOME FRANK!”?
She walks right up to him and ESKIMO KISSES HIM!!!! (is it still okay to say Eskimo Kissing? I know sitting Indian Style is now criss cross applesauce, so is it Eskimo American Kissing, or do we call it something else? Nosy nosy canoodle? Help me.)
Why not just let him fuck you Alice? And then you two can live happily ever after in a nest down by the pond and raise your little family of mint eating Schnauzerchuck babies.
I mean seriously!
I just paid $40 to have her hair cut yesterday, and she has a vet appointment on Friday at which I will be forced, again, to defend her when the vet tells me she’s “overweight” and I will have to cover her ears to protect her against his insensitive remarks and insist that she’s just fluffy! and then choke the vet until he concurs and also it will be expensive. You’d think the least she could do is refrain from flirting with garden eating woodland creatures.
Where is the love? Where is the gratitude Internet?
When there’s no respect for The QOFE, I turn into a cranky pants.