It's your first night with a new puppy. She seems happy in her new home, has been there for nearly 4 hours and behaved perfectly except for one tiny thing: she hasn't performed her biological business. And it's getting late. Take a dump, dog!
Two reasonably intelligent people tried many different things to get this to happen with no success. We'd about given up, went searching for puppy suppositories and dog dishes full of warm water. She squealed at us from the other side of the screen door as we implored her, "Go...on the paper, on the patio, in the garden, in the dirt...Anywhere!"
Ohhhhh...well...except there. On the carpet. Less than two seconds after wedging her way into the house. I thought it was funny. Owner of said house and carpet? Not so much.
So, another nice evening with the lovely young lady with whom I've been spending a fair amount of time (kind of a mouthful, maybe time for an acronym) while not telling her about the blog even though I'm sure she wonders why I get phone calls past midnight from random people around the country and further wonders what possible origin could there be for me occasionally referring to The Bracelet or Chadarama or DonkeyPuncher.
It came up in conversation last night: Something of a State Of The Wooing communique in between tending to puppy needs. And it was settled that we are not yet at the point of Exclusivity. My reaction to which is, "Wait...we still get to see each other a lot...but when we're not pawing at each other over there on the couch, I can...like...pick up random chicks at Applebee's?"
Precisely. Hear that ladies? (Have we beaten that one far enough into the ground yet? Gawd, I hope not.)
She asked if I was okay with that and I am, thinking it's not only prudent at this relatively early stage of our acquaintance, considering as well our shared circumstances, but also because I've experience with the person I'm seeing--or even married to--dating someone else.
So, now that I'm apparently still on the market and I don't believe there were any limitations placed on my participation, allow me to list some of my finer qualities for you hot, single members of my female audience (and you're all hot on the internet until proven otherwise, just remember that), those things you're not going to find anywhere else in the Dating World.
I know my 14-digit library card number by heart and it begins with a hammer-flop-eriffic 272...I quote liberally from "Beavis & Butthead"...My belt ALWAYS matches my shoes...I love to dance, when I'm 8 drinks past wasted or when there's a gun pointed at my head...I'm very handsome, a fact I verify in every mirror I pass...I'll happily wax my back hair into your initials. You only need ask...I played in the World Series of Poker last year. They don't let just anyone in, you know. What?...I have a tremendous capacity for remembering names, which can sometimes be a problem because with all those names packed in this tiny brain, sometimes the wrong one slips out at an inopportune time, like last night, when I was kissing her adieu, I called her "Iggy"...I will soon be the proud owner of a Layne Flack-autographed Full Tilt Basketball Jersey (suck it, drizzle)...I'm not wearing pants.
E-mail is on my profile page.