Hello sweet chinchillas,
I’m a little behind on household chores at the moment so I had to blow dry myself off this morning after my shower. That’s right, blow dry my body off. At the age of 25 years old. If that’s not the kind of housewife you want around, I don’t know what is. I’m pretty shocked that nobody has tried to snatch me up for eternal bliss yet.
I couldn’t sleep last night so I decided to go on a little walk in the middle of the night. Riley was pretty tired so I leashed up the ole kitty cat since let’s face it, my neighborhood isn’t the safest and Nine could easily be confused with a baby white tiger. As we were strolling along, we came across a gang of homeless women painting bridges and since I am light on the girl friend front, (with only a whopping 3, possibly 2 since Monica is currently treading on thin ice) I decided to try my luck at some new friendships by picking up a can of spray paint and trying to help out. Immediately after attempting to lend a helping hand, I got kicked in the shin by one of the larger women in the group. This was a little shocking because I figured I’d fit right as I hadn’t showered for days and I was drinking wine straight out of the bottle at the time.
After getting kicked, I decided to leave those crazed broads alone and continue on with my stroll; the rejection sinking in deeper and deeper with each step I took. I got only a block away when I realized that I had never wanted to be friends with anyone more in my life and a light bulb went off on my head: These women are probably very hungry! I should offer them a peace offering!
Around the same time that the light bulb went off, I saw a baby wild cat in which I caught, choked to death and then feed to Nine so I could then offer a much plumper version of my cat to my future homies. Now I know what you are thinking; why not just feed them the wild cat and spare little Nine his life and I must interrupt your thoughts and remind you that that it is really none of your business.
I walked the block back and handed over little Nine; fat and ready to eat. The woman cheered, hugged me and accepted me into their group with open arms so I went home sans Nine but plus 6 smelly, homeless, barbaric friends. Feeling pretty pleased with myself, I was able to drift right off.
My very first homeless friend circa 2009. I drunkenly took control over his wheelchair/life on sixth street.