You are kidding me, right, passing this thing off as a fit-for-blog story?

You are supposed to come here on Monday morning and find one of those uplifting stories about a weekend dog show or some epiphany where a lesson was learned. Popular themes include, No Quitting Even When Disaster Involves Zombies, It’s the Journey Even if it’s to Hell and Perhaps in the Future We Will Get This Dog Agility Thing Right. And you chuckle over your coffee and are all, HA! She fails even worse than us!

So right, uplifting for you! Thanks!

There could have been tears shed or crazy guys with a net or amateur forensic analysis applied to blood spatter patterns on the sidewalk due to overzealous Dexter watching. This is called narrative structure and there should be a beginning, middle and an end, except I frequently forget one of those. And I might invoke irony or popular culture references that totally appeal to my peoples. Who I think are a lot of ladies in their 40’s that hope skorts are flattering and make them look like the pictures in Athleta catalog and pretend their hair doesn’t look as bad as it actually does.

Except all that happened this weekend was going to work. And then when the team finally got to go for a lame, stupid walk around the block at the end of it all, all that happened was one of those kids from down the street that used to be really cute but has now been downgraded to enemy of the state was out playing and was playing a game of how loud can I put the HelloKitty microphone blaster in the dogs’ ears. You have this toy? Totally like the thing the Kelly Deal sisters used for ironic indie music during the Breeders due to Pixie upheaval and now every 5yr old on the block has one and makes the exact same sounds. Into dog ears. Of course the dogs were really tolerant because HelloKitty microphones are blissfully dog and parent proof and all the kids on the block know just let Otterpop lay there and she doesn’t look at you because she has personal problems and just let her watch the squirrels.

The other ones, HelloKitty blaster away. They don’t care. HA! Non fail of dog training.

Overall, good kids on the block. I like kids. Except then this one, she decided to tickle me and when she had her grimy little 5yr old hands all over me that were probably touching boogers and sticky things previous and I’m not complaining because I like kids and get it, announced that I was really fat and obviously had a baby in my stomach.

Then she told me she was going to France.

And then she tried to cross the street without looking and while this could have been my chance to eliminate a brand new enemy of the state, I made her stop and look both ways and then she was gone.

I’m not sure if this is what she meant by going to France, or if she is actually flying there on a plane to put her hands all over muscley french lady abs and look for beer guts and babies. I personally used to have muscley french lady abs and then this year so many weekends working and working working working and probably JUST BECAUSE I didn’t buy the special Susan Garrett tiny trampoline of flat miracle abs, this is what it’s come to.

So then I had to go home and do situps using up valuable time during which I could have been typing something far more interesting on the computer and eating an ice cream sandwich. So now, we all lose.

Except maybe that 5 year old is really going to France. Bitch.