You've Got to Be Kidding Me

It's Tuesday, so that must mean it's time for my dog to blasted by a skunk.

What the fuck? Does this little Pepe Le Pew motherfucker make his rounds of the backyards on this block? Tuesday night is blast-the-pinscher night?

Jesus Christ. I was under the sink, tightening the faucet because the Professor has been breaking my balls all week about it being loose. I start tightening it and my nostrils started stinging. At first I thought I'd stirred up some bad humors from the last time. But then I hear the dog spakking at the door.

It's not as bad this time, because the dog was blasted outside. But he ran straight up the stairwell, so the kitchen and office smell like mung.

Now Mike Shepherd can post a comment about how I plagiarized Wayne's World from 1990.

I was all set to blog about Mike Williams getting cut, Tommy Kelly being out for the season, Tim Dwight signing a contract, and Baby Lily's first big earthquake.

Fucking Skunks.