in living color
09.04.04 @ 11:12 p.m.
Dad left this morning. Nothing was really happening at the dog show (Jaybez (I have no idea how to spell that dog's name, apparently it's something biblical), a Billy son, is pretty much in the awkward teenager stage of development, all long legs and no depth to his chest. Not conducive to big point wins) so we left as soon as Dogs were finished. This Captain Haggerty fellow liked small, bitchy looking males. I halfway wonder what he would have put up in Bitches, but not enough to have wanted to stick around.
Since then, I've been alternately doing jack shit and cleaning. I replaced a lot of light bulbs, even though they were still good. They were weird, "commercial" light bulbs (that's what it said on the end, anyway) that the landlord put in. They claim to be 60W. No fucking way. I put in 60W Soft Whites and everything is worlds better. Also, I put the prettiest fixture plate thing in my room from one of the others.
This is not interesting.
Bobby has been a huge pain in the ass all day. Pooped in the house. Won't go pee outside. Chewing on everything except his chew toys. Gaaaah. Except for the last couple of hours, where he was very sweet and slept on my belly while I laid on the couch and watched TV.
I had (am still having? not sure) a very minor bout of depression this afternoon that mostly amounted to me lying in the tub and letting the shower pour on me until the hot water had almost run out. It did run out while I was trying to rinse the conditioner out of my hair. I have a minorly compulsive thing where I have to rinse my hair several times.
I'm not sure if I'm going to keep this dog. I kind of rambled about it this afternoon on Dumbrella, and at the moment I'm too sleepy to be anything close to coherent, let alone eloquent, at this point.
OH. Dad and I watched all five episodes on the first DVD of In Living Color. FUCKING AWESOME. I remember watching it with my sister, illicitly. She loved it, and as a fourteen year old, she was allowed to watch it. Me, I was seven. Mom told me I wasn't allowed, as I was too young. But hey, if I happened to be in the same room as my big sister, well, oh well. So I got to see it whenever Wannie was around. I remember Fire Marshall Bill. I remember Homey the Clown. I remember Fly Girls, I remember the set they danced on. Watching it on DVD was very funny, and a natural extention of The Richard Pryor Show, which is amazing in that it ever got on the air. I think ILC was funnier, though. Seeing the opening credits sparked my memory immediately.
It probably won't be too long before I end up back at Blockbuster to rent the other two DVDs from the first season.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
