dr. doooom's answering machine

Woke up to the alarm. Hit snooze. Woke up to radio. Hit snooze. Woke up to radio. Hit snooze. Woke up to radio. Realized I should get up. Mrs. P still out like a light. Stumble to the kitchen, little shit-zu’s jumpin all over the place, they wanna go outside. Ok you little bitches let’s go outside. Go outside. Damn I wish I had a yard like this (someday) hiked up the driveway & grabbed the paper. Breathed in the morning and air and looked out at the pacific ocean and chinaman’s hat. Nice. Yelled at the younger dog to stop eating crap out of the ground cuz her stomach is all fucked up anyway.

Walked back in the house. Put the two different kinds of dog food in the two different bowls and performed the necessary segregation as instructed so dog B does not eat food A and thereby have a tummy embolism. Cubby eats in the office, where Mrs. P is already back at studying for today’s bio final. One more test mi amor and then pau until summer school.

Stumbled into the shower. I don’t care if you’ve got a shower the size of fukn Julius caesar’s swimming pool, if it don’t have proper water pressure it sucks my hairy, um, trombone. Seriously though. What the hell? Hi we spent a grip on this phat tile shower with the whole 9 yards view out the window on the ocean, and, wait what’s this? Oh yeah, it’s like dripping water on you. fukn hell. I’ll take my little bathtub shower back at the crib that shoots water like a real g. any damn day sucka. And all they had was this fancy ass shampoo for color damaged hair – dumb blone? Has anyone heard of this? Anyway, my locks are soooo silky smooth today though, so it’s all good I guess.

Ok so next step was to get my ass out the door, but not before wishing a bon vivant to Mrs. P, whatever that means, and then it’s like I gotta make like kirk gowdie. Meaning I’m outtie. Cuz you KNOW I gotta feed wacko. So it’s heading on down kamehameha, waves lapping on my left, mountain rising to my right, the road is beckoning and I am answering as I must. So anyway, I groove on down the lane and hit up the alf-mansion. Pop in the backdoor like a true mackadocious and well alright then, wacko seems happy to see me. What playboy? You thought I was gonna leave my #1 fish hanging like a new kid? Hellzz no (ps: clubs, restaurants, etcetera, please listen up. It’s NOT ok yet to play NKOTB, ok? Please give it at least another 20. seriously. Not kidding. Ok moving on) so anyway, wacko ate up that food like the playa-president that you and I know he is, and then it was time to feed the “other” fish, meaning the mass leftover vagabonds from the bio experiment that live in the bucket. Chill shortie, we change their water every once and a now, they happy, it’s like a grayfish commune up in there. But wacko, wacko is his own man, king o’ his castle, na mean? Yeah you do.

So then I decided to eat some cereal. Poured the milk, contemplated putting on a pot of coffee, but said, you know what keith? Today you go without, and actually, so far, it’s aiiiight. I even made it through the last half-hour listening to morissey kill uncle, and I don’t even want to kill my cousin. So overall no complaints. Grabbed the latest snoop disc from the vault at the cavern, flipped it to the OFC (office – trying that OFC on for size, I don’t know, doesn’t fit) and here I sit blabbin inconsequential dogshit at you, dear reader.

And here I shall remain until it’s time to take big al to the airport.