fire and control

“Everybody needs a hero.  Regardless of status, rank, salary, income, or respect, the outstanding personality always surfaces from the sidelines to save the listless, the colorless, and the personality-deficient from their seemingly pointless and empty lives.“

I have this older woman and her husband taking one of my puppy classes with their little yorkie.  After class today the older woman called me over, (she always calls me Honey, Sweetie, Darling) “Honey, I have to tell you, You are just so beautiful.  You’ve got the prettiest skin.”

:):)

From GQ:

“About five years ago, during one of the Yankees’ late-October playoff runs, Jack Nicholson walked into Manhattan’s Pastis restaurant in the middle of the lunch rush. He was dressed in a Sopranos-grade tracksuit, a stiff Yankees cap, and a pair of black shades. The restaurant froze. Jack made his way through the tightly packed dining room and a table of five blonds whipped their necks around to stare. Without breaking stride, Jack cracked a grin and, in that raspy drawl, asked loud enough for more than a few tables to hear, “Ladies! How we doin’?” It was vintage Jack—pervy enough to appreciate their attention, cocky enough to leave them hanging, and smart enough not to let them interrupt his date with a steak sandwich. Not many of us grow up saying we want to be a heavyset divorcé who started losing his hair in his midthirties. But who wouldn’t want to be Jack? All charisma and swagger, he’s a man beyond clothes, trends, and hairdos. He’s a man, period.”

My idol.

Mackenzie bit my thumb tonight.

She didn’t break the skin, but godamn it still hurts.   I feel like I’m fuckin losing it.  Wednesday Lucky drew blood (puppy teeth are the devil), Thursday (again the dog didn’t break the skin but she put up a good fight), and today my own dog bites me.

I’m fuckin losing it.

Little devil didn’t like the “leave it” command tonight and decided if he couldn’t have the treats and my bait bag to eat, he’d rather eat my hands.  I bled, but now it looks like a papercut.  They wanted to send me to the hospital but I declined since I already had plans.  I met my cousin, my aunt, uncle, and my family for dinner at Koko’s .  Where of course everyone was all upset about the dog biting me but no one could actually find the puncture wound due to the bad lighting of the restaurant (and the glaring fact that you can’t really tell I was bitten at all).  I’ve been “bitten” before and this is no different.  Just a bad pairing between soft human flesh and sharp puppy teeth.

Maybe if my hands weren’t so godamned big and menacing to a small puppy.

There is so much Jack Nicholson in my life right now.

I’ve decided I’m going to Homecoming.  I just need someone to pick me up and take me to airports and we’re in fucking business.  It’s been two years since I’ve been to a football game/homecoming.  So you bitches better start preparing now.

I figured I should have another place to write besides my private journal.  So here it is and here I am.  God knows what I will actually be writing about.  But we’ll see how it develops.