Oh, About Last Weekend...

Hey, Dad? Yeah, you in the hood. It's me, Ripley. I want to tell you something, OK? And I want to leave a message for you right now. 'Cause again, it's 1:30 here in Massachusetts on a Friday, and once again I've made an ass of myself trying to get you to post about last week's snowy agility event at a specific time. When the time comes for you to post, I stop whatever I'm doing, and I go and read that post. At 11 o'clock in the morning, and if you haven't posted, 10 o'clock at night. And you don't even have the $%#@& post up. I want you to know something, OK? I'm tired of playing this game with you. I'm posting this message to tell you that you have insulted me for the last time. You have insulted me. You don't have the brains or decency as a human being. I don't give a damn that you're busy, or you're upset about your performance as a handler last weekend, or that your dog, Maverick, is a thoughtless pain in the ass who doesn't even try to run the course right, as far as I'm concerned. You have humiliated me for the last time with your lack of postings.

And when I come into the next room in a couple minutes, I'm going to walk in there just to straighten you out on this issue. I'm going to let you know just how disappointed in you I am and how angry I am with you that you've gone this long without telling everyone how Mom and I got four Qs and three place ribbons last weekend, while you and Mav got none. You've made me feel like %$#&@, and you've made me feel like a fool over and over and over again. And this crap you pull on me with this %$@&# no-blogging situation that you would never dream of doing to Maverick when he Qs, you do it to me constantly and over and over again. I am going to get off this chair, and I am going to go into the next room, and I am going to straighten your ass out when I see you. Do you understand me? I'm going to really make sure you get it. Then I'm going to turn around, come back in here, and blog some more. So you'd better be ready today, Friday the 20th, to meet with me. I'm going to let you know just how I feel about what a rude little pig you really are. You are a rude, thoughtless little pig, OK?

Comments

[Jac]

PRICELESS.

Excellent work, Ripley!