More Land of Sunshine

Yeah, I sure did write more the next day, didn't I? Anyways, to continue on with my weekend during which I had a good time. Most people will find it boring, but oh well.

I left Bailey, my dog, in Dustin's jeep while I carried my things into the house. I left her there because Dustin's dog, Phoenix, and Bailey don't get along well. Both bitches think they should be in charge, although Bailey is half Phoenix's size. But my bitch sure is spunky, and she won't take crap from any mere dog. She only takes crap from humans. So I walk in, and Phoenix is all over me, rubbing against me kind of like a cat--well, about as well as an overweight 100 pound dog can rub like a cat--and whining like I'm her long lost sister; yet, I'm a male human being and she's a picky-ass, sensitive female dog. (Yeah, pay no attention to my half-assed similes. I'm not writing fiction, so who gives a shit? I know I don't.) Shelley says Hi and I say Hi, how ya doing? back to her. We hug and then she gives me the obligatory tour of her new home.

I gotta admit: mobile homes are a lot nicer than what they used to be. The ceiling isn't flat like the older ones are, so you don't have this cramped in feeling of a low ceiling, as if you're in a can that might be crushed at any moment. Nope. It was steepled in the middle and looked rather nice. The entire structure was bigger than I thought, and its insulation was great. I couldn't feel any air coming from the window sills, and when you spoke, it didn't seem obnoxiously loud--the sounds pinging and panging off the walls and ceiling--like other mobile homes I'd been in. All in all it's not a bad place. A living room, dining room, kitchen, breakfast nook, three bedrooms, and two bathrooms.

I remembered Bailey 20 minutes later. Oops. But I think that was a good thing that I left in the jeep because Phoenix had settled down. So I brought Bailey in and kept the two mutts separate.

And the drinking began . . . because that's what we do when we haven't hung out in a while. Oh yes, they fed me too, sort of. Shelley said, "I thought you guys would be here sooner"--because it was close to 9--"so I ate. Quinn, anything we have here is up for grabs. If you want it, eat it." Mmmmmm. That's dangerous when someone says that. I found the leftover fixings for tacos and went apeshit, while drinking rum.

Exciting evening, yes? Wait! It gets even more exciting! We played drunken Scrabble!! My god, we were hedonistic bastards in the middle of nowhere, spelling such nasty things such as "lux" and "forlorn" and "halo" and even "tits" when we got good and drunk, our lesser selves--our mean egos--imagining all sorts of crazy things we could do while out in the country; such as building a bonfire and dancing around it naked, while whooping and hollering, shooting our guns, baying at the moon, pouring wine on ourselves . . . but, yeah, we just played Scrabble. It was cold outside, and even a man's nipples may have frozen and fallen off if he stayed outside long enough. But, hey! I enjoy Scrabble!

I forgot to mention that, during our game of Scrabble, Bailey and Phoenix got into a fight and scared the piss out of us. (Fine. You caught me. But I did have to pee at the time.) Those two bitches snarled and growled and wouldn't give it up for a few minutes--until I finally said to hell with it and smacked the both of them and growled and yelled back at them. Dogs never know what to think when someone does that. Maybe they think, "That's one crazy two-legs. What the fuck? Run for cover!" I was pretty mad. And you'd be mad, too. As a matter of fact, you'd be really pissed off if you were stuck with a Z, Q, V, and an X while playing Scrabble, and then two dumb bitches get into an argument over which part of the carpet they want to claim as their own. It just puts you in a bad mood. Fuckin' Scrabble!

So that was Friday night.

Next post will be about last Saturday.

Oh yeah. I lost the game by four points. I blame the damn dogs who broke my concentration. I maintain that, given enough time of uninterrupted thought, I would've thought of something to spell with those damn letters.