Hey Jamie’s Internets!

I’m Crissy from Crissy’s Page and I’m the Queen of Fucking Everything but I’m also your guest blogger today.

Woo. Hoo.

Since Jamie seems to be just a little bit of a dog person, I thought I’d write a dog story for alla y’all so you don’t miss her like her doggie misses her.

Here goes…

When I graduated from High School I got a Greyhound as a graduation present because I wanted one very, very badly. My parents finally let me get one because they knew I’d be moving out soon and taking the doggie to college with me. So that’s what I did, and let me tell you this right now Internet. Greyhounds are not good apartment dogs. At. ALL. They need wide open spaces with plenty of furry woodland creatures to harass. And you don’t get that in an apartment in the city. All you get is an occasional bird and birds are fucking fast!

Faster than greyhounds.

We lived on the third floor of an old Victorian tenement house. There was a narrow spiral staircase leading to our apartment and it just freaked Tashi right out. That was her name. Tashi. I called her T-Rex and Trexie and Sexy T-Rexy because I’m really queer like that with my pets, and some people we knew called her Pointed Dog, but we hated those people so they don’t count.

Anyway, she would take those stairs painfully slowly. One. step. at. a. time. until we finally reached the bottom and she would wag her tail in relief that she got down safely. It was not a good time for either of us, believe me. It took us like eleventy hundred minutes just to go out for pees and poops!

One day I was getting dressed for class and my fiance, who I was shacked up with at the time, and who is now my husband, had just left for work. Being a typical b-o-y he did not close the door all the way. Well who do you think decided to take those fucking stairs like her ass was on fire?

Yup.

I heard THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP! as she made her escape. I dropped my mascara in the sink and ran to the stairs to see only her tail trailing behind her as she shot out that door and down those steps faster than an astronaut riding a Crack Rocket.

I have no idea what that means. It sounded good though, didn’t it?

Anyway, she was FAST and I went running after her and tried in vain to catch her. When I finally reached the bottom of the stairs, she was running around the driveway and was all like “Weeeeee!!!! this is great!” and I was all “Tashi Ssssstoooooppp!” when I noticed that cars were slowing down and one guy even pulled over.

Huh.

“The dog is just in the driveway. These people are so nice! They’re stopping just in case she runs into the street. Oh my god! I love them. What nice dog loving people they are!” I thought to myself.
And then I felt the draft.

And I looked down.

My fucking shirt was open!!!

I was running around my front yard on a very busy street with my jumblies out. I had a bra on, but still. The girls were largely uncovered and my shirt was just a flappin’ in the breeze!

“Tashi, you fucking fuck” I grumbled as I grabbed the front of my shirt and held it closed while attempting to catch the god damned dog with only one hand.

Eventually, she allowed me to catch her and let me tell you Internet. There were no tummy yummies for like a week after that bullshit!

I was pissed. off.

So the moral of the story is:

Never try to make a Greyhound an apartment dog unless you’re willing to flash your goodies to the whole neighborhood.

The end.

Thank you! You guys have been great!
If you’d like to come and worship the Queen some more you should come see me!!!!

I’ve been playing with my Barbies again.