So Rita and I were watching the season finale of six feet under, and were deeply effected by the gay violence. And that is probably what set the mood for the weirdness that was to follow. (But is is a GREAT show for anyone who does not watch it.)
We were getting ready to go to bed and I was rounding up the dogs, messing around with the million baby gates we have around the house, banging, making noise, yelling at the dogs.. and then from the bathroom I hear Rita say "what's that?", in her playing voice. So I walk into the bathroom and see her looking at me, and she says, "you weren't just outside were you?".
I said no, didn't she hear me with the dogs?, when I asked her why, she said that there was just a hand in the bathroom window. Now to fully set this up, there is no screen in the window and the toilet is RIGHT underneath it. She said that she touched it when she said whats that.. and then her brain caught up with her eyes and she slammed the window down.. unfortunately not on the hand.
We had Watervliets finest here at 1am to check out the situation and he said that he saw a group of teens walking up the block and he was going to question them.. we haven't heard anything..
So after a sleepless night, Rita is late for work and we hear a knock at the front door, and look at each other, she looks out the front window and it is animal control. It seems that Orlando, our oldest bichon, who was not wearing a collar, decided to take a walk down the middle of a few streets, the animal control guy said that he knew Orlando belonged here. I'm not sure if that is good or bad.. But I guess a pack of 5 Bichons are hard to miss. The white blur..
Anyway, I am off to the New Jersey shore, and of course it is that time of the month. So if you happen to be watching the news and see a bald dyke limping around on one leg after a shark bite, that is me. I am only hoping it is not my leg with the tattoo, because I really like my tattoo..
g'night all.