i don't need anything today...

except for the stupid-ass tree guys to make it back to our yard and get these stupid-ass trees cleared out so the stupid-ass fence guy can come out and fix the stupid-ass fence. puppies need to play in that yard, people! but it's reallyreally hard when gigantic trees are in the way of a rowdy game of "puppy tag". it's just not right... not right, i tell you! what do i care that folks in greenwich and/or stamford might still be without power or.. or phone service or... or... cable? or access to their own driveways... or roads... or... oh, um.. heh heh... never mind.

i do, however, need for the freakin' guy next door who plays the freakin' drums to land a freakin' job and stop bangin' on those freakin' drums day in and day out and well into the freakin' night. i mean, i respect his need to practice, i really do. but day in and day out and well into the freaking night? every day? and every night? holy crap. holy mother-of-drum-poundin'-on-my-nerves 'n keepin'-me-from my-mid-mornin'-nap crap. i need for this to stop. and that's all i need.

wait. i think i need something else. i think i need to know how much longer that boy (formerly known and the birthday boy) is gonna wait before he decides to finally open up his pitance of presents. seriously, isn't it weird that 2 whole days after the fact, he's yet to demonstrate even the slightest freaking curiosity? apparently, he does this every year... mommy said he waited over a week once... but, for cryin' out loud, inquiring puppy minds need to know if there's anything delicious in those boxes, and they need to know, now!

along with the ending of the freaking drumming and the opening of the freaking presents, another thing i need, is for mommy to clean up this god-awful mess in our dining room. and by "our dining room", i mean, my people's dining room, a place, i might add, they never use because they have no friends and, therefore, are never hosting dinner parties, but, so what? it's still a shitty mess. tho', cleaning up this shitty mess will mean putting away all the christmas decorations... which is something, apparently, mommy isn't ready to do or doesn't want to do, but ya know what? tough titty said the kitty... i mean, come on!

the last thing i need today, tho' it's hardly the least, is for my mommy to stop shoving her goddam camera in my goddam face. she does this every day. every single goddam day. as you can tell, it's not as though i'm doing anything unusual, like, say, whipping up a fluffy souffle, or painting a portrait of bobo, or, cleaning up the mess in the freaking dining room. no. i'm not doing anything i don't do on, oh, say... every other goddam day. i sit in my favorite chair, i look out the window, i try to take a nap (despite the freakin' drumming going on next-freakin'-door), then, i wake up and look out the window, again. trust me, i know i'm cute, but, drop-dead-cuteness doesn't automatically give mommy the right to stick her goddam camera in my adorable face every second of the day, does it? i mean, am i right or am i right? damn straight i'm right. so, i need for her to stop, and i'd prefer not to bite her toes in order to get her to do it (something about biting the hand/toes of the one who feeds you...)

as you can see, kids, my needs are simple. besides the fact that i'd like for the tree guys to get out here and clear out the downed trees in our yard so the fence can be repaired, all i really need, in order to be a happy little puppy-girl (for now), is 1) for the freakin' drummer-boy next door to get a freakin' job, 2) to find out once and for all what's in the birthday boy's birthday boxes, 3) get mommy to clean up all that shit in the dining room, and 4) convince mommy to keep her goddam camera out of my goddam face for more than five goddam minutes without resorting to a good toe biting. and that, as they say, is all. that's my entire list of "needs" for today, 24 january, 2006. trust me on this, i don't need one thing more. wait... did i just hear someone mention greenies?

"On the other hand, you have different fingers." ~ Steven Wright