Meant to post this a while ago. A third e-mail in the saga of my friend’s contentious relationship with her parents’ dog Milo in NJ.
to: Becky, Natalie
date: Fri, Dec 18, 2009 at 2:14 AM
subject: Your Somewhat Irregular Horror Story Testimonial
First off, I’d like to apologize for not keeping you as updated as I previously planned. Grad school is eating my life. No, no, it’s not because Mr. Asshole has been good. That would be a Christmas Miracle (and/or Hanukkah because let’s face it, we may need 2 holidays to pull that off). So let us revisit our unhappy memories for another episode of Milo’s Unforgivable Acts.
Sir Jerkus has had no let up of his reign of terror over the towels. I think Mom has officially no good hand cloths left where the corners are still there. I don’t know what it is about those corners but I guess eating the rest of the hand towel would just be too much. Always looking for something new and daring to try, Milo decided its now time to move onto bigger and better things: let’s try the big towel. So Milo had a Feast De Mom’s Red Towel and tore that puppy to shreds. I was almost tempted to capture the aftermath and send it to you. Imagine little red strings that was once your bath towel strewn about the room in a Mardi Gras festive manner. When I saw it, I laughed for 3 reasons:
1. It’s not my towel
2. It’s not in my room
3. It’s not my problem
Mom has since stopped buying expensive comfy towels and goes for the 2.99 10 pack at WalMart. Oh and to add insult to injury, he leaves Mom a present the next morning and promptly voms breakfast and towel remnants on her only carpet.
Lately we have gotten into the unfortunate habit of waking Shyvonne up while she is napping. Incessantly scratching at the door is not appreciated and the behavior will be corrected because Shyvonne is not a happy camper when woken up prematurely. And that’s all I have to say about that.
So Le Grand Turkey Nabber has also another food to add on his list. I came home from my last exam, forgetting there was a scone in my bag and during my nap, he thought it would be a grand idea to empty the contents of my bag and find said baked good. He then eats the whole thing, paper included. Maybe that’s why we didnt wake me from my nap.
Last but certainly not the least, it comes w/ great sadness and a heavy heart that I must announce the passing of my black Old Navy flip flops that were only worn for a short summer when I get at least 2 summers out of them. The perpetrator had a grand total of 40 mins to commit this heinous act and wasted no time in doing so. He also committed a random hate act against a tissue box but that comes at no surprise. No, we went to Super Spiteful Level Defcon 5 when we ate the thongs of the flip flops. There was nothing that could have been done to save them and were pronounced dead at the scene. He’s lucky they’re 2.50. The jury, judge, and the universe found the murderer guilty and sentenced him to 30mins outside in 30 degree weather, and I didn’t even feel bad about it (I wanted to keep him out there longer but then Dad came home and yelled at me. In which case I asked him where his loyalties lie.)
And what does Mom do with all this news? Laughs and says MILO! but in a non-serious tone. (Except for the Towel Crisis 2k9 – Milo did receive the silent treatment and was regulated to the downstairs couch.)
He. Farts. So. Much. And I will not divulge anymore into that.
He also snores like an 80 year old 200lbs man. I can’t tell you who’s worse: him or my Dad.
Perhaps next time I’ll add photos of the offending acts that is if I can stay calm enough and am not running around trying to beat his ass.
Well that’s all that we have time for today. Join us next time, same bat time, same bat channel.