i love living in the city part 34532

so last night i was in the back yard with the boy admiring that the grass seed that we toiled over two weeks ago was FINALly seeding!!

yay. grass.

so anyway we were out there gazing and amazing at the sprouts and the boydog was with us and i've been trying (mostly unsuccesfully) to keep him out of the flower beds.

(as an aside, my boydog is gay. no, really, he is. he loves his argyle sweaters and can't pass flowers on a walk without stopping to smell and admire them. he runs over and drags his whole body against the flowers or bush or whatever. ya. he's gay. but i'm fine with it.)

so we're in our backyard, which backs up to an alley with a school on the other side of it. it's where the hoodrats hang out. so that they can keep us up all night while they talk about what exactly was THE SHIT that day.



either that or they're there so that my dogs can bark insesantly at them making me look like that little dog lady with little mean yippy dogs.

anywho... boydog goes into the flower bed and the only way i can get either of my dogs, gay or not, to listen to me is if i yell in a very mean and low voice and sound like i will rip their heads off if they do anything like that again. ya, it's a pattern i created and now i hate it because everyone probably thinks i hate my dogs by the way i talk to them. but JEEZ can we just get to the story here?

so boydog is in the flowers and i yell through locked jaw (cuz that's how i sound the meanest)

"g'outta there"

and ok the boy dog looks scared, but too scared to come closer to me which is what has to happen if he's actually going to g'outta there...

and i hear a rustling behind the dumpster in the ally.



i look over and there's this chubby dude in a football jersey zipping up his pants as he emerges from behind the dumpster looking very guilty.

then, hot on his trail comes a chick... wiping her mouth off.

so drew and i look at each other, realize what just happened and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

while boydog pees on my favorite flower (not pictured below.)



the end.