My dog is a felon (or Exaggeration is the only language I speak.)

= Felon.

That's right...Kepi attacked an Officer of the Law (aka a police officer). I'm over this! Running away from home, apparently trying to steal other dogs belongings and now this? How am I supposed to deal? I lie awake at night wondering where I went wrong, when I'm not blaming Joe for it. Well, she can just forget that 'cop-killa" tattoo she wanted so bad! Not anymore little lady, I won't give into this phase your going through! Don't they have support groups for things like this?

Anyway, in different news...Joe has been throwing me under the bus all day long. A small example:

Joe: Do you remember that time you said that if you ever went deaf you would teach Kepi to bark when the phone rang? (evil laughing)

Me: Your a dick.

Something I learned about myself (or Why am I the only one who laughs at my jokes?)

I work part time at a hotel, Holiday Inn to be exact, and well I totally suck at my job. One Saturday night terrible things happened that I couldn't fix and for the most part was able to make them worse, this is why I have so many friends at work, and by friends I mean people that would probably prefer to hit me with their cars. It's pretty bad when at 6 in the morning you call your manager because one of the door locks died and you can't let either of the national guard guys back in their rooms and they have to be at drill in like 30 min. (and thank god she answered because you were totally 5 min away from just setting the dirty laundry on fire and letting all your problems an mistakes get cleasned away kinda like those Salem witches but instead of cleberating afterwards you go to jail) and she tells you to break the glass on the emergency box. Now this actually does make sense but the first place my mind went to was a gigantic box in which Captain Planet was stored and when you broke the glass he and his super awesome green hair fixed everything, including our leaky taps. And although this would explain his 15 year absence, it wasn't so...instead it's a red box with a plexiglass cover and theres a key in it. A key. Awesome emergency box. Anyway, so I take the key and try to let him in his room...it eventually works after looking like a retard trying to open it for 10 min(hardest door to unlock ever) during which I covered my tracks by telling him sorry about myself, the hotel gets tax deductions for hiring mentally handicapped people. Then awesome...door is open...but then the key woun't come out of the door...10 more min of explaining to him the benefits of hiring mentally handicapped people. And while he gave it a shot, I fumbled with my lighter in my pocket wondering how flamable the carpet is. No luck...it's stuck in there like Excaliber in the Stone, which Joe reminded me that only someone prue of heart could pull out the sword. We are so fucked. So yeah, awesome.
Then we went to Smiley's, at which point I'm sure Joe questioned why he ever takes me out in public. I was so freaking tired...but passed just yawning alot...to the point at which I thought I was the most funniest person I've ever met, ever. Joe did not agree. I was so tired I begged Joe to get me the best lawn gnome ever, he didn't, I thought about knocking him out with an old kerosene heater the guy was also selling and getting it anyway, but really, that'd just be ridiculous. But that isn't a good judge of how tired I was cause I'm totally going back for it. I'm gonna name him Gangly and he will eventually protect a garden of dead flowers in front of the house I'll hopefully have soon. I kill plants just by being around them. Other funny stuff happened including haggling with an old man about an armful of My Little Ponies, a guy walking around with a hammer in his back pocket (well, it was fucking hilarious at the time) and...I can't remember the rest, I was really tired. Smiley's rules. And so do I.

Entering the age (or Why I feel like others should here what I have to say)

So, it's done. I have a blog, something I've said I'd never do. Well, I didn't acutally say it, I thought it while I scorned at the idea. But I think of some awesome things sometimes, and usually make myself laugh on a daily basis (which probably means I sould keep a journal, not a blog, but whatev), and if it's not me, the people around me make me laugh. So I think it's just time...awesome. And blogging on myspace is just kinda a joke, but that material was gold and I'm totally going to repost it here and I swear to god if any of you judge me...