Happy Sunday! It’s a two day weekend for me! I know, I know. It’s a three-day weekend for most of you. But since I worked yesterday, I have a TWO day weekend. Which is JUST as exciting for me as your three-day weekends. I promise. Because what would I even DO with a three day weekend? All that decadence. I would just fall apart and die. OK, fine. I would probably have the best time ever with it. But whatever, I worked yesterday, it’s done now.
Also, side note, work was the worst, and I totally misbehaved and probably will be fired for my misbehavior. I know. I KNOW. OK, well, wait, I didn’t misbehave, per se. I just refused to kiss ass like I was obviously being pushed to do, because I don’t know how to do that and refuse to try. Listen, there’s only so much being pushed around I can take? And I can take it for a little while (especially when it’s coming from someone in authority who can easily tell you to leave and not come back because I really need the job.) But when it keeps happening and keeps happening and KEEPS EFFING HAPPENING sometimes you say (or, I guess, send a memo,if you want to be proper and tell it how it really happened) to the person using grown-up language and semicolons and a vaguely supercilious air, explaining why you are right and they are wrong? Well, you might well not have a job the following week. It’s happened before over there for less egregious offenses. Would it have been worth it? Would it really? Well, overall, probably not, but in the moment – OH HELL YES BABY. I know, I know. Amy, you need anger managementttttt. Probably. Probably I do. But I think there are worse things in the world than not allowing people to walk all over you like you are a dirty disgusting dishrag. However! If I lose my second job and have to go live in a cardboard box down by the river, I hope you will all enjoy my new blog which will be entitled “Please Don’t Steal my Grocery Cart of Cherished Personal Items, Homeless Lady Wearing a Stockpot as a Stylish Hat!” It will be hard to be filled with righteous anger when I am cooking cans of dented baked beans over fires burning in abandoned oil barrels. I’ll still DO it, it just won’t be as EASY.
Anyway, SO listen, I got SHIT to DO today, yo. I’m going to a PLAY and I’m watching a MOVIE (ok, FINE, it’s on DVD, but it still counts) and then watching Game of Thrones and RELAXING. It is going to be great. Then I can stay up late as I want (two nights in a ROW! It’s like a whole ADVENTURE!) and do it ALL OVER AGAIN MONDAY. Ok, fine, I’ll also do a ton of writing and such, but in my own house without being stuck behind a desk. So that’s a win. So this is not going to be the longest thing you have ever read. Are you disappointed? Nah. It’s a nice day. You could go frolic. You know you could.
OK, so what’s going on in the world? Other than I might totally have lost my cool yesterday at work, oops?
In Dubuque, Iowa (motto: “Showing the Spirit”), a man tried to do what a lot of us do on a Sunday night (what? don’t you all do this on a Sunday night?) and go out for a drink with some family members. But – GASP! – the totally uptight jerks at the bar! They wouldn’t let him stay! They didn’t like his family members, you see. Because his FAMILY MEMBERS were a ZEBRA and a MACAW. Listen, he was just trying to show the SPIRIT, Dubuque. Or the spiritS. Whatever. Why you tryin’ to waste his flava, yo?
The bartender of the Dog House Lounge (heh) sent Jerald Reiter, his zebra, and his macaw packing, so Jerald and his “family” members (no, seriously, he and his girlfriend consider them part of their family, which, whatever, Dumbcat’s part of mine, I get it) (SECOND SIDE NOTE if I write “family” members like that, do you think of the Manson family? I do) got back in the car, but the other barflies were all “DUDE THERE ARE ZEBRAS AND MACAWS AND SHIT IN THE PARKING LOT CHECK IT!!!” so they went out and took the following photo:
…and then posted it right to Facebook. You know. As one does. (No, listen, I’m serious, AS ONE DOES. Don’t your friends do this? Mine do. They take photos of EVERYTHING and post them to Facebook. Like, “here’s the turkey I had for dinner” and “here’s the screen of my video game I’m playing on Wii” and “here’s a flower that kind of looks like a leaf.” And you know, that’s fine, but some people have mad photography skillz, you know? Like looking at anything they photograph is a joy? And some people have NONE. Like me. None. I don’t have that kind of brain. If the photo I take looks like what I want it to and my thumb’s not in it, I’m happy. So I feel like whoever took this photo is probably one of my Facebook friends, except I don’t think I have any in Iowa.)
But THEN one of the barflies called the COPS and the police showed up and arrested Jerald. And listen, you know how I like beards, right? And also animals? Well, so you’d think this guy has Amy written ALL OVER HIM.
But you would be wrong, because he looks like a dead person. Also, tank top much?
Also, listen, the bar is not the only place Jerald and his lady-friend Vickey Teter bring their interspecies friends. NO NO NO CHARLIE.
“We take them for car rides and they go and they get the mail with me. They are a big part of the family,” Teter said.
To get the MAIL! Listen, I get the mail EVERY DAY but I never ever bring EXOTIC ANIMALS. I really need to start doing that. I want to bring exotic animals with me to get the mail!
Like, right now, there’s some mystery package waiting for me locked up in the office over here that I can’t have until this afternoon and I’m totally pissy about that because WHAT COULD IT BE? But listen, if I brought like a grizzly bear or maybe a Tasmanian devil with me to get my mail, I would get some RESPECT, dammit. I could get my packages WHENEVER I WANTED. It would be ALLOWED. Who would mess with the chick with a Tasmanian devil?
No one. No one would. (SIDE NOTE: what do you think my exciting top-secret package is, you guys? I totally haven’t ordered anything. All I can think of is I think I have a book coming that I’m reviewing. So it could be that. But I like to imagine that it’s something even MORE exciting. Like maybe a pony! Do you think it’s a pony? Or a new pair of sneakers? I totally need a new pair of sneakers. OOH OR NAIL POLISH? What if it was nail polish I would just die. Oh, shit, wait! Someone that I will not mention because I want to surprise everyone when it arrives said they were mailing me something. Maybe it’s that! I AM SO EXCITED RIGHT NOW! It’s like Christmas with the anticipation!)
OK, so the article says nothing about whether or not it’s legal in Iowa to own exotic pets like zebras. I like zebras but I don’t know if they’re a housepet. I mean, they’re like little horses. Little horses aren’t housepets. Also, wouldn’t it poo all over? I mean, just to be practical, here. I would think it would. Also, wouldn’t it be kicky? I’ve seen zebras at zoos and they seemed to kick and such. Like little high-strung horses. Pretty? Yes. Kicky, also yes.
Listen, I love Dumbcat but even HE sometimes is the worst housepet. I had this whole plan to make you all a video of him begging for treats, which is adorable, but instead of doing it, he vomited on my sock. My foot was in my sock at the time. So I had to go all “EW EW EW” and kind of mince over to the paper towels and clean that up and GROSS, Dumbcat. Also, the video was a bust. I promise a cuter, less vomitorious Dumbcat video in the near future. (Don’t worry, he’s fine. Sometimes he just gets pukey. He’s a cat. It’s what they do. Also, I think he was having some stage fright or something. He’s so not ready for his closeup, Mr. DeMille.)
OK. So, we have learned that YES, you can have pet zebras and macaws but NO, you can not bring them to bars called the Dog House Lounge or you will be arrested and also your macaw and zebra will end up on Facebook. This is good stuff and good to know because you never know when a situation like this might come up, you know? You never know when you might become a zebra and macaw-momma or daddy. YOU NEVER KNOW.
Happy Sunday, beautiful people! Enjoy the middle of your long weekend! YAY FOR TIME OFF!!!
(Als0, psst, happy 40th anniversary, Mom and Dad. Try not to kill each other on the road trip you’re currently on. Love you both! Thanks for getting married and having kids and junk, that worked out well for all involved!)