Maybe it's karmic retribution for constantly giving my wife shit.

Wifezilla: Hang on, let me let the dog in.

Taco: Noooo!

Wifezilla: What's your problem?

Taco: Now I'll have to share you with him!

Wifezilla: But it's cold outside!

Taco: So? I don't see you letting my cat in!

Wifezilla: She's inside.

Taco: Yeah? Where?

Wifezilla: I'm looking!

Taco: Pffft!

Wifezilla: I'm sure she's inside!

Taco: It's cold outside and all you care about is your dog!

Wifezilla: I found her!

Taco: Yeah? Where?

Wifezilla: She's sleeping in [Kidzookie]'s bed!

Taco: What the hell's she doing there?

Wifezilla: What do you mean?

Taco: That's where Twinkie sleeps!

Wifezilla: ...

Taco: ...and now I'm sad.

Rotten days suck...

... and somehow, they seem to suck worse when your friends are having them.

Wish I could make it better for you guys. :/

Kitty Go Boom

Every morning, I get up, lumber downstairs, and fix a pot of coffee to get my heart started. The cat waits by the back door every day, and when I make my way past the door I stop and let her in. It's a good routine.

The first time I speak to the cat each day, she automatically arches her back and staggers to the right as if to rub against my leg in that catly way they do, even if I'm nowhere near her at the time.

Yesterday I realized that if I time it right, I can make her walk into things.

My powers are amazing. And stupid.

Those Wacky Trash Collectors

I really love those guys. Really.

I have problems with them all the damn time. If I screw up the tiniest little thing, they won't collect my garbage. They seem to particularly love the old "bin was within five feet of another bin" routine. I live at the end of a cul de sac. Our options are put it within five feet of another bin or put it in the middle of the driveway. We space the damn things out as far as we can. Give us a damn break.

Today is my favorite, though. Today, they collected the whole bin. The guy operating the big claw on the side of the truck that grabs the trash can and upends it into the top of the garbage truck must have been excited today, because he dumped my whole bin into the thing. One of the guys in the truck had to come up to the house to say, "Uh, sorry."

This shit only ever happens to me.

Compromise

TACO: You really ought to read the book I'm reading now.

WIFEZILLA: The nymphos one?

TACO: Yeah. I'd offer to read it aloud but, you know, the kids.

WIFEZILLA: Well, if you ever went to bed at the same time as me.

TACO: I'd go to bed at the same time for a blow job. Every time. I went to bed with you.

WIFEZILLA: Every time?

TACO: Yeah.

WIFEZILLA: I'll meet you half way.

TACO: Deal.

WIFEZILLA: Okay.

TACO: I'd like the second half, please.

WIFEZILLA: ...

TACO: *laughs*

WIFEZILLA: This is going on your blog, isn't it?

Fact is, I'm wonderful. Except for that one thing.

KIDZOOKIE: What are you doing?

TACO: Annoying your mom.

KIDZOOKIE: How?

TACO: Breathing.

KIDZOOKIE: Why does that annoy her?

TACO: She wants me dead.

KIDZOOKIE: No she doesn't!

TACO: Sure, she does.

KIDZOOKIE: Nuh uh! Why did she marry you, then?

TACO: Well, son, your mom makes bad decisions.

KIDZOOKIE: You're teasing me!

TACO: Yeah, I am. Fact of the matter is, I'm wonderful.

KIDZOOKIE: You're not wonderful. You talk about dookie!

Dear North Carolina...

Thank you for getting rid of Elizabeth Dole. I feel bad, though. I didn't get you anything.

Love,
-Taco