It's another round of February Stars while I continue sitting on my ass and only doing a bit of an intro. It's a good gig. Anyway, rather than link back to the old February Stars every post. I've added a link on my sidebar there so those who have missed all the fun can click and go back, or those who have enjoyed the previous posts can go back and relive.
I've also added a poll for the chorus of our Drunken Blogger project. For those still wanting to contribute, you can click the link just under the banner and go back to the post and add your two cents.
On to today's guest post. The Valentines day post. And looking through my blogroll, I though Stephanie was the most qualified to give us a post about all things love. She's written quite a bit lately about her online dating experiences (some were very funny, some were less funny but much nicer for her)
And she hasn't let me down, by taking us through a journey of true love...
Love; Do you really know what real love is?
I wholly know what love is all about and no, I’m not being a braggart. And, with my wealth of knowledge on all things involving love I shall share a sweet, sweet tale of such.
See, Mom has been convinced for the longest I’m damaged goods, afraid of commitment. See, that’s where the old lady is wrong. Granted, I’ve never had some great romance, well a great reciprocated romance, but let’s not get technical because I do believe a one sided romance counts for something. Yes? C’mon, really, I’ve had some major highs and lows, yet remained entirely devoted to many a man who seemed to not be…well we’re not getting technical, right?
Okay, so love is my specialty, which has been confirmed through the relationship with my charming, little darling, Timmy. Timmy is no man, child or relative. Timmy is a furry, four legged stink bomb of a canis lupus familiaris, or dog for short.
Now hold on one hot second. Before you get weird-ed out thinking this going to be some sort of peanut butter party, bestiality (another one with the bestiality.. first Daisy and maybe OmegaRadium and now this. Why must you people turn my blog into a home of animal sex stories? - ScoMan) sorta post, hold up. I’m talking about my beloved pet here, you sick son of a bitch! My feelings for young Timmy are innocent, pure, and completely unconditional.
Case in point:
Fast asleep, snuggled under the covers with my then boyfriend, I abruptly awoke to a strange, yet familiar scent in the air.
*sniff, sniff*
*sniff, sniff*
The distinct smell in the air confused me; did the boyfriend fart…did I fart…did the dog fart…what the hell!? I found the smell to be too strong to bear.
Although completely and utterly atypical, I decided and said ever so quietly to myself, “Ah, the dog must’ve shit in the living room”.
As I unwillingly peeled back covers to start my investigation, I noticed the texture and temperature of my comforter had changed. See, I’d just put my hand in dog shit, steaming hot, mushy dog diarrhea to be exact.
“Goddamnfuckingshit!” passed through my sleepy, suddenly irritated head, “Timmy shit the bed!”
Mind you, my apartment did not have washing and drying capabilities, so what else was I to do other than wake the then boyfriend, advising him to next make any sudden moves. Of course, with a weak stomach, he was of no help.
Considering it was the middle of the night, I was tired and all laundry mats were closed, I didn’t want to take a shit crusted comforter to the laundry mat 12 plus hours later when I got out of work at 5PM which would be followed by a two hour night class, I removed the comforter, carrying it into the bathtub for a good warm rinse.
Not once did I yell, scream, hit or threaten to disown my Timmy. No man or animal is exempt from a case of the bubble guts. During this hard time, my feeling didn’t falter. I exhibited nothing, but patience, acceptance and understanding, and that, my friends, is love.
I wholly know what love is all about and no, I’m not being a braggart. And, with my wealth of knowledge on all things involving love I shall share a sweet, sweet tale of such.
See, Mom has been convinced for the longest I’m damaged goods, afraid of commitment. See, that’s where the old lady is wrong. Granted, I’ve never had some great romance, well a great reciprocated romance, but let’s not get technical because I do believe a one sided romance counts for something. Yes? C’mon, really, I’ve had some major highs and lows, yet remained entirely devoted to many a man who seemed to not be…well we’re not getting technical, right?
Okay, so love is my specialty, which has been confirmed through the relationship with my charming, little darling, Timmy. Timmy is no man, child or relative. Timmy is a furry, four legged stink bomb of a canis lupus familiaris, or dog for short.
Now hold on one hot second. Before you get weird-ed out thinking this going to be some sort of peanut butter party, bestiality (another one with the bestiality.. first Daisy and maybe OmegaRadium and now this. Why must you people turn my blog into a home of animal sex stories? - ScoMan) sorta post, hold up. I’m talking about my beloved pet here, you sick son of a bitch! My feelings for young Timmy are innocent, pure, and completely unconditional.
Case in point:
Fast asleep, snuggled under the covers with my then boyfriend, I abruptly awoke to a strange, yet familiar scent in the air.
*sniff, sniff*
*sniff, sniff*
The distinct smell in the air confused me; did the boyfriend fart…did I fart…did the dog fart…what the hell!? I found the smell to be too strong to bear.
Although completely and utterly atypical, I decided and said ever so quietly to myself, “Ah, the dog must’ve shit in the living room”.
As I unwillingly peeled back covers to start my investigation, I noticed the texture and temperature of my comforter had changed. See, I’d just put my hand in dog shit, steaming hot, mushy dog diarrhea to be exact.
“Goddamnfuckingshit!” passed through my sleepy, suddenly irritated head, “Timmy shit the bed!”
Mind you, my apartment did not have washing and drying capabilities, so what else was I to do other than wake the then boyfriend, advising him to next make any sudden moves. Of course, with a weak stomach, he was of no help.
Considering it was the middle of the night, I was tired and all laundry mats were closed, I didn’t want to take a shit crusted comforter to the laundry mat 12 plus hours later when I got out of work at 5PM which would be followed by a two hour night class, I removed the comforter, carrying it into the bathtub for a good warm rinse.
Not once did I yell, scream, hit or threaten to disown my Timmy. No man or animal is exempt from a case of the bubble guts. During this hard time, my feeling didn’t falter. I exhibited nothing, but patience, acceptance and understanding, and that, my friends, is love.
Posts
Puppy love is the best. True love indeed.
ReplyDeleteRosemary and Reflections
I may be single, but I have a dog who loves me unconditionally. Plus, his birthday is Valentine's Day, so even more cause for celebration! Great psot!
ReplyDelete@Nessa: but wait! I've recently moved home and the dog has ditched me for my mom! :/
ReplyDelete@Alissa: No way!! Timmy's birthday was yesterday, the 13th. We have a connection.
I'd rather have a dog that shits the bed than a boyfriend/husband who does.
ReplyDeleteI saw your dog, his eyes were screaming: H.e.l.p. m.e.! while you were having a cute smile pretending he loves you like in that Stephen King's Mysery, but the only difference is that Timmy isn't a writer.
ReplyDeleteSorry for revealing the truth, Steph. :P
Steph and Timmy sitting in a tree......
ReplyDeleteLOL! Actually I think there is great truth here. I've been married twice but the longest relationship I've had where they didn't get on my nerves or make me mad or use and abuse me was with with my girl Salem. Black lab. :-)
Yep. That is most certainly true love. But I'm betting if the boyfriend had done that, he would have been out on the street!!!
ReplyDeleteAwwww. hahahaha. But you gotta love Timmy. Stephy, I really Laughed Out Loud when you were trying to figure out if your boyfriend farted, if you farted or if the dog farted. And ummm... the description of Timmy's diarhhea was a bit much. lols...hahahahaha
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading my love story and thank you, Scott, for having me :)
ReplyDeleteHope you all had a Happy Valentine's Day, or at least a half way decent Sunday!
Steph
"No man or animal is exempt from a case of the bubble guts." I've never thought of it like that, but I guess even dogs can eat something their tummys don't like. Great story!
ReplyDelete