Dirty Devil In The Bed

So, I’m the kind of guy likes to talk about important stuff. You know like the state of the nation, stupid people, matters of the heart and soul, things like that outside of my little Chi world.  But, sometimes the little things need discussing, too. I need to get out the little ass-itching stuff, you know, so I don’t combust, become an ass hole.

I mean, mom says I’m an ass hole to other dogs when we’re out walking, but I prefer to say I’m being preemptive. You never know when you let down your guard if another fella is gonna take advantage of your neighborly manner. Good guys like me get taken for a ride every day and it’s not in the we’re-ridin’-to-the-beach-and-then-to-PetSmart- for-treats kind of ride. So a little h’ordeuvre attitude is just being smart.

Anyway, back to my reason for venting. See, if I want to sleep on the bed with mom, I have to share it with Gussy and the devil. You all know I call Elsa the devil, ‘cause, well, she is; for more elaboration on my reasoning visit Elsa’s page on this site. Her devil status is explained in detail.

Ok, so sharing the bed with Gussy is not too bad once he gets settled. He has a good heart (Elsa has no heart or soul), but sometimes he doesn’t understand “personal space”. Mom says it’s because he’s a genuinely sweet guy. And a little simple, the guy is simple. I have to wonder why the hell it takes him 3 hours just to walk from the bottom of the bed to the top. I wonder if he thinks he’ll get the bends if he goes too fast.

When Elsa gets on the bed, though, you never know what’s gonna go down. Sometimes she likes to screw with me and rub her beelzebub head against me as if she likes me. I don’t fall for that shit, but mom MAKES me let her! WTF, yo? (Learned me some ghetto lingo.) The unholy ALWAYS has ulterior motives. Always.

Other times her true essence comes out and she bitch-swats Gussy out of the blue. Poor dumb bear is just lying there enjoying his unconsciousness and… BAM! BAM! …Satan thumped by Elsa. Then when he wakes, ripped out of his simple slumber, Elsa hisses her breath-of-the- dead in his face. You know, I don’t know why he just doesn’t bite her in the ass. Well, actually I wouldn’t take that chance, either. His teeth could fall out or his face could melt like that freaky dude with the glasses when the ark is opened in Indian Jones.

So, last night we’re all tucked in bed, sleeping soundly. I got my spot behind mom’s legs and for once she’s not flopping around and fidgeting. She bumps me once in a while, she’s dreaming of spiders or running from vampires and sometimes gets a little twitchy. Anyway, so I’m a cozy Chi, dreaming of running like the wind down the beach chasing seagulls, when I’m rudely pulled back into consciousness by the bed shaking…why is the hell bed shaking?

I look up and see Elsa with her Lucifer leg up in the air, like she’s doing yoga, and her head in her stinky parts, furiously cleaning herself!  What the hell did she have going on down there that she’s moving the bed like that? The bed was shaking like monkeys were jumping rope on it.

I was perturbed, you know, so I got up and went to my bed. But she woke mom, too, and mom has no other bed to go to.  First mom whispered for Elsa to stop – yeah right. She just kept licking and sucking. Eeww – makes me nauseous to think about it. Anyway, so then mom tries shaking Elsa. Nope. She keeps going. Next, mom tried to pet her. Well, that works for the 2 seconds she pet her, then the serpent was right back cleaning its hell hole.

Then I hear mom tell Elsa she smells like shit. Well, duh! The devil doesn’t smell like daisies. By then mom had had enough and actually shoved her off the bed. Woot! Elsa hit the floor on all fours with an angry, wicked screech.  But then, then Elsa comes back 3 minutes later. Back up on the bed…and continues her devil deep cleaning! The nerve, you know? The diablo cares not.

Now, mom was really irritated and with damn good reason. That shit-smelling, bed-shaking furry malevolence had no regard for the other sleeping members of family or the fact that mom has to get up early to earn money to buy her evil ass stinky cat food. Selfish.

Mom shoved her off once more and it worked, but I was worried. You can’t get too bossy with the hell dweller. I was worried she would try to eat mom while she slept. She’d start with her larynx so mom couldn’t cry for help. Personally, I think mom should spray her with holy water and set her on fire. Just in case.

 

 

Advertisements

About Angie Longacre


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: