Archives for posts with tag: Drinking

It’s nice that dogs let you know when they need to go out, and when they want attention and even when they want to play. The part that gets me about it though is when she wakes me up at three or four a.m. just staring at me poking me in the face. This gets me thinking…about bears.

If I were a bear and I had some little jerk poking around in my cave and waking me up after I been asleep for 2 months and I hadn’t eaten I would just maul the hell out of that thing. I would tear it to shreds then wear those shreds like some horrible vintage tattered dress made of man skin or some kind of Jana Sterbak design.

Not only would I maul them but I would truly enjoy it. I was never really that afraid of bears cause I always thought to myself:

‘I’m not going spelunking so I’m safe’
or
‘I probably don’t taste as good as a fresh salmon anyhow’

But bears are the the reason I stopped dating a girl. What I saw as her irrational fear of bears just made no sense to me. It was an obstacle I couldn’t get around. Walking drunk in the woods at night or along cliffs I always thought that the last thing you need to worry about is bears. She would shout and cry, hootin and hollerin ‘I sure hope there aren’t any bears around’ and I would yell ‘I just want to see some goddamn bears, would you just shut your damn trap for 10 minutes’.

Never got to see any bears in Banff or Vancouver Island, did try and fight an elk. Poor decision making.
Next girl I dated, took her to a dumpyard. We watched the bears. When that hulk of an animal started lumbering towards us for getting too close and we screamed and ran to the car I thought maybe the other one was smarter but fuck bears are cool.

All this to say that when that dog wakes me up I think about eating it, or at least just punching it in its tiny adorable nose, so here is a picture of it staring at me at night:

And another one cause I haven’t drawn one for a few days:


Protest as we do about not becoming one of those dog people, the type that refer to you by your dog’s name, we are not at that point yet. I say yet because I go to find a picture on my dear lady’s phone and find that the breakdown of content is the following:

80% Dog
10% Me
10% Scenery (flowers, trees, that kind of thing)

Now that part is not all that strange. She is incredibly photogenic, the dog. The breakdown reminded me of another time that I was at a loss for words. As is the usual for my memorable occasions (that do not occur within my own house) I was in a nearby bar. Not the nicest bar by any means but also not one that I worry about getting shanked, or that appear to be having an awards supper for homeless including a shrimp ring.

So while at the bar I strike up a conversation with a man. Construction worker. We get talking, I tell him I used to work construction, but that is about all the chit chat I have for him. He tells me about his life, family and whatnot, but when he pulls out his phone to show me pictures he skips over any of his family or anything else and goes straight to photos of the dump truck he drives. The photos are followed up with way too much talk about his driving the dump truck.

This is what I worry might happen to my lady or I if i am not careful. No one wants to be that guy.

So here is a drawing of the dog laying around like a little baby princess: