Nothing in my home can be simple or “normal”. I have a fireplace, but I don’t like making fires, so instead of logs, there are several pillar candles in it. If I want the ambiance of fire, I could just light the candles instead–less muss and fuss. That is if I hadn’t decided to move my entertainment center and television in front of it. Now the fireplace is virtually unusable. I blame it on the fact that my living room is laid out really strangely. The front door leads right into the living room, which leads right into the dining area and the kitchen is just to the right of that. I don’t even have one full wall to work with that I could set the T.V. or even a couch along.
My refrigerator started making odd noises over two years ago–before JoJo (the missus) even moved in with me. At first, we decided that it was probably a death-rattle and that we’d need to replace the refrigerator quickly. However, that kind of went by the wayside, and it kept making noise but went on working. The temperature in the fridge was set lower than was necessary, so I changed the setting, and it stopped making weird noises. Personally, I believe that it was briefly possessed by a demon (Kitchen Goblin at best) but once said demon/goblin realized we kept no good food in the house, it exorcised itself and moved to a neighbor’s house or something.
And good riddance, I say. JoJo and I don’t need another mouth to feed in this house. The food bill is already high enough and I can’t even imagine how much it would cost to feed Zuul’s huge Satan’s-Bulldog looking ass.
Right before JoJo moved in, the latch on the front gate came off, and I never got around to putting a new one on. I just propped open the gate and left it open–’cause who the Hell is being kept out by a three-foot-tall white picket fence anyway? However, once we got Jolene, it was obvious that we couldn’t just leave the gate open. We live on a very busy road and we didn’t want Jolene’s water-headed self to run out into traffic anytime we let her out to make peeps and poops. She seems smart enough to not do it–but our cat Herman wasn’t. God rest his water-headed soul. Honestly, I suspect that a street cat was jealous of Herman’s spoiled-rotten ass and decided to take him out. It was probably a semi…but there was just something fishy about the whole thing.
Speaking of pets…my dog is the Candyman. That’s another thing in my life that is not “normal”. Recently, I discovered that Jolene does not respond to her name. Well, not really. If you make kissy noises, or weird baby-goo-goo talk to her, she comes running. If you grab her leash, she’s running over and in “harness-applying” position quicker than you can blink. If you go near her 40 lb bag of dog food or get in the cabinet where her treats are located, she is suddenly sitting at your feet at attention. She puts on a street-urchin persona in these moments that makes you think that she’s never sure where her next meal may be coming from. If she could actually sing a rousing rendition of “Food, Glorious Food”, it might be cute. But as things stand, it ain’t. Besides, Jolene obviously isn’t British. She’s not well-behaved enough. And she just looked confused when I asked if she preferred Earl Grey or Darjeeling…so, the evidence speaks for itself. She does enjoy toast with jam–but I once watched her lay and lick the carpet for five minutes straight…so I don’t really think we can trust that she has discerning taste.
Anyhoozles…oh, yes, Candyman. Jolene is the Candyman. She may not answer to her name, but she’ll answer to it if you say it multiple times. Now, admittedly, this is really mine and JoJo’s fault. From the day we picked her up from Mark the drug dealer (allegedly) we have been in the habit of singing “Jolene” by Dolly Parton to her at least fifty-seven times a day. So…unless she hears her name repeated four times to a certain melody, she isn’t sure that you’re actually speaking to her. In fact, while I was writing this paragraph, I absentmindedly started singing the song and her tail start wagging, knocking against the wall beside her bed. Full disclosure: I considered doing a video of this, but that would mean you’d all have to listen to me sing. That’s in no one’s best interest. So I chose not to do it. You’re welcome.
So, like most of my posts, I have no idea how to finish out this polluted-stream-of-conscious rant. However, if we get Jolene a hook and a fur-trimmed coat, and the ability to play nicely with bees, she could be the star of a horror-slasher film. Or, if we can get her a fright wig, a black-and-white striped suit, and the ability to answer to her name being said three times, she could be Beetlejuice in a remake.
Either way, the movie would be a flop. I mean–who’s going to be frightened by this face:
Until next time…