I'm Not Just Into Bullshit

I tell people that I am not a dog person. This comes up often because my girlfriend has a dog which is a Bishon Friez or something (I'm not french, and I'm not a dog person) like that, which is little and white and yippy.

People say to me, "OH, THAT'S NOT FAIR" (typing in caps because that's the kind of thing an idiot would say; the same type of person who doesn't know how to use a caps lock key), or "Oh, how can you not love that face" or some equally dumb shit. Tonight, in a moment of clarity, I figured out why I'm not a dog person.

After letting my dog out to take her nightly shit, something which I must attend to, lest it be left in the basement, she refused to do said shit, and returned upstairs to her cage, ready to spend the night in slumber. Or so one might THINK! In fact, I returned to the bedroom, at which point this dog immediately began soft whimpering. What was the cause of this whimpering? Why, she wanted to be let out for her nightly shit which she forgot to do earlier, or did not feel like doing but now feels like. OK. THAT IS FINE DOG. I AM A REASONABLE MAN.

So I go downstairs and let the dog out. She turns around, and waits for me to follow. Ok. I was afraid of the dark once. So I follow. We go downstairs, flip the hell out in the entry way, go down the hall, and out the back door. Then stand on the tile outside the back door and piss on it. Ok, great place to do that. I once saw a girl who was blackout-drunk piss on herself, so sure, if that's the IQ level we're operating at, yes, piss right where you and everyone else who uses that door has to walk. Why not it's just piss right?

So then she comes back inside.

Do you remember that part about me going upstairs and then having to come back downstairs? Ok, well we do that again.

Now I am downstairs in my boxers, letting the dog out again at 11:00 at night. She goes outside, and just stands in her pee on the tile outside the door. So this is why we're out here again apparently.

So then I open the door, as is my way, and use a puppy voice, because I am only a shell of a man, and try to entice the dog to take a shit in the yard. Again, this is because I am only a shell of a man. After a short period of convincing, she then wanders off in to the shadows.

Then she proceeds to take a 10-minute walking shit through the entire yard. Like... fuck you Dave. Look at what I've stored up for over here... and over here... and over here... and here's some more what do you know...

So I wait at the door, while this dog just takes a cross-country shit, and I wait because I have to lock her back up because otherwise well maybe she'll just decide to cross-country that shit up into the house and guess what OH YOU GUESSED IT homey don't play that.

So look. That one incident is enough for me to not be a dog person. If a cat ever did that shit to me, well guess what I wouldn't be a cat person either, but guess what. They didn't. I'm not a gerbil person because I once saw a gerbil eat another gerbil. I guess I'm just not into bullshit all that much.

Well there you go. I'm just not into bullshit.