Three Sheets To The Wind

I refuse to be held responsible for whatever I post tonight. That's right, I am casting aside personal responsibility! Why? Because I am delightfully, deliciously drunk. I do this maybe once every six to eight months. In fact, I am going to quit correcting my typos as of now! I am working on my 4th bloody mary. Cold Case comes on in 20 minutes. Life is pretty good at the moment. When the alarm goes off at 6:30, it may not be.
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J came in on the Amtrak today. The station is set up differentyl now. You used to get a piece of paper when you parked. Then when you left, an attendatn charged yo for parking.

Now, you get the paper. Before you leave, you scan it. Then you pay with your cash or credit card at this scanning machine. Then you get ANOTHER paper. Then you scan that to get out.

It was a bit complicated even for the adults, which was why I was surprised to see an eight year old boy attempting to do it. His mother pulled up to the curb and looked out the window at him and proceeded to yell across at him. She had a gravely, annoying, whiny "smoked five packs a day" voice.

"Sam, did you figure it out yet?"

"Sam, do you know where to scan the ticket?"

It went on in this vein for a bit. All of us waiting in the line behind little Sam were rolling our eyes. Finally she yelled, "Sam, ask the lady behind you!"

I wish just one person would have said, "Hey lady, I have a better idea. Get your lazy GD ass out of the car, come over here and help!"

Of course, she didn't appear to be a rocket scientist either, so what good would it have done?
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Our puppy is named Mandy, and we finally thought of the perfect name for her. It is Myrtle. She moans when you pet her and she also sleeps in the bathroom at night. Harry Potter fans will understand the reference.

I'm too drunk to explain it to everyone else.
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If Mandy/Myrtle doesn't housebreak soon, I may have to kill her. Remember when you were "supposed to" rub a dog's nose in it when they pooped. Well I know better than to do that, and I won't. But it sure would be satisfying.

Go outside you damn dog, go OUTSIDE!
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while I am on the topic of poop...When SJ was a newborn, he had trouble pooping. He whined and fussed beforehand and then had trouble making product.

I was poop obsessed for four to six months before he finally started being regular. (Oh yeah, I'm still poop obsessed.)

Finally, he was regular, and until recently went about once a day, usually in the morning.

Lately, though, he goes ALL DAY LONG. It isn't pretty. He doesn't even eat much. Where in HECK is all this poop coming from?

We are going through baby wipes faster than a hooker goes through condoms on a busy Friday night.

At least I don't get a four hour "pre-poop" cry fest like when he was a baby. But still...yeesh.

Okay, enough poop from me. Good night.