The Plot Sickens

First of all...this shoe style is called "The Kougar," and if you know one thing about me, it's this: I am amazed by the Urban Cougar concept (see www.suzannesomers.com, as she is their Dalai Lama and Fashion Consultant rolled into one sugarless treat). Here in the Valley we are surrounded by the Urban Cougar - she roams our malls and makes our Old-Scottsdale bars her hunting grounds. And - thanks to Steve Madden - she can now do it wearing her namesake shoes.

So, in other news. Yes, the plot does sicken. Beknownst to the masochistic, demented readers of this blog, I spent an inordinate amount of time with the Puppy this weekend - including going to his place last night to mock Dawn of the Dead. But I did not call my friend L, whom he fucked. Why? Because I was so put off by her behavior that I shut down and decided that if she wants to redeem herself, it's up to her. The Hessian alone is worthy of major apologies, truth be told.

Anyhoo, so she left two contrite, bawling, sobbing messages on my voice mail that I did not retrieve until today, and, because I'm a mean bitch, I emailed the Puppy and was like, "See what you did? Now L is all upset because she thinks I won't like her anymore." And, of course, I thought I was being dryly funny, and he didn't, so he took it the wrong way. (Because he's just as reactionary as I am.) He was like, "That shouldn't happen if she knows we're just friends," and I was like, "I just told you about it because I thought it was funny." Seriously, if she fucked the Puppy's cousin then she'd be crying to the Puppy about how embarrassed she is, instead of crying to me. Oof. So anyhoo, the Puppy's all bent - thinking I have a crush on him - when frankly I just love the Puppyness of it all. If there was ever a person that I should not/could not/would not get involved with, it is the Puppy. He's sweet, brilliant, witty - and massively fucked up. I like having him around.

And what did not occur to him was this: Why would I spend all that time with him - just hours after his sordid penetration of my girlfriend - if I gave a shit about seeing him romantically? Come on, Puppy. Don't flatter yourself.

So, now L and I are back on track - I mocked her for her behavior, she apologized profusely for being so ridiculous and drunk, and we both laughed about it. This isn't life-threatening stuff. It's just drama. She's just embarrassed, and I assured her that she should be. My main concern now is that this is the second time there has been this sort of drama involved with my "friendship" with the Puppy. Hasn't happened with anyone else. Every other relationship - even with the EH - is smooth, mutually beneficial and easy as pie.

Oh! Smack! I need to wake the fuck up, don't I, and run screaming from this kid? Ah, Puppy...you moron. I'll miss you.

ps: The Puppy just called. Evidently the concept of "friendship" is too much for him - we decided to be "drinking buddies" instead. "I'm a shit," he said. I said, "You don't have to be," and he replied, 'Yeah, but it's just easier."

True dat, Puppy. True dat.

pps: I had lunch with my girlie in AA, and she just stopped by and we grabbed dinner before her "speaker meeting." As soon as she left I poured myself a drink.

ppps: I think I'm still sober enough to not be imagining this: http://www.daddydesign.com/Barney.html

Tell Me About It:
You're right - cut the Puppy loose - you don't need the hassles. That daddydesign thing was just scary - not that I'm a Barney fan but it was disturbing to hear those lyrics in the same picture as a bunch of little kids.
What? You don't think Barney and Tupac are the ultimate your-peanut-butter-is-in-my-chocolate treat? Ha ha. It's sick, I know...but is it any more demented than Somersweet?
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