Saturday SlobberLove

CooperCigarGeorgeBurnsSometimes on Saturday, after a morning that involves one of those psychotic bowel movements that seem to hang from your hiney by an invisible string thereby creating a certain frenzy no dog, man or woman should ever have to endure in public, we like to spend the afternoon acting like the manly beast we are—shouting macho phrases such as “Fetch me my slippers!’ and “Where’s my goddamn bourbon?!” all the while smoking a stogie inside the house and after awhile, when we’re done pretending that we’re Rambo, we find a way to snuggle up to the one who assisted us with our cord of poop and we make it a point to thank her from the bottom of our humiliated heart for her non-judgemental heroism and the way she seems to envelope us in a dome of It’s All Going To Be Okay.

Nobody Knows the Doodies I Have Seen,
Captain Komplicated Keister

7 Comments on "Saturday SlobberLove"

  1. Hilary says:

    Your mom loves you, Coop.

  2. Cupcake Murphy Cupcake Murphy says:

    I do love that boy.

  3. The Zadge says:

    Sort of like hanging chads without the political implications.

  4. The Farmer says:

    This is about Cooper and not E, right?

  5. Cupcake Murphy Cupcake Murphy says:

    Life is messy Bruce.