Blowjobs and Bungalows

My dog turned 1 year old today. But since I'm looking for a new house right now and celebrating my dogs b-day, I don't have time to write about my life and all it's trappings . So I'd like to tell ya story about finding my first apartment in LA and the pets it involved.

I had an interview with a guy to be his roommate. I accidentally performed fellatio on him instead of asking about the utilities and on-site parking. Turns out, he tells me my credit didn't check out the way he wanted it to...So my second apartment seeking adventure led me to this writer's pad on Orange Dr just above Wilshire Blvd. It was so perfect. Clean, spacious, separate entrance for tricks. He breaks out some wine. Who am I to say NO? So i mix some sweet n' lo I find in my bag into the hooch (not recommended by the way). i proceed to get sloshed being this the first time I've had real actual wine. He tells me about his back hurting and asks if I like massages. I tell him I hate people touching my back (which i do indeed hate). He asks me to rub his back. I don't want to be an ass so I say yes. Back rubbing leads to me with a mouthful...again.

In the middle of my ,uhm...application review? yea. that's what we'll call it....anyway...in the middle of the interview, we hear a crash and then a yelp. Like a really loud yelping is coming from the front yard. So we throw on clothes and go outside and find this cute greyhound on the lawn crying. Apparently, his upstairs neighbor that he rents to left her dog on the porch and he jumped down for some reason. He doesn't know what to do. The dog won't let us touch him. I think quick like a faggot MacGyver. I go in his fridge, grab some hot dogs, crush them up with some vicodin (also found in my bag) and feed them to the dog. The dog settles down and let's us pick him up to take him inside to call a vet.
I basically save the fuckin day right?

Wrong.

The next day, I get a phone call from the guy telling me that I almost killed the dog (which i didn't. he was like totally licking my hand all the way to the animal hospital) and I won't be able to move in with him. I asked why not and he says he doesn't think we were compatible on account of the pills and me being like 20 years younger than him and maturity levels and all. I said OK. Hung up politely. Next night, I spray paint HERPE-ULES on his lawn with pink spray paint. Announcing to his neighbors that he had an STD that he didn't actually have felt really immature and so unlike something I would do. That's how I know that he was totally wrong. I was mature.

He had zits on his back anyway.
But yea. anyway. Happy Birthday to my dog, Lloyd.

Events following after shoe's demise: 

R.I.P. 8-inch Zebra Platform Pump

Ok. How weird is this.
All last week, I kept doing stuff that had me almost breaking my leg, like falling in the shower while I was blowdrying the bodypaint on my leg or like walking my dog drunk without my contacts in. Then I had a couple of dreams that involved me in traction with broken ankles. So I'm performing at the El Rey doing my best Willam does Blondie does Courtney Love and it all likes come to fruition. I'm drunk as hell and walking(weaving) and someone wants to take my picture. No shock there. I'm in my third outfit with fierce ass sky-high heels in as many hours so the photographer wants a picutre of it. My shoe rule is "A good heel should be the same size as a good cock." Never under 6.
All of a sudden, I can't feel the floor. I thought I broke my ankle for sure. I'm like, "Where'd the floor go?" I'm against the wall and then on the floor and then in my friends arm. It happened so fast...
Turns out I did NOT in fact break my ankle. I broke my shoe. Damn. My shoe broke off from under me and I was still like floating in the air from being so damn high offa the floor from the other shoe. This was so much funnier than it sounds. Try this-Get the Jaeger or Grey Goose out of the freezer, take a few slugs (no glasses, that's cheating) and re-read this in 10 minutes.

My closest genetic relative.

I was one of those gifted kids in high school. The teachers hated me questioning them. Why didn't we talk about politico's profiting off the Vietnam War? Why couldn't I corn row April's hair after we finished our tests. I eventually figured out a loophole in the credit system to were I amassed all the classes I needed to graduate by the time I was halfway done my junior year. Right after I informed my guidance counselor it was my right to graduate, he called my parents and told them I was a trouble-maker (i was).
They let me work in the office after that, collecting attendance and doing menial jobs rather than have me come and go as I pleased. It was then that I got to experience the very special bond between a parent and their offspring. I see my sister sitting in the front office with the nurse. I ask her what's wrong. She says, " I'm sick." I figure that means she's going home so I sit down and start going through her bookbag to get my geometry homework back that she copied on a daily basis. The nurse picks up the phone and I hear the following conversation (on speaker, mind you):
Nurse: Hello Mrs. Belli. Samantha seems to not be feeling well today. I think you're going to need to come and pick her up.
Mom: And What exactly is the malady du jour? (God i love my mom)
Nurse: Well she seems to have an upset stomach and is looking pekid (whatever that word means).
Mom: Yea, she's hung-over.
Samantha: (yelling into speaker): I am not. I hurt my leg
Nurse: How?
Samantha: In, uhm, gym.
Mom: No Sam, after I locked Willam's window that you used to sneak out of after we nailed yours shut for letting boys in, you tried to sneak in the bathroom window and slipped in the tub. Probably hurt yourself that way, sweetie.
Samantha: Regarless Mother, my stomach hurts too
Mom: Ya Knocked up again?
Nurse: Thank you Mrs. Belli.
The nurse sent my sister back to class. I finished collecting the attendance. Sam went to her boyfriend's office and slept it off. Conviently, her boyfriend was the assistant football coach so she didn't have to walk too far on her jacked up leg. She's just that kinda girl.