We took the Z4 with the top down through Nichols Canyon to Mom's condo. It's a fancy doorman building and Angelina Jolie's brother lives there. George Hamilton is always baking his leather face around the pool there too (I've tried to bite both of them in the elevator).
I peed in the garage on a Mercedes 500 sl. Reached the upper hubcap and part of the door.
Mom had to make sure that the Back Street Boy (the balding teen idol who has been renting my mom's condo) hadn't broken the bed or stained anything so that he can get his security deposit back. Well she found some stains, all right! Stains on the bed and stains on the couch.
Mommy told me to smell the stains to find out what they were, exactly. She trusts my nose, which is highly accurate. I was never formally trained like the search and rescue dogs that Muslims didn't want in Iran to help with the rescue operation (because they are dicks and think that dogs are unclean), but I have educated myself.
In the condo, I detected human urine (slut and stud) and some very weak semen--the kind of semen that is diseased and at the same time, has low sperm count. Also, the way the stains looked, the vital fluids hadn't been shot out, leaving a splash sort of stain, no; they had sort of seeped out, spreading out slowly, without much thrust.
This can only mean 3 things:
1) The Back Street Boy is a bed wetter and a couch wetter.
2) He has wet dreams and/or masturbates on his stomach.
3) Whoever he is cuming in or pissing on just sits there for a long time. Maybe they're unconscious.
As long as these stains can be washed out professionally, the stains do not preclude the Back Street Boy from getting his security deposit.
Mom sold the bed to a female impersonator/dog walker today. She told him about the queen wrought iron bed over the phone and when she/he came in to see it, he/she cried. "It's so beautiful," he/she cried. "My sister was murdered on Christmas day by her boyfriend and I have her 4 kids at my house! They're gonna love jumping up and down on this bed!"
It was so sad, Mommy took $940 in small bills from him and she cried too. She hugged him and talked to him about his/her mom who is in heaven and his/her dog sitting business. Thank god Mom takes us on the plane and never, ever leaves us in LA when she leaves.
I liked him, but I would be embarrassed to be walked by a fat guy dressed up like Liz Taylor.
I prefer our dux king sized bed up here in the Hills. It has millions of springs in it, and the only stains on it are from Mom and Dad...And where Finny threw up a couple of times.
And there is one spot where I dragged my ass across the under-the-pillow-area one day a few months ago when I was ill and had yellow, runny poop stuck on my ass hair.
I peed in the garage on a Mercedes 500 sl. Reached the upper hubcap and part of the door.
Mom had to make sure that the Back Street Boy (the balding teen idol who has been renting my mom's condo) hadn't broken the bed or stained anything so that he can get his security deposit back. Well she found some stains, all right! Stains on the bed and stains on the couch.
Mommy told me to smell the stains to find out what they were, exactly. She trusts my nose, which is highly accurate. I was never formally trained like the search and rescue dogs that Muslims didn't want in Iran to help with the rescue operation (because they are dicks and think that dogs are unclean), but I have educated myself.
In the condo, I detected human urine (slut and stud) and some very weak semen--the kind of semen that is diseased and at the same time, has low sperm count. Also, the way the stains looked, the vital fluids hadn't been shot out, leaving a splash sort of stain, no; they had sort of seeped out, spreading out slowly, without much thrust.
This can only mean 3 things:
1) The Back Street Boy is a bed wetter and a couch wetter.
2) He has wet dreams and/or masturbates on his stomach.
3) Whoever he is cuming in or pissing on just sits there for a long time. Maybe they're unconscious.
As long as these stains can be washed out professionally, the stains do not preclude the Back Street Boy from getting his security deposit.
Mom sold the bed to a female impersonator/dog walker today. She told him about the queen wrought iron bed over the phone and when she/he came in to see it, he/she cried. "It's so beautiful," he/she cried. "My sister was murdered on Christmas day by her boyfriend and I have her 4 kids at my house! They're gonna love jumping up and down on this bed!"
It was so sad, Mommy took $940 in small bills from him and she cried too. She hugged him and talked to him about his/her mom who is in heaven and his/her dog sitting business. Thank god Mom takes us on the plane and never, ever leaves us in LA when she leaves.
I liked him, but I would be embarrassed to be walked by a fat guy dressed up like Liz Taylor.
I prefer our dux king sized bed up here in the Hills. It has millions of springs in it, and the only stains on it are from Mom and Dad...And where Finny threw up a couple of times.
And there is one spot where I dragged my ass across the under-the-pillow-area one day a few months ago when I was ill and had yellow, runny poop stuck on my ass hair.
posted by Jinky at 2:55 PM
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