February 27, 2009; A week ends...

So it was announced, yesterday, that I had gone eight days without an "accident" and the Mooks were going on and on about how I was now a perfect fit and yadda yadda yadda. So I figured I'd remind them who was the boss—despite all this NILIF nonsense (which they are still nuts about). So I peed on the couch. Strangely this did not cause the normal hysterics and I suspect it's because they're both exhausted; B from working his ass off and using all his spare time to go mental and A—well A...everyone knows how tiring being unemployed and doing nothing can be.

Meanwhile, we had a little panic this week because, it turns out, that I am becoming covered in spots. So off went A to the internet and he found all sorts of stuff about Black Skin Disease which had me scabbing and oozing and stinking up the joint. If there's one thing I can say in my defense it's that I do not fucking stink. Then Mook A Googled "black spots Jack Russell" and found out that I will be changing my skin colour for a bit yet. The Mooks made a joke that I was channeling Cosmo, the late great dalmatian. Hardy har har.

So now it's the weekend and they better not be too tired to keep me occupied, the fuckers, 'cause when I get bored...well, you know.