May 5, 2009; Farewell and Adieu

Well, I was worried the time would come and it has. This will be the last blog I'll be writing...at least from this computer. The Mooks couldn't handle me anymore and have been working hard to find me a new home and have. So that's it. Fun's over. It's been a slice.

AHA! Gotcha!!

You didn't think for one moment that Super Léo couldn't find a way around these two tards, did you? It's simple: be good for a couple of days, show them how they can't live without you, and every time they start talking about sending you away go to one of them and lie on their feet. (Not at their feet...on them; make their hairy little tootsies warm.) Works every fucking time, at least it works every fucking time when you're dealing with lily-livered homos who are looking for a surrogate child.

That's one good thing you can say about queers: they like their dogs (and if they're really queer, their cats). 

The convo in this place has been hilarious. Mook A has been like fucking Sybil, one minute arguing for my departure and the next minute arguing for me staying. He'd say things like, "You're driving him (ie: Mook B) crazy and I don't think he can handle the stress right now." And then, in a heartbeat: "He loves you so much I don't think he could handle you leaving." I mean, I wasn't saying anything and I don't even think he knew I was in the room...he was just talking! How whack is that?

I knew what had to be done: go into full-blown nice mode. When I was asked to sing, I sang. When Mook A's family came for lunch on Saturday I played with the daughter without raping her ear like last time. When they were watching TV, I would sit quietly staring at one or the other until they broke down, picked me up, cuddled me and then I would sigh...a noise that always turns them into a puddle of submissive sludge.

Yesterday morning Mook B said, "We aren't sending him away." It wasn't quite a statement 'cause in this house it's Mook A who makes the hard choices and Mook B who does the housework (they're very 1950s Leave it to Beaver in that way...but without the beaver if you know what I mean and I think you do). Mook A said, "We'll see." 

Well...we saw. 

Suck on it!

Of course I won...