hmmm

I don't think this is a good start to my blogging career: 50% of my posts so far mention poop. There must be some sort of freudian analysis for my problem... some answer within the shpere of abnormal psychology.

OR i'm just obsessed with my puppy. I think that is the answer. I will try not to mention poop for the next few minutes.

Chico woke up this morning and didn't want to eat his breakfast, which confused me. He has never lost his appetite before, and I was a little worried. Did he pick up some horrible disease? Have we taken him for too many walks before he has had all of his shots? is he going to DIE!??

Since he seems to be happy, i figure he just isn't hungry, but there are two other possible solutions: either he was freaking out because i had to give a little of the ol' bitch slap to the man last night (no slapping was involved), or the fact that he was chewing on raw garlic, which he found on the floor somewhere, all night and morning, and it took away his desire to eat dogfood.

Bitch Slap? Wait, hold it.. what? Well, at 1am, after i was already trying to sleep, it seemed like the entire neighborhood arrived in the living room. S, S, P, and L were all here speaking russian at normal volume, all at the same time. There was laughing, violin plucking, singing of melody line's of brandenburg 4, playing with the morse code thingy... i thought my head was going to explode. Anyway, when they finally left after about a 1/2 hour of block party, i had to scold Slava for not kicking them out, or at least herding them into another room outside of my earshot. Then a few narco-hummers pulled up right outside the building, shooting banda directly into my nerve endings for a while. It was lovely. Needless to say, my half-sleepy-whiny-PMS-2am voice was a bit shocking for our little puppy (and for slava). I don't blame him for losing his appetite! Both aforementioned parties are feeling better, but i kind of want a nap.