3 Pounds of Hellfire

So I've found new meaning in life, specifically: I need a pomeranian. Don't judge, bitches. It is practically a cat or small bear. If the word D-O-G gets your knickers bunched, get over it. It almost looks like a fruit bat, for gadzooks. It's like a fruit bearcat.

My neighbors have been harboring a fugitive pom for a few months. I never saw it, at least until last Saturday when my errands and the pom's poopy-time coincided. Let me tell you: Instant love. It (she?) was a ball of fur with beady, dark eyes, fox ears, and tiny little feet. It looks like a live-action version of a Tribble. But with shiny eyes. When it jumped on me, it weighed less than a Twinkie.

What I knew on that elevator ride was this one, true thing: I must have one. I don't care how rotten-to-the-core the little bastard is, I WANT ONE.

This dream...and the dream of living far away up route 1 on the wind-y road and nestled amongst the redwoods...is boosting my spirits. I am also loving that little freak, Weird Al, and his skillz in "White and Nerdy." You can't not be impressed, Yo. http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoID=1194164636&n=2