MOONWALK RENTALS
with a telephone number beneath it.
And every time I see that sign I do two things. First I think of Michael Jackson. And second I think of Ann-Frank's bouncy house entry and get a warm feeling all inside of me.
It's taking all I have to not call that number and have Cristi come home one day with a gigantic inflatable castle in our front yard with me inside it jumping my fucking heart out and trying to avoid landing on the cats because I would SO have the cats in there with me.
I mean, they only live once right?
She'd be all "Um, what the fuck you doing?"
And I'd be all "LIVING, FOOL!"
And the cats would be all "meow."
And the neighbor kids would be standing around pouting cause I ain't about to let their ass in my castle. As a matter of fact I'd be all jumping inside it going "WHEEEEE! This is so much fun. I sure feel sorry for anyone whose parents don't love them enough to let them have one" and I'd say it loud enough to where they could hear it and I'd look out one of the windows and see them walking down the street with their heads bowed down and kicking the ground.
We're going to Texas this weekend and have asked Dotti and Jeremy to watch after our cats.
I'm gonna leave a note on every piece of furniture we own that says "NO FUCKING ON THIS!"
And they better not.
If I come home and turn on my little semen detector lamp like they have on 48 Hours and see any semen that I'm 100 percent sure ain't mine....OOOOOOH WATCH OUT!
I'm just saying.