The General and I have decided that any future children we might have will not have any flag t-shirts in his/her wardrobe, regardless of how much everyone else might love to flaunt their I Love America Status on that one day a year. Instead, we’ll swaddle him/her in the Canadian flag as a baby. And as the offspring grow older, he/she will don soccer jerseys of either David Villa or one of the many Diegos on the Uruguay World Cup team on the 4th of July.

Don’t get me wrong. We love living in the land of the free and the home of the brave, but that shouldn’t mean we all pay $5 per person to wear douchebag t-shirts. Let’s donate $5 to The 3 Day or to Pet Project Rescue or buy the homeless fella on the corner a value meal from KFC. That five bucks may mean a fancy new t-shirt for you, but it could definitely better spent elsewhere.

It’s kind of just like going to church only on Christmas, you know?

As we were browsing through everything in their inventory (oh, you crazy Swedes), it became very apparent once again that The General and I have completely opposing tastes in pretty much everything when it comes to home decor. I’m more a fan of the bold colors and defined shapes; The General prefers things to be more fluid and subtle. Blues and greens and reds are perfect for me while The General would rather have our house decorated completely in neutral or muted tones.

I’m all for really deep stainless steel kitchen sinks, especially the ones they have at MR Direct. Holy selections!  The General? Probably more of a fan of the porcelain vessel-type sink. Those scares me because when I do dishes, I tend to forget I have large, sharp knifes in the sink and I don’t think those knives would have any effect on the inside of a stainless steel sink. Porcelain, on the other hand, makes me think I might crack it from top to bottom. Much like we did a porcelain-type bowl the other night when I poured hot bacon grease in it. Oops.

It’s a good thing we do a good job of compromising, otherwise this whole relationship could have very well ended right in the bedding section of IKEA today.

Me: So you’ve always been attracted to quirky people?

The General: Pretty much.

Me: Wait – I’m not quirky, am I?

The General: Not really…

Me: Then what was it about me that led to this beautiful romance we have now? (It’s possible that’s not verbatim…)

The General: Well, it’s going to sound bad.

Me: Oh God. What is it?

The General: It was really just a physical attraction at first.

Me: What? I’m just a piece of meat??

The General: Kinda. Yeah.

And then the story went on to explain that while it started out that I was just a piece of meat, it was later realized that I’m just pretty much awesome all the way around. Or, as The General put it, 50% awesome and 50% annoying, but it balances out.

That shit’s true love right there.

The General has a sleep study tonight. I’ve just been informed via text message that there are snacks (granola bars and apple juice) and Sleep Number beds. My bedtime snack’s gonna be some cheese balls and a watered down Dr. Pepper, and I’m gonna go to sleep on a bed full of animals. I don’t think I’m winning this one.

As luck would have it, I have The Boy tonight, so he’s taking a bath. When you’re 12, you get some awesome hair grease action going on and it doesn’t help matters that he’s always trying to use my hair product to give himself a mohawk. He asked if he could take a “long bath”. His defintion was an hour; I bargained him down to 40 minutes. Do I have this pseudo-parent thing down cold, or what?

Of course, he’s been running around the apartment for the 20 minutes prior to his bath in his boxers trying to take pictures of everything he could find in the house with his new cell phone. I hate when he walks around in his boxers, because I really don’t want little boy weenis to become accidentally exposed. Am I wrong for thinking that?

I’m headed to Missouri tomorrow after work for a few days. It’s just Riley and I this time around, which will be sort of nice… but probably feel just as weird as tonight.

The General: Our entire apartment (duplex, whatever) is completely clean now, thanks to some ridiculous power cleaning by that one. And it’s going on two months of no smoking, which is incredibly awesome. We just celebrated 11 months of being together. (How crazy is that?)

The Boy: We do Wii Fit every day that he’s here. And he’s turning out to not only be a pretty fantastic kid to have around, but we’re just developing this bond that I can’t even describe. I’m not his parent, because he already has two awesome ones. I’m just his Wendy and he’s just my Cracken.

Riley: We’re going on three whole months where there hasn’t been a single health issue! He loves the dog park by our house and actually runs there instead of wandering around aimlessly like at previous dog parks we’d taken him. Riley’s been on a boner-fever-run lately and red rockets mainly make me want to puke.

Kentucky: He’s over his ridiculous leash aggression. Kentucky’s the most love-seeking dog I’ve ever met. I cracked him in the head with the Wii remote the other day and he just stood there wagging his tail, when he probably should have been completely concussed. I really want to teach him how to chase and catch the frisbee.

Our Fish: We bought 8 guppies and a Plecostomus about a month ago. Now we have 18 guppies, a Plecostomus, and part of a guppy carcas floating around in the tank. Those crazy fucking things ate Angelina Jolie. (I named the female ones and Angelina was pregnant at the time!) Our only two females left, Octo-Mom and Michelle Duggar, have to fight off the dude fish like they’re at a frat party. It’s disturbing.

And then there’s Peeka. More about Peeka tomorrow, but at least I’ll give you an introduction:

And, look! Here’s the bathtub:

There’s no shower, but The General seems to think it won’t be that big of a deal. Of course, last time I lived in a place that didn’t have a shower was in a house in Sedalia that’s no longer standing. And my hair was probably down to the middle of my back. I have a feeling things might be a little easier now.

We spent the biggest part of the weekend packing boxes. The General’s finished up the kitchen and has been more than patient with me while I go through my gigantic tupperware bins of Christmas cards for the past 20 years of my life.  The paring down of the t-shirt collection may not end on such friendly terms!

I was late getting home from work, because I had to take care of some situations. One that involved me yelling “FUCK” at a colleague, because I completely lost my temper. Oops.

Anyway, now I don’t know what to do with him. I’ve asked Twitter, and they’ve suggested things like “teach him hold ‘em”, “take him to Wisconsin and buy him a beer”, or the all-important “make him watch the Twins game”. But I’ve decided to make him walk to the gas station and buy milk, so we can have macaroni and cheese with our dinner that also consists of frozen chicken kiev and tator tots.

But I guess since it’s dark, I should probably walk with him. And, you know, be an adult.

1. A co-worker leaning into the back window of his VW Passat while cleaning safety glass out. Someone was ballsy enough to punch in the window in the middle of the afternoon while it was parked in an open parking lot right smack dab in the middle of Minneapolis.
2. Two cop cars and a bomb squad truck parked in front of the downtown Minneapolis library.
3. The stoners three blocks down playing hackey sack in their front yard and attempting to involve their wheelchair-bound friend, but instead it looked like they were just beaning her in the head over and over.
4. Myself cutting up raw chicken, which ended up in the most delicious stir fry I think I’ve ever eaten, made ever so lovingly by The General™.
5. A total drug deal going down at 34th and Emerson. The guy in the car that was handing of said drugs asked if Riley was a pit bull. NO, JACKHOLE, HE’S A DRUG SNIFFING DOG, SO WATCH OUT.
6. A seriously crazy lady meeting us head on our post-dinner 2.25 mile walk, who asked Riley to sit (which he did) and then lay down (and instead he tried shaking her hand). Then she handed The General and I an apartment rental magazine.
7. And now it’s pretty much just my computer screen, my fat, tired, white dog sleeping on the couch, and the glow of The General’s laptop.

SIDENOTE: I quit drinking caffeine last Thursday. I just kept forgetting to bring change into work to get pop out of the vending machine, and figured why the hell not just quit worrying about it. As a result, I’m pretty sure I’ve lost eight pounds. I’m currently trying to break my juice habit, too, but holy Christ on a cracker, I could live on nothing but juice and Little Debbie snacks.

SIDENOTE.2: The General quit smoking last Thursday. The quitting of our vices on the exact same day was not at all planned, but it worked out that way. We now own stock in Tootsie Roll pops, but I’d rather find sucker sticks laying all around then make out with an ashtray. Sorry, baby. ;)

After we left, we were strolling down the street and I farted. Loudly. And I apparently looked at The General™ and made a face as if I were grunting, which was completely unintentional. It’s possible it was a very loud fart, but hi – it’s been almost two months, so it was bound to happen. Plus, The General™ has not only farted on my living room floor, but also ON MY LEG WHILE WE WERE SITTING ON THE COUCH (and was allegedly sick at the time). So, we’re kind of even.

This led to a discussion about how sometimes it’s possible to accidentally let out a little dookie while you’re passing gas. Or, as the awesome Urban Dictionary says, gas followed by mass.

It’s possible this may have happened to me while walking back to work from lunch in the not so distant past. Luckily, I hadn’t unpacked my camping gear, so I had an extra pair of drawers in the back of my car. I swapped out the sharty bloomers for the nice clean ones and all was well.

But I know I’m not the only one that’s had that happen. Right? RIGHT?

And that’s why this is all of the post you get tonight. I have more stalking to do.

And The General™ is getting buck ass naked right next to me. So, yeah.