Petco. Where the Crazies Go?

What a beautiful morning. Really it's quite grey outside, probably humid. But other than that, what a beautiful morning. It's been a few days and I deeply apologize. Exciting news this morning: My Awkward Blog reached 100 visits from July 12-this morning! Lets keep it coming homo-sapiens.
Recently, I got my precious feline, Totes, spayed and declawed. Me and Totes:

What a gem.

 Might I say she was a trooper. When I go to pick her up from the vet (aka Hell-on-Earth when dealing with a feline), they told me all of the supplies I needed to get (just new litter, not sure why I made it sound troublesome) to help her adjust to becoming a new woman. Totes and I venture on over to  "Petco. Where the Pets Go." I figured I could find "pellet-clumping-kitty-litter" (that sounds disgusting) on my own, but needless to say I was mistaken. I go up to the front to find a 35-40 year old man who probably is still living at home (Step Brothers Quote: Brennan was going to be moving into his own place, but he was recently let go from his job at PetSmart.) and who was extremely sweaty (?):

 I asked him about the litter since my feline had just gotten surgery and he became high and mighty on my arse and started naming 10+ kitty litter brands. I told him "I just need pellets." He begins speed walking (literally almost running), so I just stood at the counter as he ran off and he looked at me and said "Its this way." As if my out-of-shape self can even keep up with that. He finally shows me the right litter and grabs a massive bag of it. Probably 40 lbs or more, hands it over to me as I am brought down by gravity and runs away again. Back at the counter when I'm about to leave this AWKWARD (it's in the title) situation, I was taken aback by this:

Not this exact person, but eerily similar. She (?) began talking to the "Sweater" about how the "Panther Crawler (?)" had finally been purchased (Thank God!). They began chatting about how relieved they were that this crawler had been bought and how they would miss it cuddling with them while at the Petco. I got the hell out of there realllllll quick. Why do I end up in strange situations similar to this one? No one knows. But they do make for exciting stories. TGIF mofos. G'day mates, let's put anotha shrimp on the barbie. Let's not. BYE.

P.s. Has anyone else wondered why dog treats are starting to look way better than human food? No? Yeah, me neither....

For the Love of Pets

Exactly when is one's love for a pet too much to stand? I'll be the first to admit that my dad's love for our dog, Baxter, is pushing the limits. Now, if you were one of those kids who dressed their dogs up in clothes and talked to them like human beings (don't tell me I was the only one) then that's acceptable, unless you were 13+ (just for the kids that may have done it for too long). For example, this was my families Christmas card picture when I was... let's go with 7:

This is slightly creepy.

So this picture may be pushing the limits but hey, you have to admit it is pretty funny. Now when I was in 6th grade (PETA members do not read.) my friend Amanda Mabry and I came up with an interesting game of hide-and-go-seek. Instead of us hiding from each other (playing with just two people is always boring, admit it.) we decided it would be much more entertaining to hide my dog, Snickers. Meet Snickers: 

She's not the most "fit" dog out there, but she's a lover not a fighter. She's also about 50 lbs overweight and standing tall at maybe a foot from the ground....maybe. When I say we used to "hide my dog" I don't mean under a blanket....we would hide her in my dresser drawers, in pillow cases, etc. Really responsible. Mom, if you never knew this, you know now. Sorry. 

Hiding your pets, or dressing them in clothes is pretty acceptable, or maybe I'm just saying this so I'll feel better about myself. However, one limitation on loving your pet comes from the internet, and by this I mean Facebook. Giving your a pet a Facebook can sometimes be funny (Taffy Ray is my pledge sister Courtney Ray's dog, friend her, it was recently the Maltese's birthday) but when you actually pretend to be a dog and give the dog Facebook statuses, it's a little much. Who in their right mind would do this you may ask? Well, I'll tell you. My father. Tim Fletcher. Here are a few statuses that my birth father, the man I call "Dad" has written (don't judge, I beg you...): all you humans whining about the heat. grow some hair, let it cover you from head to toe---and then---this is where it gets good, when you have to potty, you go OUTSIDE! Yeah... this heat stinks; the joy of a cool floor is infinitely more enjoyable than "spa days" for you ladies, or "grab sports illustrated and head to the master bathroom" for pops; and What's up party people? Finals have been a "bear"! Whoo! hardest part about studying?? keeping the "patron" chilled inside my kennel!! Whoop Whoop! Who's with me?

So if you think your parents talking to your dog, or maybe your room mate only wanting to spend time with their cat is abnormal, just go friend "Baxter Bear Fletcher" on Facebook and be thankful. Hope this brightens your Monday, good evening, and goodnight.

The Good, The Bad...Lafayette

Tomorrow, me and three best friends embark on a journey to Lafayette in honor of Haley Sanders birthday (look her up on Facebook and wish her a happy birthday Saturday). I've been to Laffy-town twice before this trip and it wasn't quite sunshine and rainbows (if that's even a phrase...). September of 2009, I went to Lafayette to visit Haley, Mallory, and Hannah for a Wednesday night at the Keg. I nominated myself (worst idea ever) to be the DD to the bar and once we got there I would begin my drinking. But not so fast. As all of my friends and the people they were with were getting rowdy, I'd been waiting in line for a Bud Light, just one simple beer. After thirty minutes of twiddling my thumbs and trying to flirt with the bartender (second worst idea) I finally found Haley and begged her "Haley, I've been waiting in line for thirty minutes and all I want is a beer." With ease she gets it for me and in return she asks if I venture to the restroom with her, fair trade, fair trade. So as we stand in line, I sip my beer graciously (sorry for the family members reading this. This may come off as a surprise to you, but yes, I do drink) and happily thinking to myself "The night has just begun", when all of a sudden some drunken sleaze (nicest words I can manage) decides to bump into me in the line and looks at me in the face and then...........she vomits all over my body. Not just my feet, but from my chest to my toes, and on Haley's feet. Then, I realize the "bar-wench" had cut her foot, so being the NICEST PERSON ON PLANET EARTH, I helped her clean up her foot, pretty sure I even got her a band-aid. After that, mind you I've had a few sips of beer, we catch a cab (so responsible) back to Haley's so I can change my vomit clothes. After that, we head to the Kappa Sig house, where we find two friends of ours from Baton Rouge. They decide they want Canes, I couldn't agree more. We end up at Haley's apartment around 3, I decide my nights over, no need to make things worse, so I hit the hay. THEN. 4:30. Someone pulled the fire alarm and everyone had to evacuate the apartments for at least an hour. I had a hatred towards Laf-city (I just realized I've changed it's name every time) until the following December where I returned and had a delightful time. So, we shall see if this weekend is a hit or miss, I'll keep all of you posted, not that many of you even care besides my Dad. But it's alright. ENJOY THE WEEKEND. Can't seem to get this song out of my head, so I'll put it in yours: Ghostland Observatory

Paranormal Activity

Some of you may have heard about my dad's home being haunted by a little tot. No? Well...what a delight. I shall share some stories with you. The first "sighting" of the wee girl was by my step-sister, Caroline, who woke up one morning, sat up in bed, looked in the mirror and there was a small girl leaning over her headboard holding a red ball. When she told us this, we figured she was just being a teenager, full of angst and needed attention (you still are Caroline), and we didn't pay attention to her (how loving). But as days passed, and the weeks went by, we kept having odd encounters. My dad would be in the shower, completely alone in the house, and he would hear my step-mom's voice clearly calling his name, but no one was home. Vise-versa on her end. My ultimate fave: We rent out our back apartment to "Cousin Thomas" and when he has friends over they usually park in the front, so one of his lady-friends (tee-hee) had left and the next day saw my dad at their shared occupation and she said "Tim, I didn't know you had a daughter younger than Caroline or Syd." This took him by surprise and basically she had seen a young girl, around 4-5, with long brown hair, standing in the window at early hours in the morning just brushing her hair. No one in our family has long brown hair. So, that's pleasant. There are possibly 25+ more stories to tell (want to hear the rest? e-mail me at myawkwardblog@gmail.com and I'll for sure give you the willies) but the main reason for this post was because my friend Haley and I were going by my dads to check on the pups when we experienced an unpleasant feeling as we were walking up the stairs. Once we went inside I went into the living room to look for something, I have no idea what for. As soon as I walked in there, Haley was still in the front foyer and saw the dog gates that block the stairs (two large science-board like poster boards that we painted to look nice) move completely. So she freaked out a little, but I didn't believe her because Haley lies about everything because she thinks its funny. So we go into the kitchen to feed the dogs and as we're leaving I said "Ok, tell me what you saw again." She explained it again and as we were leaving I looked back towards the stairs and saw a shadow, but instead of it being a black shadow, it was light grey, like the color of a Macbook Pro (no, they aren't advertising) and I did a double-take and it was gone. Scared the living crap (as opposed to the dead crap?) out of me. I told Hals I had just seen something and right after I said that, the dogs starting freaking out and we got the hell out of there. You may be wondering "Why wouldn't you move if this has been going on for 8 years?" I ask myself that exact question every time something does happen, and my dad's response is always "It has character." And that's why my family may be the strangest, maybe most naive, family out there. Enjoy your Wednesday poopskies, and don't forget, have a good blog topic worth posting about? E-mail me at myawkwardblog@gmail.com. TTYL YALL.

My Top 3 Most Despised Commercials

1)

 "Richie", you're band is going to go absolutely nowhere, whether you purchase online auto insurance from an annoying stout cartoon who probably never even served in the military..........I'm not exactly sure what kind of band this even is...There's Richie, who looks like an older "Brady Bunch" brother, you've also got the Jason Mraz wannabe in the fedora back yonder. Then there's the guy in the dreads...rasta?..

2) First things first, changing the way every character in your commercial says "It works (worx?) for me" isn't going to sell your product, also, little late on this one Worx Energy, 5-hour energy totally beats you out. Secondly, besides putting every child's dream job on this (doctor, firefighter, stay at home mom.....) why would anyone be working out in a bikini? If you take notice, her intense yet creepy glare lingers for at least three seconds, leaving me hating this commercial that much longer.

3) And lastly, J.G. Wentworth...

Need I say more? My favorite part is either the young African-American couple singing opera yet still insinuating a more hip-hop beat or the fact that they put lyrics to this horrible yet catchy (don't even act like this isn't one of your guilty pleasures) commercial.

We've (I've) created an e-mail for this glorious piece of technology so you can e-mail me thoughts, topics, hate mail, whatever you want! myawkwardblog@gmail.com, get after it kids. Happy Thursday!