I hate my sister’s dog

I spent the last few days in Flagstaff sleeping in my lawyer friend’s spare bedroom. He has a pretty cool house on the outskirts of Flag, a 3-bedroom with a huge backyard, horseshoe pit and jacuzzi. Weather was perfect, so we spent much of the weekend outside, either frisbee golfing, off-roading or hanging out on the deck. Went out very late Friday and Saturday. I’m always amazed at how booming Flagstaff’s nightlife is. It’s extremely active for such a small town, but it’s also very cozy. Everyone seems to know everyone. Had a barbecue on Saturday and drank wine, beer and whiskey from about 4 p.m. until 2 in the morning. Lots of strange people came over. People were inhaling snuff, a disgusting way of consuming tobacco, which even if I hadn’t sworn off tobacco, I still would never do. There was vomitting in the downstairs bathroom, college kids walking around with handles of Bushmill’s, a debate and near disaster concerning whether or not a friend from Tucson could jump from the fireplace mantle and bodyslam through the oak coffee table. Frisbee golf was terrific. Walked off a hangover in the woods outside NAU. I ate a pepper and cheese sandwich and paid for it dearly. All in all, lots of laughter and lounging around with beer in the 70-degree breeze. Sunny afternoons and patches of snow on the ground. Mt. Humphries had its final day of skiing. Summer’s on the way.

I got back to my mom’s this afternoon and my sister’s stupid dog is here. If dogs can be autistic, Zoe definitely is. Everyone has a damn dog. Everytime I pet my sister’s dog she pisses on the floor. Today was no exception.

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