Scary, Scary Dog

Have you seen the pictures of the dogs that look like this:


They are supposed to look all cute and peep-hole-ish. But they kinda freak me out. I don’t know why, they are just weird and look freaky and abnormally-large-head-ish.

The other night The Roommate and I went to McDonalds for a late night fix. Because it was late at night and McDonalds is not the healthiest of snack foods I recommended that she get the Happy Meal, which is what I get in an attempt to feel like I am dieting while eating at McDonalds. (My diet is much tastier than the South Beach one, let me tell you) So she got the happy meal and the toy was what I can only assume is supposed to be a stuffed animal version of the Peep Hole Dogs. And it is equally disturbing to me. Maybe even more disturbing, because there are no funky camera angles involved, there is only a dog with an abnormally large head. And it freaks me out. And me being freaked out is apparently a fun thing for The Roommate. Because since that night I have been finding the freaky scary dog hidden all over the house, in random places. And every time I see it it scares me a little. I am convinced she is trying to give me a heart attack.

Exhibits:

This is above my bedroom door, I happened to look up there one night and found the freaky head dog staring down at me. I jumped a little and then threw said dog very hard at co-habitant of my home. This violence did not stop the madness.


Here he is on the hand rail of my stairway. Right where I put my hand to steady myself and try not to fall face first down my 45 degree-angle stairs. Seems like most people would know that scaring me just as I’m about to go down those stairs is not a very nice thing. Unfortunately none of those most people live in my house.


Here he is above where I hang my keys when I walk in the door. Look at his damn nose. It’s not normal.


This is the dog hiding behind my lotion. The lotion I put on right after I get out of the shower.


Do I need this when I am opening the fridge for a Mountain Dew? No I do not.

Tonight I went to take a picture of his latest hiding place, only to find him missing again. So I had to search the house, looking for where he was hidden this time. It’s kinda like Easter. But without eggs. Or candy. Or fun of any kind. Just scary dog heads.

As I was searching for the scary dog head I took a picture of this, another stuffed animal of the house:

Isn’t he adorable? This was a gift from a friend. Who apparently thinks I’m fine. And possibly a bitch. The greatest part about this gift is that I received it at work while I was still in the Accounting Department. It had no card or message with it, just a box with an R-rated bear. The 50 year-old women I worked with were a bit confused, "Is that considered romance these days?" I told them no, it was considered something that someone probably found on the internet and thought I would find amusing. I’m easily amused. (Hence me adding my own glasses to the bear)

And yes, the bear is actually sitting on my kitchen table. Martha Stewart would probably have a coronary. If the scary ass dog didn’t get her when she hung up her keys.