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Candy

A Public Apology

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A couple of weeks ago I told a story about making my husband scream like a girl, this kinda pissed him off, he said he didn't appreciate it, he said that I made him look like an idiot (which I didn't, it was just a story). I asked him if it would make him feel any better, if I were to tell a story where I were to make myself look like an idiot? He said Yeah..........so here we go..........

Before I tell this story, you have to understand, Bear is a big dog and I have long hair.

One Friday night a couple of years ago we were heading out on a camping trip, we had been on the road for hours and it was late, way after midnight. We were heading into a new area and all I had to go off of was a map out of an old trail guide. I knew we were getting close, I could just feel it, I kept telling Angelo "just a few more minutes, we're almost there, really, we're almost there".

My dog Bear had been whining for about an hour, I knew he was excited and wanted out. I was sitting in the middle seat and Bear was standing on the passenger seat, with his head hanging out the window. I had reached up and pushed his hip making him spin around in the seat, telling him "Hey, get your butt, outta my face"! He was then facing the windshield, still whining.

Three seconds later I heard PPPPPFFFFFFTTTTT...............THUD and was completely overcome with the smell of hot wet dog shit (a six pound blast of smoldering, hot wet dog shit) I couldn't breath, I was suffocating, I managed to get just enough air to let out a blood curdling scream and was instantly bawling. Angelo slammed on the brakes, pitching the truck sideways, he looked at me with an astonished look and said "Whats Wrong"!?! I looked up at him, all I could say was.....he shi.....he shi....."HE SHIT IN MY HAIRRRR.....WHAA"!
Angelo looked at my so puzzled, he couldn't understand what I was saying, it wasn't registering, it was like I was speaking a foreign language. Then it hit him.....the SMELLLL, and so did I, like a freight train, heading over his lap and out his open window. He grabbed the handle on the door, the door flew open, we both fell out of the truck and onto the ground. The dog, he ran right over the top of us.

From there the scene was complete mayhem, the truck spun out in the middle of the road, in the middle of the night, lights on, door hanging open, Angelo on all fours next to it, choking. Bear, running in circles, in that stance, you know, the one they do when they go to the bathroom, all four feet together and tail sticking straight out.
I was running across the desert floor, screaming and crying....."My Hair.....My Hair.....I CAN'T BELIEVE THE DOG FUCKING SHIT IN MY HAIR.....we're going home.....WE ARE GOING HOME"!!! ( I couldn't stop running, I knew as long as I ran, my hair would be flying in the wind behind me and it wouldn't touch me. I ran and I cried.) Angelo was finally able to catch me and get me to calm down enough to sit down on a rock, he took a flash light and thoroughly inspected my head. He was finally able to convince me that I had NO dog shit in my hair.

We slowly and cautiously walked back to the truck, neither one of us in a hurry to get there. We stopped just short of the truck, stood there and stared at it, walked around it a few times, peeking inside. We kind of bickered back and forth about who was going to clean it up. I finally volunteered, seeing as how Bear was my dog (and I did make him smell my hair to prove that there was no dog shit in it, hee hee).

Luckily we had covers on the seats, I carefully removed the cover and rolled it up, put it in a plastic trash bag, double bagged it, triple bagged it and stuck it down in the deepest darkest corner of the truck bed.

We camped right on the side of the road that night. We figured if a Ranger or a Game Warden were to come by and give us a hard time, we would tell them our story and maybe they would cut us some slack (and not give us anymore shit).

Eventually, we all recovered form that night (even the seat, get it) and we learned a big lesson. These days when on a road trip, I don't care where we are, I don't care what we're doing, Bear speaks and we listen. And I have never, ever, said those six little words to him again, you know....."Hold on Bubba, We're almost there".

Thanks for listening,
Candy

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After hearing ALL of that... I feel normal now:D
my sides hurt from laughter but, I appreciate both stories. (My wife likes to freak me out with lighening storms....I was hit with high voltage years ago and now have P.T.S.)
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Man, I bet you're glad you at least had him move a little. it could have been even worse . . .:S:S:o

Whew



No Shit! That could have been a really, really bad situation. If that would have happened, they'd probably still be looking for me out in the desert (or, maybe not).:P

Candy

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Ok, that was funny...But I thought the other story about your husband was funny too...:D:D:D...

I think everyone has their goofy stories to tell...some are just funnier than others...;)...


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Fly the friendly skies...^_^...})ii({...^_~...

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