this is why i married this man

a story by j.badgreen..



My (wo)man's best friend has started grittin' on me lately, which is funny since he's 3 apples high and his growl is full of helium. And I know my wife's been complaining about me to him when I'm not around because last night he came at me on some, "you know, maybe she wouldn't nag you about the laundry all the time if you helped out every once in a while."

And that kind of surprised me a little, because for one, I don't speak dog, and two, I didn't think that was any of his gotdamn business.



So I said, "man, listen. You're 15 lbs and you sound like alvinsimontheodore. I've eaten dogs bigger than you. Plus maybe I'd do some laundry if I didn't have to hear about it as soon as I walked in the door. I work hard all gotdamn day--sometimes all a nigga needs is a Seven&7 and a footrub."


last night i let him out so i could sit on the stoop and enjoy that good springtime freshness and he could do whatever it is that cockeyed, devil-possessed fleabags do outdoors at night.

i was sitting down, reminiscing on that night's chicken fried steak (thumbs up), and he was sniffing around, probably wishing he had opposable thumbs so he could jam them in my eyes while i sleep, when a fat ass raccoon came wobbling around the corner from out behind the cement factory in front of my house.

this little devilish motherfucker ran away and stood behind me.


so i did what anyone else would do, which is call him a bitchassnigga and open the front door to let his li'l scary ass back in the house.

this morning, on my way out, i reached down to pet him and he jumped up in the air and let out a mutual of omaha wild america mountain lion scream and snapped at my hand.

i said, "gotdamn! is this still about the laundry? you saw me folding clothes when i got home last night!"

at first he didn't say anything. he just looked up at me with a hurt look on his crooked little face. "you didn't have to laugh at me last night," he said finally. "you really hurt my feelings."

i didn't know what to say. i tried to stutter out an apology, but he put his paw to his crooked ass mouth and said, "don't....just don't."


we stood there in awkward silence for three and a half minutes until finally, i said, "that raccoon was big'n a motherfucker, wuddinit?"

"yes it was," he said. "yes it was. and you know what else? you know your wife was getting new contacts yesterday and when you came home, she didn't have her glasses on. did you notice? of course you didn't. you never fucking pay attention."

i started to say something in my defense, but before i could, he fixed his one good eye in a stare that said "no response necessary. just nod and get out of my sight. which i did, but not before he hit me with a parting piece of advice.

"now, i'm gonna lick my ass for a while, and when i'm done, i'm gonna lick where my balls used to be. when i get through with that i might start licking the ass some more, we'll see how it goes. but you, you need to start paying better attention."