Disclaimer: This is a complete, full on rant. There are quite a few – not safe for the weak eared readers – thoughts shared here. This may be where you want to turn around and walk away slowly. Fair warning.
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Craig used to work this this guy, Nick. I found him almost immediately to be a ridiculous creature, with no quality that allowed me to take him seriously as a man, and possibly as a human.
But aside from being a blithering, self-enthralled, slimy, impish, dolt - he was always fairly harmless. Kind of in an impotent, not really worth any kind of time or effort sort of way. So out of respect for Craig and Travis (who was friends with Nick, and since both having relocated to the Vegas office, have now become roommates), I remained friendly and cordial with him.
Someone shout out and share what one thing, above all else, will put me into a complete and irreversable rage like no other thing in this galaxy.
Animal abuse you say? Why yes, that’s correct. Neglecting an animal is in NO WAY not a form of abuse! It breaks my heart when people take dogs as pets, and leave them in the back yard and not play with them or engage them. Makes me all out angry. Dogs are such social creatures and BADLY need to be involved – even if it’s just with another dog.
But even worse than neglecting a dog’s social needs, is neglecting a dog’s rudamentary physical needs. Food. Water.
So Trav went to Arbua for just over a week. And he asked Nick – who already lives in the same god damned house – to take care of Brodie. Brodie is a very special dog that Craig and I love a great deal. There are lots of fun pictures of Brodie in my MySPace Pets Photo Album from when we had him.
While Travis was transferring to Vegas, he spent a lot of time back and forth – and several months were spent just living in a hotel during the transition. We already loved Brodie by this time, and had no problem keeping him with us until Trav was settled. Our dogs absolutely love him, we absolutely love him, so really it was a no brainer. And he’s such an amazing boy – we thoroughly enjoy any time we get with him, and miss him now that he’s gone.
So now. If the neglect and abuse of an animal I don’t know will throw me instantly into a rage that has a point of no return…..how well do you think this happening to an animal I have close personal ties with will go over?
ALL HE HAD TO DO WAS PUT DOWN FOOD AND WATER EVERY DAY!! THAT’S ALL IT TAKES.
Nick, who just from looking at him appears to be just an 1/8th of a little choromosome away from having become medically retarded in the womb, is so unable to think of anything BUT himself for more than 18 seconds, couldn’t even put F***KING water down!!
Now, in all honesty, I’m not being told everything. All I know is that he didn’t take care of him, didn’t give him water – IN LAS VEGAS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SUMMER – and Brodie was sick in some way when Travis got home. My questions seem to be answered with very guarded information. My guess would be this is because if I found out what had really gone on, Nick would already be using a whole lot less oxygen than he was yesterday.
And as soon as I realized this git was going to be taking care of Brodie, I was worried. But when we saw him log in on the Xbox (assuming Travis hadn’t packed it for his trip to Aruba….though it wouldn’t have been a complete shocker), I had hoped that it meant Nick was just hanging out around the house playing online and such. Seems that wasn’t so much the case.
I no longer feel the need to play nice, and restrain myself for Craig and Travis’s sakes. Nick is a F**K-HEAD, and I wish nothing LESS for him than for his penis to contract some vile and painful disease. That’s just the best I can want for a creature as wretched and disgusting as him. When your inability to focus on something that isn’t yourself, or a DD cup size and how quickly you can get with it, causes harm to something I love…..a quick death would hold NO satisfaction for me.
Stupid friggin’ asswipe. I wouldn’t trust him to take care of a bar of god damned SOAP. Rarely do you run across someone with such little inner-substance as this worthless monster.
His only sense of fulfillment seems to come from walking boobsicles, who have absolutely nothing to offer the planet outside of the ability to blink a lot. Seriously – let’s look at that shell of a homosapien he drug with him to the Christmas party the last year he was here. The stereotypical blonde with an enormous rack, hung out there so far it nearly needed its own seat at the table. And my husband will be the first to tell you I have NO problems admiring a nice rack on a chick. But when you have that much physical…ka-pow….in your favor, and STILL all of the men in the room are so disgusted my what’s coming out from the neck up (loudly and incessantly, I might add) that they can’t even enjoy the view……what does that say about the person who choses to date such a waste??
My severe hope is that next time Travis needs to go somewhere that leaves Brodie to be cared for for more than a day, he’ll let us know. We will most definately work something out.
Thankfully, there wasn’t a tragic end in this story (which I think is obvious at this point just due to the lack of arrests and murder charges involved). Brodie recovered and was laying happily on the couch with his favoritest boy in the world while they played Forza last night.
Should I have the extreme misfortune of having to see that worthless sack of sh** ever again (since he does live with one of my friends), pretty much all of this blog is going to fly right out at him. I won’t even try and keep it in my head, because I don’t care about being nice and and not creating unnecessary tension.
……though I suppose I will have to find a way to say all of this using monosyllabic words just to obtain comprehension from him…..
