Living with Barry

I live with Barry. I live with Barry in his house. It is a very nice house. Although, I’m not always convinced that it is the place I should be living. But I love this guy. DAMN IT!

Anyway. I figure, either I start using him as subject matter, or he is going to drive me absolutely INSANE.

He has this dog. This really old dog. Sometimes he feeds him really expensive food – like filet mignon. I’m not sure if  it’s because he doesn’t know how to save money and he figures he should just spend it on his dog or he just loves his dog that much.  BUT,  as long as he’s spending it on me, I’m usually not so cranky about it. But the dog – LIKE REALLY.

The dog’s name is growler. And that’s because he came out of the womb growling. He is now somewhat deaf. Still feisty and headstrong, but somewhat deaf  and he eats like a horse.

So, tonight, after a very aggravating day of Barry- although always entertaining – I have started to document this torture.


Day One