Kelsie and I just had a picnic at the park. ‘Picnic’ in this case being loosely defined as ‘lemon cake and crisps’. We were the only ones out of numerous people present who sat in the shade, like the anti-social loners we are. Also, she’s a red head and I’m a blonde. Experience has taught us that we don’t do too good in the sun and were probably already playing a very risky game with heat stroke.
On the way home a guy in a super ostentatious twat-mobile tooted at us and then cruised by, looking very pleased with himself. So, young ladies that we are we gleefully shouted “small penis!”
The car stopped. Like, shit. We started casting around for bushes to dive into. Like, we are way too pretty to have our faces pulverized by some dude in a crap car.
What actually transpired, though, was that his car had stalled. Stalled trying to get over a tiny ittle wittle speed bump.
We nearly cried, we laughed so hard.
Ever since Bijou and Belle came into my life, I have been troubled by a persistent desire to discover what happens if they eat jalapenos.
Look, I’m not pretending that’s acceptable, or normal, or anything. Good people dream of what bad people do, right??
Except like Rihanna knows, it feels so good being bad. So I totally tried to feed them jalapenos last night. They weren’t having it. Bijou is a finicky eater at the best of times, but the only two foods in the world that Belle has revealed herself to be completely resistant to are jalapeno peppers and my cupcakes.
So this morning I took things a step further. During the babies’ handful of moments in which I wasn’t busy dancing like a token middle-class white girl to my new most favourite song ever I found the time to put a jalapeno in the dogs’ water bowl, hoping that one of them would lap it up by accident.
Great success! Belle, dense as ever, drank it up. And…
Nothing happened.
Her tongue didn’t even loll out. Her nose didn’t even get wet.
Dogs are so boring.
