Beuller?

Beuller? Anyone?

So it's been a crazy week for John D'oh!

His poor dog got attacked at the park by a small female pitbull who nearly chewed his face off. Somehow he escaped with just a few scratches. I don't get it.  The dog had his neck in a deathlock for almost a minute. I really thought there'd be a flap like the semi-decomposed walking dead corpse of Griffin Dunne when he show's up at the theater in An American Werewolf in London.

The dog gods must have been looking over my precious little guy that day, he didn't even have to go to the vet.  I did, however, want to kill the knucklehead who is allowing that crazy mutt to roam around offleash.

Later that evening, on his night walk, he managed to find a full-on buffalo wing in the gutter. At first I thought it was just a chunk of italian bread but then realized he was having trouble scarfing it down (not that I let him eat junk of the ground but i was tired) so upon further examination I discovered said wing. Long story short, he drew blood on my index finger...a lot of it. 

It wasn't intentional, he's a great dog, but it was a back molar and with all that leverage he managed to strike oil.

That was a shitty day to say the least.

Cut to a week later.

My 7 mo. old son gets a few shots and is miserable all day then my wife manages to practically chop her finger off with the food processor and has to go to the emergency room (my diagnosis) whereupon she receives 8 stitches.

Let's hope this little wave of bad luck has passed.

Your fearless leader,

John D'oh!