You might want to stand back
My buddy rawdogged his flight to Ashgabat last week. Hell, I knew I could do better. So I’m rawdogging my whole day.
I start by rawdogging caffeine, taking it black and stopping at twelve cups.
After coffee, I walk my borzoi. No phone. No poop bags. When he takes a big dump I just grind it into the pavement with my boot.
In the park I see a guy that might be dead, but then I figure he’s probably rawdogging it too, laying on the hard pavement like that. Respect.
It’s pouring but I’m bareboning the weather — no umbrella, just me and the pooch and a shit ton of rain, and maybe some sleet ’cause I’ve got pockmarks on my face now.
My dinner dishes from last night are still in the sink. I wash them without any water. Or dishcloth. I try to pick the burnt grease off with my nail, but I have to spit on the plate to loosen it.
I have a meeting at 10. I have no idea who it’s with or what we’re supposed to be talking about.
Turns out it was my performance review. Shit. The bad news is, I was fired, but the good news is I rawdogged the hell out of that meeting, man! Couldn’t even think of one good thing I had done all year.
My afternoon’s now free, so I go to the gym. Not even gonna lift weights. Just walk around and ask people how much they weigh. Then pick them up.
I’ve been kicked out but they’re letting me shower first. Barefoot of course, no slides for this guy.
I may or may not have a fungal infection now. Christ, my big toe hurts.
Dinner is chicken. Raw. Just ripped open that package with my teeth and now I’m eating it straight out of the tray.
Watching the game. Without any beer. If that ain’t rawdogging, I don’t know what is.
Second period, and my gut is exploding. Stuff is coming out both ends. A chunk of my white sectional is now garbage, but I was able to puke directly onto my coffee table, saving the rug.
can’t make it to the bedroom
have to crawl
or not
think I’ll just lay here on the floor
rawdogging it.