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Francis's Doghouse Rescue Center

 

Pain, Love... Ah What's the Difference?

Is romance dead? Well that depends on who you're talking to...

Your idea of intimacy is a special camping trip for two in the mountains, complete with campfire and smores.
Her? She likes collapsing on the couch with a industrial size bag of salt n' vinager potato chips to watch
the latest piece-of-shit sitcom starring Pauly Shore, Scott Baio or some other freak of nature.

You've given her flowers, she's given you a complex; you've wined and dined her, she's just whined; heck, you
bought her a dress that could make Martina Navratilova look pretty. How does your true love respond?

"Hey! Put down the toilet seat when you're done pissing!!!

Aaah, love... The changes it brings.

Take the apartment, for example. What's left of it, at least... Gone are your vintage road signs, your massive stereo
speakers and the posters of Hendrix, Lennon and Mike Schmidt; gone are your collections of T-shirts and
baseball caps; gone are your special videotapes... you know the ones.

No... They've all been replaced by Lev-Lor blinds, potpourri air freshener, and a color scheme comprised of mauve and "puce".

Yul Brenner? Sexy. And she never shuts up about Telly Savalas! But as the hair starts disappearing from YOUR
head, your ever-so-courteous love likes to offer you coupons for the free "Buff 'N Shine" at Jack's Car Wash.

She's not such a great cook. But hey, making toast is difficult. And pasta with green sauce doesn't taste so
bad once you learn how to drink a stiff whiskey before the meal actually begins...

Thank goodness her friends are amazing-- amazingly annoying, that is. They encourage her to take up pointless
hobbies such as: attending tupperware parties, collecting salt and pepper shakers and offering you coupons
for the free "Buff 'N Shine" at Jack's Car Wash.

But she loves them like family so she shows up early with you to their parties to help set up; for your friends,
you're lucky to get in a beer with the guys. Frankly, at this point, they're curious if you still have a penis.

You generally arrive 1 hour, 45 minutes late to their functions because, while it takes you only 20 minutes to
shower, shave, shit, read the paper and dress yourself, she always takes EVERY piece of fucking clothing
she owns out of the closet. Small countries could be clothed with this woman's wardrobe.

But how bad can it possibly be? You're just two people and nothing can ever change that.

Until she breaks the news on your way on the door: she's going to be the mother of your children...