Purchasing friends, prostitutes, and puppies

When you come to college, you hope to make new friends. If you cannot make friends based on your winning personality (perhaps it’s actually a losing personality), you can always purchase your friends instead. Since I have been unable to build relationships with many people here on campus, I have had to turn to the latter option, buying friends. And since I do not think that I am quite cut out for the Greek life, I have had to find other ways of acquiring acquaintances with monetary means.

Now I know what you are thinking, and I wholeheartedly agree, prostitution is an excellent option for those longing for an empty and emotionless touch. But being someone of modest student earnings (grants and loans), I have found that a quick trip to Bourbon Street can offer the same empty and emotionless touch from an equally empty and emotionless person (shallow and vapid people are bonus finds). All of this is available for a mere $12 cover. Options are sometimes limited though, and those options that actually present themselves often end prematurely (sorry, that’s never happened to me before). In order to have a long and fulfilling friendship based on money, may I suggest what I did recently?

I purchased a puppy!  A PUPPY!

I am the proud owner of spanking new black baby (whoa, relax Angelina) Pug/Shih Tzu mix. I call him a pug-shiht. Purchasing a puppy can be an exciting and rewarding experience. By exciting and rewarding, I mean irritating and tiresome. This guy poops like every day, sometimes more than once. I could only wish to be half as regular as him. I have had some issues with him soiling the new carpet in my apartment. I quickly found that if I don’t give him food or water, he won’t shit or piss on the new carpet. Problem solved! Aside from the constant feeding, grooming, medical check-ups, and attention necessary for a new puppy, it’s all been as smooth as butter (or as President Caret would say, “bahtah”).

Let me formally introduce The Idiot’s “numba wun dawg” – Othello Jackson. His last named is being withheld so that he is not bombarded with facebook stalkers. For those of you not familiar with Shakespeare, Othello is actually quite a well-known character. The Moor of Venice now lives in my apartment (ouch, downgrade). His middle name is Jackson because he, like Michael, wears a single white glove. We are still working on his moonwalk.  For short I call him “O.J.” I can only pray that he manages to reach the same heights as his namesakes: a aeneral, a music icon, and a Heisman-winning running back. I also pray that he never reaches the depths of his namesakes: a jealous wife-murderer, an accused “Jesus Juice” distributer, and a civilly convicted jealous wife-murderer. Man, my dog is a vicious killer! I must remember never to allow him to marry. I mean if he gets lonely we can always buy him a prostitute. He could use a bitch every once in a while.