I swear to baby Jesus, since Mummy left Father, it has been a parade of pool boys. When I use the term “boys”, I mean males that have the IQ of Steve O. It is October for Buddha’s sake! Why do we still have a pool boy?
Roy was this brain dead footballer. He had his own “pool cleaning” business. Mummy claimed that she found him in the yellow pages. I think she meant she found his phone number on the wall at some trashy Walmart. His work outfit consisted of jeans and pierced nipples. I don’t understand why pierced nipples unless he plays for both teams. I wouldnt be caught dead wearing that.
At first, he just came over once a week to clean the tub. After a few weeks, he says that the tub neeed “every other day service”. Mummy agreed to it and his pieced nipples was here quite a bit. I was quite upset with the developments. Mummy was using my money to pay this brain dead jock. That money goes to my pampering fund. I tried to tell her but she said that she didn’t want to get sick from this tub. She gave me a choice: either she dies for germs in the tub or she lives and will not ship me to father. I for one do not live on Chinese food. (Sorry Father)
Roy started to do house hold chores for Mummy all the time. She would throw her ring down the drain at nine P.M. and Roy would come right over and take care of it. Mummy always played Def Leppard when he came by. Then Mummy would move me up in Claires former room when he “fixed” stuff. After awhile of being here, He would answer the phone here like he owned the place. He would “accidentally” kick me. I know it is on purpose, cause he have this messed up look in his eyes. He knows darn well I cant help myself.
When I met him, I wanted to bit him so bad. My plan was to knock down some flea meds that she had to give me. I would bite him, then, from the flea meds, start to foam at the mouth to scare him. I would also make a fake paper saying that I had rabies. But before I could get my plan in motion, he quit coming.
Now, we have Tommy as our current “pool boy”.
Correct me if I wrong but why does she need a poolboy in Autumn. I would ask that but I want to be eat. Tommy is OK. Nicer than Roy. At least he doesn’t kick me. Mummy hasnt thrown her rings in the garbage disposal yet. Hopefully, I don’t have to start call him father or I might just have to fake rabies.
Note to self though: I might have to put DFS on speed dial.