Friday, September 4, 2009

Heathcliff the name of my new fish. Pictures coming soon. He's sexy. As sexy as a fish can be. And I love him. He's the closest thing to a child the universe will let me have because all I have to do is feed him once or twice a day and try not to tap on the glass, which is clearly all I'm capable of. Granted, me and Sammy have killed three fish in the past (two died for lack of oxygen and one we neglected over Christmas break). Oops. But I think this time will be different. I've spent the last year or two maturing a great deal so hopefully I'll be able to care for this little guy and give him all that he needs in life. I hope he can tell how much I love him. I'm sure he can. He must know. There's no way he couldn't. Maybe I'll just bring his little bowl over to the computer and let him read this. We'll see what happens.

But, I'm sure he realizes that I love him because I saved him from the horrible fish keeper at Walmart. He was living in a little 16 oz. tub thing and swimming amongst all his own poop. Also, the mean fish guy scared the crap out of me while I was tapping on the glass. He came out of nowhere whilst I was innocently trying to get the little fishies to move around with my love taps and said, "Do you know what happens when you tap on the glass?!" and proceeded to show me a bag of five or six dead fish. I ran and hid behind Michael. Not one of my proudest moments, but that fish guy was a JERK and I reverted to my girlie ways in a moment of desperation. That guy was a little too passionate about the fish he kept. Another example of this was when the other old guy that works at Walmart (there are only two) came to help us with the fish and was going to let Michael get his own fish out but old guy number one comes running and screaming (slight exaggeration) around the corner shouting, "You can't do that sir! You know better!" to the other old guy. Then old guy number one says to us, "The only way he'd be any dumber is if he were bigger!" What a bastard! (Don't worry, I don't get it either.)

A day later, my fish is living happily on my entertainment center despite my tapping and he's happy to be free of the weirdies at Walmart. Because I don't care what you say, all the weirdies work at Walmart. It's one of those things we don't like to talk about but that we all know. That and Dairy Queen. (Yes, I'm aware that one day I will be out of work and forced to work at either Walmart or Dairy Queen or both because of that comment, but it's a sacrfice I'm willing to make.)
My current jam is: Best I Ever Had by Drake (I recommend the edited version if you have small children or Mormons around).


Rachel said...

Remember my post about Brett and Jermaine? The fish I killed? Well, I got them from that same creepy old dude at Walmart. He IS way too into the fish. He is a weirdie. And yes, all the weirdies DO work at Walmart. Myself included, many weird moons ago.
May Heathcliff live a long and healthy life. :)

Michael said...

I am proud to say that I have now read an entire blog by Miss Rebbecca Ann Tucker. The experience was priceless. The blog was so deep that it left me with questions. Questions like "Did Becky really let Cliff read the blog?" Cause if you did, you probably will be working at WalMart in about 30 years.


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