A post that is sure to disappoint people googling "doggie porn" or "bestiality"

As I've discussed a number of times here, I love my friend Kathleen. There are a million reasons, not the least of which is that she's big-hearted and an incredibly loyal friend and so funny, while having just about the foulest mouth of anyone I've ever met. Her use of the word "motherfucker" is sheer artistry. She is astoundingly creative in her profanity.

Particularly when it involves animals.

Years ago she was lamenting the state of her lawn, and how the grass was reaching epic lengths from not being mowed.

And rather than say, "my grass is getting way too long," she observed, "the grass is so long that I could fuck a goat on the front lawn and no one would notice."

At some point over the years, she and her husband developed a particularly awesome phrase to denote when something is someone else's problem to deal with. When you have a task, particularly an unpleasant one, and it's yours and yours alone to work out, it's your dog to fuck.

I don't remember how the expression evolved, but it requires no explanation anymore.

"The water heater needs to be fixed, but I just don't have time to deal with finding a repairman or setting up an appointment. That's his dog to fuck."

"I've explained to her 27 million times how to set up those files. I'm out of it now. She's fucking that dog as far as I'm concerned."

You get the idea.

This past weekend, we decided to have a last hurrah grown-up's night out before The Joey is born. We got a babysitter for the children and, when we discovered the Rockies were in town, decided to go to the baseball game.

There was some back and forth over whether one of our clients could get discounted tickets for us, but with all the craziness of finishing up our big project and everything else going on, I offered to just find tickets online.

Kathleen started to explain something about a way to get tickets at some website, but then stopped herself and said, "you know what? You're a smart girl. You can fuck that dog."

So I did.

The view from our mezzanine level seats.

A gorgeous Denver evening

And a last hurrah it definitely was. I'm getting to the point where I'm uncomfortable all the time. It hurts to roll over in bed, it hurts to stand up from a sitting position, the pressure on my lower abdomen is brutal, and my stomach and intestines are so squished up somewhere behind my boobs that I constantly have heartburn and nausea.

So another outing involving lots of walking around and climbing stadium stairs and the like is not looking like a possibility anymore. All that's left is to have this baby.

Definitely my dog to fuck as well.