A big thank you to my cousin RJ for letting me crash at his apartment for the Big East tournament this week. Darge – you’re the best!
With that said, RJ has a 3-year-old bulldog named Kingston, who I absolutely 100 percent adore, but who can snore like a mother-effer. Every night around midnight, Kingston mysteriously finds his squeaky chew toy, which he hasn’t noticed at all during the rest of the day. Monday night, King carried that thing around for about an hour before he finally settled down. At some point during the night I rolled over on it in the aerobed. At another point in the night, Kingston jumped off the couch and onto my head. And then I woke up in the morning to the ruckus you hear above.
But look at his face! I can’t be mad!! I also liked when he thought my hair straightener was attacking me while I was packing and came flying out of nowhere to protect me from what I’m assuming he saw as a cord/choking hazard.
Can someone please buy me a puppy? They’re too freakin’ cute.