I don’t know how to tell you all this, so I might as well start at the beginning. I mean, I could start at the ending, but then all of you would be wondering what the fuck I was talking about. Out of context, you might think a shaved mule in my bathtub would be pretty strange. But once you read the whole story, you’ll realize it all makes perfect sense. So, anyhow, the beginning:
I woke up in bed last night with this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. I think part of it had to do with the blue-cheese sushi I had earlier. I found it in the back of my refrigerator, behind the green bread and the bloated bottle of fresh orange juice. But that was just part of it. The other part was just a feeling that something wasn’t quite right, like I was in grave danger. . . or maybe it was just the sushi.
In any case, I wasn’t feeling so hot. So I got up to get some orange juice to help settle my stomach. Man, that was some fresh juice. As soon as I loosened the cap, it shot across the room. Mmm. . .it tasted all bubbly, like it was carbonated or something, just like a mimosa. Heck, if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I got a little tipsy from drinking it.
Anyhow, I guess I must’ve been pretty tired, because I passed out right there in the kitchen. When I woke up, I came to a horrible realization: I forgot to feed Fluffy. Of course, Fluffy is my mule. Poor little guy. After I poured him a bowl of Science Diet Mule Chow and filled up his water trough, Fluffy came trotting in. That’s when I noticed his mane was all matted and tangled. The stupid fucking mule must’ve been horsing around with the kids again. I tried to comb his hair out for him, but it was just no use. He had to be shaved. And so, yes, I shaved my mule. In the bathtub. Because doing it in the living room would’ve just been fucking insane.
See? I told you it would all make sense.
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