Frito came home with this weird(er) look on his face today.
-Dood, we got a dog!
Upstairs was a 6-month old German pointer that we promptly named Whiskey Maldonado.
The poor creature was pretty freaked out-Scoot said he puked in the car on the way home. Whiskey hardly moved for the first couple of hours. He was petrified-and kept looking at us like: What. the. fuck. am. I. doing. with. these. two. fools?!
Which cracked me up sumthin' fierce...
Frito went out and got him some food, a bowl and a copy of Training for Dummies...This should be fun.