A dog tried to bite me last night. I really hope this is not an omen for 2008, because I’ve been having such positive feelings about it.
Stacey and I were coming back from the Dresden Dolls show, which was amazing, BTW, and going back to her place so that she could write me a check for the ticket. (Five bucks says I lose it. I still can’t find my Christmas check from my grandparents.)
As we walked up Union, a guy came by with a little chihuahua on a leash.
“Aw, how cute!” I said, and leaned forward. Whereupon, the little bastard lunged at me snarling, and tried to bite my hand. When I drew back too quickly for that, he snapped at my calf. I could actually feel his nasty little teeth bouncing off my tights. If his owner hadn’t pulled him back, I’m pretty sure I would have spent the rest of the first hours of ’08 in the ER getting my calf reattached.
What would Cesar do?
Jennie Smash 
I don’t know if I’ve ever told you the story about the time I was bitten on the nose by a Chihuahua named Stanley. I feel like I have. Anycase, he fucking chinatowned me up the front of the nostril and I was left bleeding all over myself and my date’s lovely bath towel. Short story, fuck Chihuahuas. They’re worse than vermin… I mean, when was the last time you saw a rat wearing a ridiculous sweater?
Hugs and Kisses,
Aaron Miller