Amber’s dog was in a car accident Friday, so she was pretty upset. We ended up talking on the phone for a while and I realized I had nothing to write about, considering I had the program open for about an hour.

“Write about me,” she says, “and how awesome I am.”

If I recall correctly, I met her through someone that used to do a radio show at K-IRB.com. We gots to talkins and found out she was a pretty cool chick, so I decided to keep her around. That was probably almost a year ago.

The Indiana darling invited me to her wedding (she already has a date, from what I understand) in October ’07, to which I gladly said yes to. I was even looking forward to it, so much that I went out and hired conned begged for a date. Better be prepared in advance than to have it all catch up with me at the last second.

Then the bitch goes and changes the fucking date – to JANUARY. I was okay with that, except I couldn’t go to this date. She also tells me that her and her fiance are expecting, so I forgive her for wrecking my potential October travel plans.

Anyway, her dog was hit by a truck driving down the street. She tells me the guy didn’t even slow down or after the fact stop to see what happened. What’s the problem with that?

Amber told me all about her trials today, going to the vet and dealing with their stupidity while the dog was suffering. Fill this out, sign this, hold that, wait here. There were a couple of other things she said that really bummed me out.

But she’s okay now. She’s got her TV/computer to entertain her for hours on end while The Man is out working. We talked, and she’s in a better mood. And that’s awesome.

I wonder if this is what she meant…