Electricity is a beautiful thing.

So, J again.

J is in and out of the hospital a lot. The, er, psychiatric hospital. There's a fairly precise formula to the whole thing:

1.) J has girlfriend.
2.) J breaks up with girlfriend.
3.) J cries, afraid to be alone. Dejected. Comes over a lot.
4.) J sees ex-girlfriend against his better judgment, they 'make out'.
5.) J threatens suicide to his therapist. Is checked into local hospital for electro-shock therapy.
6.) Rinse.
7.) Repeat.

You know. He's got his whole system down and it seems to be working for him, so I'm really in no place to judge. EXCEPT. J has added another step, which is:

8.) J buys a fucking puppy.

Okay. Unstable, in and out of the hospital, abandonment issues, clingy-love issues, lives alone, never home, irresponsible, has never owned a pet. Did I mention that he's allergic to dogs? Oh, because he is.

So. Dinner tonight at this cajun place a friend works at [loud jazz, annoying hipsters, free food, peanut butter pie]. J walks in. Sits down, shakes his head in the usual manner and spits out the same old words: I saw her at the library. We made out. I know you're disappointed in me - I didn't want to tell you in front of her [indicating me - I am the mean one that tells him to stop crying and not to touch me and points out that he is ALLERGIC TO DOGS].

So. Looks like I'm getting a new dog soon, if only on a temporary basis.
...anyone want a 8-week old puppy?