Friday, January 11, 2008
OKAY "POKER KING," OBVIOUSLY WHAT I SAID BEFORE ABOUT ME BEING AWESOME AT POKER WAS BULLSHIT, NOW CAN I HAVE MY MONEY BACK?
Ha ha ha…everyone having a good laugh? Great, now give me back my money. Oh you just HAD to put me in my place, didn’t you? Hey, remember when I said I was really good at poker, but the whole time I was still a fucking dog? Yeah, that’s when it became uncool to try and show me up.
You know how when you were holding pocket kings and you went all in, and then I called you with a 4-9 off suit? Well I have no idea how to read numbers, count, or even comprehend the idea of mathematics NOR DO I UNDERSTAND THE CONCEPT OF GAMBLING. That doesn’t make you feel bad at all?
I bet you’re the type of guy who not only takes candy from a baby, but while you’re doing it you will actually say out loud, “It’s like taking candy from a baby!” Sir, I find you unoriginal, obnoxious, and frankly, kind of a jerk.
Now when you ask me why I need any money, or even how, as a dog, I was able to earn money in the first place, I say that all of these points are valid and I’d rather not discuss it.
Good day, sir.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Happy Birthday, lady! You’re husband thought long and hard about what to get you for your special day and finally narrowed it down to two gifts: a diamond ring and me. Well I think at this point it’s pretty obvious what his decision was. Me! Well, actually he got you both presents but I stole the diamond ring and buried it somewhere in the backyard. So now it’s just me!
This is just the first of many inconveniences you have to look forward to in the next 12-15 years. I’m so adorable! Look at me with my big red bow on. How cute am I? Oh, by the way I was poking through your closet upstairs and I must say, you have some nice duds. And I also noticed that you just bought a new pair of Jimmy Choo’s. I’m not implying anything but they sure did look tasty – I mean pretty. Mmmmmm, shoes. Look how snuggly I am!
Oh and by the way I’m not exactly housebroken yet so when you notice that little stain in the living room, don’t blame me! Taking me to obedience school sure is going to be expensive!
Hey remember how you used to sleep late? Well, too bad. Because I’m going to need to be walked at 7 AM for the rest of my life. Won’t that be fun? I knew you thought so. Feel how silky my fur is. Have fun keeping it clean. I love rolling around in the dirt, don’t you?
What a well thought out gift idea I am! Oh. Don’t forget the cost of food and doctors and toys and medicine and thousands of dollars worth of chewed up furniture. What a sweetheart your husband is! I’m going to go now and take a nap on your pillow. Hey, I heard you have a dog allergy! I’m so cute.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
One of my favorite parts of the day is when I get the urge to go to the bathroom. No matter how bad I have to go or how loudly I scratch at the door, I have to wait for you to get off your butt and open the door for me. God forbid I need to go during one of your precious sporting events. Well if you don’t want me to go right here on the carpet then I suggest you help me.
I also want to thank you for all of the restrictions you put on me in my own house. Let’s see…where am I not allowed to go? I’m definitely not allowed on the couch. Don’t worry; this cold hardwood floor is just as comfy. I’m also not allowed in the dining room. Oh, I and I can’t forget the fact that I am banned from ever going upstairs! That’s half the house that is off limits to me! And you’re always telling me how much of a part of the family I am. Well you don’t treat your human sons like this, I’ll tell ya.
And you guys love to have your parties. It seems like every weekend there are people over to watch football games or poker nights or dinner parties. You think I don’t like to party? Are you kidding me? After people start drinking they get really lazy with the food in their hands. But do I ever get to enjoy these events? Noooooo. I get locked in the garage. No, I guess I’ll just try to make conversation with the Honda Accord. “Hello Honda Accord, how are you? That’s great, Honda Accord, you have such interesting things to say.” I am so bored!!!
So anyway, I really hope that you love your precious newspaper today. I hope it’s worth it. At who’s expense? Mine. Can I ask you just one favor, please? Next time you throw me into the car, instead of taking me to the vet how about I get one visit to the park this year? Just one. I really need a day off.
P.S. Thanks for neutering me!!
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Ok, that’s funny, you’re getting in the passenger’s seat like I’m really about to back this car out of the driveway. You are hilarious. Please don’t put that seatbelt on me. Okay, now I have a seatbelt on. Just a little FYI, Seat belts are designed for the human body and give little protection to quadrupedal species. I plead with you now for the tiniest bit of sanity; what is your plan for pushing the gas pedal? And do not say you’re going to put a brick on the pedal because that will make it impossible to slow down. I hope you realize that.
I’d like to share with you an article that was read to me by someone who can actually read from the Xinhua News Agency:
“A Chinese dog owner who allowed her mutt to take the wheel of her car promptly crashed headlong into an oncoming car.
Mrs. Li from Hohhot, the capital of Chinese Inner Mongolia, admitted her dog was "was fond of crouching on the steering wheel and often watched her drive". Accordingly, she decided it was a bright idea to "let the dog 'have a try' while she operated the accelerator and brake" - with inevitable results.
Xinhua sadly fails to note either the breed of dog involved or details of the vehicles and the resultant carnage. It does, however, state that Li "paid for repairs", which seems fair enough in the circumstances. ®”
I don’t know about you, but that makes me not want to drive this car. It may sound silly, but I enjoy being alive. Naps, mealtime, walks through the park…these are the kinds of things I’m into. Driving a car to my certain death…not really my cup of tea.
Hey, I have an idea! Why don’t YOU get in the driver’s seat and I’ll get in the passenger’s seat and hang my head out the window while you drive. Oh boy, that sounds fun. And safe! Safe and fun. Yes, I realize that that is how we always do it and that it won’t be a fun story to tell your buddies at the next card game. But look on the bright side. You will actually be able to GO to the next card game. It’ll be hard to get around when you’re in traction at the hospital for the next six months.
Remember when you had me take over the flying duties for that remote controlled plane you bought last year. Remember how not more than 15 seconds after I had the remote in my paws, it crashed it into a tree and set the tree on fire? Well that’s pretty much all I can think about right now. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to jump out of the car window right now. It’s a sad day when the dog is more sensible and practical than the owner but it’s just the way the cookie has, apparently, crumbled.
Speaking of cookies, I’m going to go look for some in the trashcan right now. Maybe there will be some coffee grounds I can spread all over the kitchen floor! As you see, my day is already too full to squeeze in driving lessons. I’ll see you later after you’ve calmed down.
Sincerely, Earl Droop
The excitement I felt during the car ride to the coast was absolutely palpable. You probably didn’t think I noticed because I’m a dog, but I loved that mix CD you made with all songs about the beach with a lot of Beach Boys and Dick Dale mixed in. If I could only make one suggestion on your next mix, I would put in Katrina and the Waves “Walking on Sunshine.” I love to bark during the “whoa-o” part in the chorus. I have fun in my own way.
When we set up a spot on the beach I was so excited I peed a little. Luckily, dogs don’t wear pants so this proved not to be too much of an issue. After applying sun tan lotion for what seemed like an hour, you finally pulled out of your bag the holy grail for dogs at the beach: The Frisbee.
Oh, I couldn’t wait for you to toss me that flying piece of heaven so I could catch it in my mouth and finally be the possessor of such a grand invention. But no sooner than the moment I had the disc in my teeth did you call me over to you and asked me to drop it. I, of course, refused to do such a thing. There we were, locked in a somewhat annoying battle of uncomfortable stares. I mean, you had just given it to me! You had it all day. Heck, I’ve never seen this frisbee before. For all I know, you’ve had this thing your whole life! I get it for five measly seconds and now it’s your turn again? Something was just not right.
After I finally relented and you got your “precious” frisbee back, what happened next still confuses me. You threw it right back to me! What? That doesn’t make any sense! Not ten seconds ago it was the end of the world if I didn’t give you the frisbee back “right now.” Then all the sudden you don’t care about it anymore? Please! Of course I accepted it, after all, I had only spent about 15 seconds total with this awesome toy.
What happened next was something I never would have believed if I hadn’t been there. Immediately after you threw me the frisbee for the second time, you once again demanded that I return the frisbee back to you. Are you kidding me! You’re in need of some serious psychiatric evaluation, buddy. When I refused to give you the frisbee back the second time, that’s when things turned violent. You bent down and tried to rip the toy from my clenched teeth. I may need dental work now! There we were, both as stubborn as two…things that have a history of being stubborn? Mules, that’s it! We were two stubborn mules.
Of course you won, and now you are the proud owner of a frisbee, covered in the slobber of disappointment. Yeah, I know that you immediately threw it right back to me. I am well aware of this all-too predictable turn of events. It did it me in the face you know! But I refused then and I will refuse in the future to ever play those mind games with you again. You got a lot of nerve man. A lot of nerve. And next time you go to the beach…well, still ask me to come because I had a blast!
“walkin’ on sunshine – whoa-o – and don’t it feel good!”
Come on now… What are you doing to me here? Look how long I am! This is unnatural and quite frankly it makes it very difficult to get around. You think I can jump up on the couch all by myself? Well, then you got another thing coming, pal. Oh boy. Look at my little legs. I can barely keep my stomach from scraping the ground when I walk. If I try and rear up on my hind legs, there’s no telling how long they’ll hold. You have to be careful when you’re a genetic anomaly so I spend most of my time hiding in narrow hallways and peeking around corners. Hey, you have to play to your strengths.
I see other dogs having fun, chasing their tails. I can only dream. You think I can chase my tail? Well I can’t. Thanks for asking. My tail is so far away it’s in a different area code! (*rim shot*) Please don’t laugh at that. Your laughter only feeds my insecurity and leads to painful introspection. This would be funny if I were Odie from the Garfield comic strip. He’s a classic comic foil. But last time I checked, I wasn’t a cartoon character devoid of any actual emotion. I’m flesh and blood, people! If dogs could cry, I would be that dog.
I tell you what, you should print out my picture and then fold it up like the back page of a Mad Magazine until I look like a real dog. As a matter of fact, I’ll do that for you. Check this out:
That’s more like it. Maybe now I can get a date. I might have to do something about that unsightly line in the middle of my body but beggars surely cannot be choosers. Oh, a girl can dream.
This guy used to be the king of the block in my old neighborhood. He ruled the streets with an iron fist. Sure he’s a little guy but he’s got a bit of a Napoleon complex. He was like Joe Pesci in any Martin Scorsese movie. He’s steal your kibble just as soon as look at ya. But now look at him, the poor guy. Ever since some stinkin’ human put a hoodie on him he won’t leave the apartment. He just sits at home all day on his favorite doggie bed staring off into space, muttering over and over, “Get this thing offa me…get this thing offa me…I used ta be somebody…get this thing offa me”
I’m just saying he’s a shadow of his former self and it’s all due to the clothes. Us dogs all realize that it’s a human invention. If God had wanted us to wear clothes he wouldn’t have allowed us to grow our own. So next time it’s raining or it’s a wee bit cold outside, know that we can handle it. We have reputations to uphold. You wouldn’t want me putting dog-ears on you before you go to work would you? Or how about I make you a lunch of some Purina dog chow? Dogs and people are different and that’s what makes the world such a beautiful place.
Dog Henly Out!