We'll just put the great knife caper in my wake. Nobody noticed the knife swap. Of course. Who bitches about a nice new sharp knife? I think I will spend this afternoon laying on my side, on the nice cool leather couch.
Last night around 3:30 I gave Jada a call. Ya know, a booty call. I played it all cool and acted like nothing happened and of course she invited me over, she likes my doggy style. Don't forget to vote in my poll, to the left. So I hung out for like half an hour. I wanted her to wait, so that she knows that I am in charge. Then I got there, cracked a 40 of Olde Biscuit 800 and we got to chillin, she was getting kindda worked up and that’s when I decided to bail on her, and let her know that I knew what was going on and I was quitting her. She tried to tell me that nobody quits her, but of course we know that’s not the case.
And just to put the icing on the cake, on my way out the door, in the kitchen, I snagged back the knife. I'll replace it, and put the new one back in the box and take it back to Williams Sonoma later this week and get my money back. And I will be sure to get some more samples while I am there. Stupid bitch though she could pull a fast one on Master P. Ha, showed her huh? Bitch!
Friday, September 28, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Tough days on the job
While my owner’s complain about having to park on the street because the lot is being repaved, they are totally insensitive to my daily grind. They have no idea just how taxing it is to be on high alert for several hours on back-to-back days. The HOA is resurfacing the parking lot, so for several hours yesterday and today, there was a great deal going on, which actually distracted me from my normal guard dog patrol duties. More on that later.
It started early yesterday, perhaps 10AM I was upstairs sleeping in the middle of the bed, since someone left a pillow right there for me to rest on. The bed is excellent, its a Simmons Beauty Rest model with a 6" pillow top, like this one. I find it very comfortable, especially now that its low enough that I can easily hop on or off. So this amazing ruckus begins around 10, I figured it was the landscapers, they come a couple times a year, I bark at them and let them know I am on the job, but for the most part, I can trust them, they know better than to mess with my hizzhouse. We have an understanding. Anyway I get to my forward observation point on the arm of the couch and I peer out the window. I see that the neighbors cat is already up and watching. I hate that cat. I can't see a whole lot, because my house is down a short walkway, but I catch a glimpse of a couple of guys doing something in the parking lot, I can hear them chatting as well as an air compressor or some other kind of power equipment going. This goes on for about 2-3 hours, it was very stressful to have strangers in close proximity doing all sorts of odd things. The Yorkie sisters, Skyler and Layla, must be losing their minds, they are yappy bitches who live across the parking lot and have a direct view of everything going on. Finally after at least 3 hours, the racket that’s going on subsides, so I figure before I go back upstairs for a nap, I should probably give the grounds a once over.
Thats when I discovered it, we had a break in. My dad's favorite Wusthof knife is missing from the knife block. Holy crap, we've had a break-in, my mind is racing, I immediately begin checking the perimeter and I find that the back door is slightly ajar. I immediately starting taking pictures and preserving the crime scene. I go upstairs to my closet and get my finger printing kit. I find several sets of prints, mine, my moms, my dads and one set that I can't quite identify. I upload scans of the print to my crime database, and one match comes back. Its the bitch next door. I knew that bitch was bad news the first time I shacked up with her. Jada is a 3 year old Pug. I have no idea what I saw in that bitch, well actually I do, but I can't really talk about that here. ;) I check out the outside of her place, she has it locked up nice and tight. Not wanting to risk the embarrassment of a failed seek and recover mission, I decide my best move to maintain my position is to replace the knife and act like nothing happened when mom & dad get home. I will deal with that bitch later. After all, the last thing dad says to me every day is, "be a good dog and watch out for the Wusthof and Calphalon, that stuff is expensive".
Anyway, I snag my metro card and head for the metro, its only a couple of blocks away. Fortunately, there is a Williams Sonoma just a couple of blocks from the Clarendon metro. At Williams Sonoma I sampled some Halloween cookies and apple cider. I kept getting some strange looks from the bitchy guy behind the counter, but once he realized I was there to make a purchase, he lightened up. Its always the bitchy queens who give me a hard time. On the other hand, bitches love me. Anyway after filling up on free samples, which have neither calories nor fat, just like crumbs, I went and got the replacement knife. When I reached for my wallet, my heart almost stopped. I had forgotten that I been rolled this morning and dad stole my wallet. Fortunately I always keep a couple of benny's in my front pocket. A little trick I learned from watching Vegas Do's and Don'ts on the Travel Channel. Anyway, back to the metro and home to make sure nobody notices that screwed up and thinks that I wasn't doing my job.
Then today, the same crap starts around 7. Fortunately this time I knew what was going on. As soon as I confirmed that it was the guys re-tarring the parking lot, I decided to chance it and station myself near the back door, where I could still see the front door to make sure nobody tried to pull a fast one. At one point I heard that bitch Jada sniffing around the back door, but I scared her off with my ferocious bark. She was probably coming back from the Calphalon wok, its everyone’s favorite pot for cooking Sum Dum Cat.
I think I will take it easy this afternoon and wait for the owners to come home, its been 2 trying mornings in a row, I need a Cinabone and a beer.
It started early yesterday, perhaps 10AM I was upstairs sleeping in the middle of the bed, since someone left a pillow right there for me to rest on. The bed is excellent, its a Simmons Beauty Rest model with a 6" pillow top, like this one. I find it very comfortable, especially now that its low enough that I can easily hop on or off. So this amazing ruckus begins around 10, I figured it was the landscapers, they come a couple times a year, I bark at them and let them know I am on the job, but for the most part, I can trust them, they know better than to mess with my hizzhouse. We have an understanding. Anyway I get to my forward observation point on the arm of the couch and I peer out the window. I see that the neighbors cat is already up and watching. I hate that cat. I can't see a whole lot, because my house is down a short walkway, but I catch a glimpse of a couple of guys doing something in the parking lot, I can hear them chatting as well as an air compressor or some other kind of power equipment going. This goes on for about 2-3 hours, it was very stressful to have strangers in close proximity doing all sorts of odd things. The Yorkie sisters, Skyler and Layla, must be losing their minds, they are yappy bitches who live across the parking lot and have a direct view of everything going on. Finally after at least 3 hours, the racket that’s going on subsides, so I figure before I go back upstairs for a nap, I should probably give the grounds a once over.
Thats when I discovered it, we had a break in. My dad's favorite Wusthof knife is missing from the knife block. Holy crap, we've had a break-in, my mind is racing, I immediately begin checking the perimeter and I find that the back door is slightly ajar. I immediately starting taking pictures and preserving the crime scene. I go upstairs to my closet and get my finger printing kit. I find several sets of prints, mine, my moms, my dads and one set that I can't quite identify. I upload scans of the print to my crime database, and one match comes back. Its the bitch next door. I knew that bitch was bad news the first time I shacked up with her. Jada is a 3 year old Pug. I have no idea what I saw in that bitch, well actually I do, but I can't really talk about that here. ;) I check out the outside of her place, she has it locked up nice and tight. Not wanting to risk the embarrassment of a failed seek and recover mission, I decide my best move to maintain my position is to replace the knife and act like nothing happened when mom & dad get home. I will deal with that bitch later. After all, the last thing dad says to me every day is, "be a good dog and watch out for the Wusthof and Calphalon, that stuff is expensive".
Anyway, I snag my metro card and head for the metro, its only a couple of blocks away. Fortunately, there is a Williams Sonoma just a couple of blocks from the Clarendon metro. At Williams Sonoma I sampled some Halloween cookies and apple cider. I kept getting some strange looks from the bitchy guy behind the counter, but once he realized I was there to make a purchase, he lightened up. Its always the bitchy queens who give me a hard time. On the other hand, bitches love me. Anyway after filling up on free samples, which have neither calories nor fat, just like crumbs, I went and got the replacement knife. When I reached for my wallet, my heart almost stopped. I had forgotten that I been rolled this morning and dad stole my wallet. Fortunately I always keep a couple of benny's in my front pocket. A little trick I learned from watching Vegas Do's and Don'ts on the Travel Channel. Anyway, back to the metro and home to make sure nobody notices that screwed up and thinks that I wasn't doing my job.
Then today, the same crap starts around 7. Fortunately this time I knew what was going on. As soon as I confirmed that it was the guys re-tarring the parking lot, I decided to chance it and station myself near the back door, where I could still see the front door to make sure nobody tried to pull a fast one. At one point I heard that bitch Jada sniffing around the back door, but I scared her off with my ferocious bark. She was probably coming back from the Calphalon wok, its everyone’s favorite pot for cooking Sum Dum Cat.
I think I will take it easy this afternoon and wait for the owners to come home, its been 2 trying mornings in a row, I need a Cinabone and a beer.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Squirrels in the Roof, an Afternoon of Entertainment
So the neighbors, right across the way, I'll call them K & T. K is a blonde chick from WVa. She means well, but I don't think she gets it, she never seems to come over and talk. T on the other hand gets it, we usually chat whenever we see each other coming or going. He's a Redskins fan, which immediatly makes nervous, but for the most part I don't think he views me as the enemy. I'm a NY Giants & Mets fan.
Any way, they have some squirrels who have taken up residence in one of the spaces under their roof where the gutter has pulled away from house a little. No doubt the little fuckers were vandalizing the place. I barked at them, but they don't listen, they need a nice warm, winter home and I guess under someone elses roof is as good a place as any.
All afternoon, after my dad came home, I sat at the window waiting for mom to return. All these comings and goings, people looking up at the nest the squirrels were squatting in, trying to figure out what to do. For crying out loud, get a ladder, clean the little weasels out and tack the gutter back onto the house. If you've got dry rot, get yourself a contractor. Thats it, no big deal. To just call a contractor to come out and do that same thing guarantees that they are going to 'find' something to fix and charge you a grand or three. Even I know that, and I am just a dog. Sometimes I just don't get people. Why would anyone want to deal with this? Its much better to sit home, scratch yourself, lick yourself (jealous guys?) and snack on high end kibble while waiting for the owners to come home and lavish treats on me. To think, they think I am eating out of their hands. lol.
Today's count, peed outside 5 times, pooped outside twice. I managed to the BS the owners into forking over some extra Sold Gold brand Cinna-bones. Dyna-bones and Dragon's Teeth (who names these things? Really? Who thinks they are anything other than chicken flavored treats?) are nice, but the Cinna-bones are where its at. I don't think they have caught onto my routine of peeing and pooping on seperate walks so as to maximize my treat income.
Any way, they have some squirrels who have taken up residence in one of the spaces under their roof where the gutter has pulled away from house a little. No doubt the little fuckers were vandalizing the place. I barked at them, but they don't listen, they need a nice warm, winter home and I guess under someone elses roof is as good a place as any.
All afternoon, after my dad came home, I sat at the window waiting for mom to return. All these comings and goings, people looking up at the nest the squirrels were squatting in, trying to figure out what to do. For crying out loud, get a ladder, clean the little weasels out and tack the gutter back onto the house. If you've got dry rot, get yourself a contractor. Thats it, no big deal. To just call a contractor to come out and do that same thing guarantees that they are going to 'find' something to fix and charge you a grand or three. Even I know that, and I am just a dog. Sometimes I just don't get people. Why would anyone want to deal with this? Its much better to sit home, scratch yourself, lick yourself (jealous guys?) and snack on high end kibble while waiting for the owners to come home and lavish treats on me. To think, they think I am eating out of their hands. lol.
Today's count, peed outside 5 times, pooped outside twice. I managed to the BS the owners into forking over some extra Sold Gold brand Cinna-bones. Dyna-bones and Dragon's Teeth (who names these things? Really? Who thinks they are anything other than chicken flavored treats?) are nice, but the Cinna-bones are where its at. I don't think they have caught onto my routine of peeing and pooping on seperate walks so as to maximize my treat income.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Welcome to my pad
There isn't much to say right now. It’s a quiet afternoon in North Arlington VA, right outside of our nations capitol. I am a 6-year-old yorkie poo, named Master P. Yea, I know its a bitch, I'd love to be labador or even a highland terrier, but no, I have to sound like shit. We're gonna leave that one alone for a while, at least until my therapist and I get over some deep seeded issues I have with being a breed that sounds like shit. Guess its a good thing that I am not a shih tzu/poodle mix. I could just hear the jokes about being a shit poo.
Actually my name is Peanut ('P' for short), but a couple of years ago, while watching a Miami Dolphins game, the man who married my owner decided to start calling me Master P and blaming me for Ricky Williams shitty contract. What a dumb shit Ricky was. Its definatly helped my street cred when I am out for walks and meeting bitches in da 'hood. I go both ways I like 2 legged and 4 legged bitches. The 4 legged variety seem to be easier to get horizontal with, but the 2 legged ones are easier to deal with. The tend to have their own place, and they can reach the treat container up on the counter.
Actually my name is Peanut ('P' for short), but a couple of years ago, while watching a Miami Dolphins game, the man who married my owner decided to start calling me Master P and blaming me for Ricky Williams shitty contract. What a dumb shit Ricky was. Its definatly helped my street cred when I am out for walks and meeting bitches in da 'hood. I go both ways I like 2 legged and 4 legged bitches. The 4 legged variety seem to be easier to get horizontal with, but the 2 legged ones are easier to deal with. The tend to have their own place, and they can reach the treat container up on the counter.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
