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.
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Gettin lunch with the owners
This is a place where you get to see life though the eyes of an exceptionally priviledged little dog who is larger than life.
Just hangin'
Gettin lunch with the owners
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