Last Lesson For the Old Year

So its New Year's Eve, I am dressed in black tie and tail. I look sharp, sharper than usual, when dad asks me if I want to go out. Of course I want to go out. It’s a beautiful night out. It’s cool and clear, my kind of weather, the perfect weather for New Year's Eve.

And that’s when it happened, a couple of skeezers parked and got out of their car. Naturally I started wagging my tail and smiling at these bitches. They wanted me. They always do. They came right over to scratch me and I did my thing. Yet for some reason, the normally reliable wing dad wasn't playing along. After these bitches went on their way I did my biddeness and asked the parental unit why he was puppy blocking me, and he explained that you never pick up a chick wearing stripper glitter. When I asked why, he asked me if I wanted another bath this week, which of course I don't, and that’s when I realized that I got some of that shit on my fur. And to make matters worse, it doesn't come off. I have been licking at my fur for almost and hour, and its still there. Not only is Mom is gonna kill me, I am going to have a tough time explaining the stripper glitter to Shi-wa the Shi-zu. She's so shy as it is. So, if anyone has any good excuses, I need one ASAP, the wing dad wasn't too helpful this time. What the fuck do they put in stripper glitter? This stuff is like crazy glue. You would think they would make it come off easily so that guys don't get caught for going to the titty bar.

Guys Night Out

So mom took off to party in NYC ahead of the holidays. That left old man and me to our own devices. Not much debate on what to do with this opportunity. Dad got home from work, spiffed up and we didn't waste much time rollin into the city. Dad rocked out with jeans, a black shirt and his new black velvet Ralph Lauren sports coat. I of course went with my usual black fur coat. A hop, skip and a jump later we were in Georgetown. Mom was nice enough to leave her parking pass in the Benz, so we had some prime parking. Across the street was Morton's, so we went in for a drink. Dad had scotch; I went with some cold water, on the rocks. Later we went for dinner down the street. I was a little bit annoyed that we didn't stay at Morton's, since I was in the mood for a steak. However, since this wasn't the Capitol Grille, I wasn't too ticked off. We went to some joint down the street, the veal was ok, but the white chocolate dessert was excellent, even if it did end up all over my face. Dad cleaned me up before we left, and we headed down to M St to find some bitches. It was the usual Thursday night crowd. Lots of college chicks, who of course love me, but tend to travel in packs, like wild dogs, so in this case, having the Wing Dad around just wasn't enough. Lots of them said they wanted to take me home, but when we got down to brass tacks, they were all talk. Teases, every last one of them. So, after walking around a little, we headed over to the Ritz for some cocktails. In the lounge there, we met some tourons, who pretty much drove us from the place with idiotic questions and comments like, "I have never seen a talking dog before". Fucking hicks. Finally we left there and went back to Arlington, where the pickin's were much better. A quick stroll past my favorite Williams Sonoma, and voila, snacks and shacks. Williams Sonoma had some kind of cake samples that were ok, and a quick shack up with a westie. It was kindda nice, the waspy bitch wanted it done and over with faster than I did. Its nice not to have to make excuses in order to get out of there quickly, like, "I have to go home and take out my contacts or I'll get an eye infection". I got that one from my dad, he says its from his college days. Anyway, it took a little work and running around, but it was nice night out for the boys in black.

What happened to fall?

Seriously, I don't know what you people did to the environment, but unfuck things, right now. Nobody needs to get their panties in a bunch, I am neither pro nor anti global warming. Just leave me and my owners alone when we're walking in Georgetown. Like fall seemed to last like 2-3 weeks. Its one of my favorite times of the year. The weather is perfect in the fall, especially if you were born with a fur coat. I live for the end of September, October and November. Unfortunately, September was hot. October was hot, November was warm, until midday on the Super Bowl of eating. I remember it distinctly, we went for a walk on Thanksgiving morning, it was perfect, the sun was shining, the leaves were turning, it was a perfect morning for lounging around, watching football and begging my head off for fresh roasted turkey. Then boom, right as we were headed to grandma's house, things turned ugly, and for the most part, its been uber shitty ever since. Not that I want to see 3' of snow like they had in Chicago, but its going to be as cold as the proverbial witches tit, I want some snow. There is nothing like getting off the leash and running wild in the snow. When I need a sweater on top of my fur coat, to go outside, its cold. Thats a fact.

I really feel gypped. Less than a month of cool, dry fall and we're into winter. I hate the winter, its cold, there aren't many long walks and the heat makes my skin dry. I hate going to the mall to get something keep my coat looking good and my skin feeling good. Everyone stares and points, like they have never seen a 0' 9" metro yorkie poo before. Spring is nice, it beats having to go out and take a leak on a snow bank, but I don't care for the pollen and I hate the rain. And then summer starts. Summer in DC sucks. It absolutely sucks. Its hot, humid and generally kindda stinky. Not in a Jacksonville kind of stink. Its just plain unpleasant. Not to mention how the humidity makes my fur smell. There is nothing worse than being a stinky P, which means I am getting tossed in the shower, regardless of how I feel about the situation. So really, all the leaves for me are a few weeks of fall which are optimal.

Perhaps I should drown my sorrows in some Olde Biscuit 800 and then go visit the Yorkie sisters or Shi-wa. Perhaps a date to the Williams Sonoma for some samples will get Shi-wa to stop playing hard to get.

The Great White Loofa Hunter

Ok, so I haven't posted in a while. I know bitches everywhere are wondering where I have been. Worry not, dear friends, no ills have befallen me, I was simply on vacation. This year's Hanukkah gift was a Loofa hunting expedition in deep, dark, south Arlington. I must admit, I was a bit perturbed when I found out that my parental units went off the list and got me something that I hadn't asked for or even talked about. However, I will admit, I was quite tickled at this gift. It showed me how much my parents loved me and understood me. I love hunting Loofa. Loofas come in all sizes and colors. Some even come as stretchy toys. You really have to love Loofa. What other single toy is going to provide me with squeeky end, a crunchy middle and a quacking back end. They really are the best out there.

We caught several Loofas on this expedition. I have to say that I have never had this level of success in hunting Loofa. We caught several medium sized Loofas, like the picture above, a few small Loofa that we had to let go and even one rare blue, giant Loofa. The rarest of all known Loofa. It took me several hours to corner the giant blue Loofa and subdue him. It was really quite an amazing experience to hunt Loofa in the wild. Its one thing to go to Pet Smart and stalk them on aisle 5 next to the wee-wee pads, but quite another to be prowling the wilds of Arlington VA with Juan Valdez and his trusty goat Pablo. The Loofas are native to south Arlington, although in recent ears they have become migratory, like coconuts.

The accommodations were first class, to say the least, I was picked up in a super stretch Escalade limo and taken to The Ritz in Pentagon City. The room was very nice and the club level amenities were not to be passed upon. They actually put out 5 spreads of food daily, including a very nice presentation of Solid Gold brand dog biscuits. Every night they put out a selection of local micro brew beers, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Gordon Biersch, Capitol City Brewery, Old Dominion Brewery, etc. I really liked the Old Dominion Oak Barrel Stout. It was really nice to get some scrambled eggs for breakfast and then hustle out on safari to bag some Loofa and then come back to my room for a bottomless plate of Cinna-bones before filling up on beer. It’s a dog's life. Unfortunately I do not have much vacation left to use up this year, I might take a long weekend to my country home in the mountains of Maryland, but other than that, I am going to have to accrue some vacation, and work my dog butt off to make sure that there are no shenanigans coming from the other side of the fence where Jada and her skeezer friends hang out plotting to steal my stash of Sum Dum Cat.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Well not really. I much prefer the white shoes season, ya know, Memorial Day through Labor Day. It’s the time of year when there are BBQs galore at everyone's house. I love freshly grilled beef. But in lieu of skeezers at DTrain's Bar & Hoochie House, I like this time of year. Its cool out, the air is clear and brisk; for once I am glad to be wearing a fur coat, even if it isn't as nice as dad’s new coat. There is nothing like a cool day, lying in front of the window on my side sipping some Olde Biscuit 800.

I like to get up around noon or so and go across the street for a little manage a trois with the Yorkie Sisters, because that’s how I roll, and if I happen to have a little too much Olde Biscuit 800 and I am feeling ballsey, I will stop at Shi-wa's on the way home. No more booty calls for that bitch Jada though, I quit her and that’s that. There are lots more bitches in the hood, who aren't cougars.

So I have been thinking for the last week or so about what my next dot puppy dog could be and I have been thinking that this is a pretty good idea. I have been thinking about rounding up some of my best friends and starting a wing doggy service. Everyone knows that bitches love a good lookin doggy like me, so I figure that if I were to pimp myself and my friends out at say $75 hour I can do pretty well, especially if I take a cut of their earnings. Just think how many guys need just a tiny bit of help meeting hot bitchs out on the street. I have to figure a wing doggy could up a guy's closing rate to well over 75%. The chickies of DC would never see it coming. Dudes could pass themselves off as all caring, nice and sensitive. Even cat people would be able to get over. I like this idea. I am not sure when, but keep an eye out for my next venture, WingPuppy.com.

Its that time of year.

The holiday season always kicks off with the owners birthday. Knowing that I was on the hook for a gift, I whipped out my Metro card, not that it ever gets swiped. For some reason, Metro doesn't make any allowances for someone who is zero foot nine to swipe a Metro card, so I still have my starting $20 on the card. Anyway I decided to head over to the Barnes & Noble in Clarendon. Its right next to the Williams Sonoma with the good samples, so I stopped in, sampled some sweet and sour grilled beef. The guy there was trying to sell me some sort of indoor grill. I wasn't really interested. A lot of people might be, because they live in apartments, but we have a house and have a grill outside, and the owner isn't shy about firing it up in any weather conditions, to cook some steak, so I told the guy that I would pass, but I did pick up some of that beef marinate and I had a some of that peppermint bark that they sell at this time of year. Then I headed over to the Barnes & Noble to get dad Michael Jackson's Complete Guide to Single Malt Scotch. I figure he will like this book. The man can drink scotch like I crunch Cinnabones.

After picking up the book, I headed back to the Metro. Of course I stopped in at Williams Sonoma for some more of that grilled beef, but the bitchy queen of a dude was running the grill and I only got one piece from him, even though I was already carrying a Williams Sonoma bag. You would think you get some courtesy from these people when you spend money in their store, but this guy just doesn't like me. He must not like straight dogs. Anyway I caught the metro home, I really need to get a car and drivers license. I gave the outside perimeter a once over and headed inside to wrap dads gift, which is no small task when you don't have opposable thumbs. You have to be vigilent, when there is a bitch like Jada living right next door. That crazy bitch is always up something. She's always running some kind of caper, there are always people coming and going. Its that kind of traffic that makes it really hard on a watch dog like me.

Dad did pretty well for his birthday, he got some cigar stuff that he was raving about loving as well as some smokes that he seemed to like. Cigars aren't my thing, but the old man loves cigars and scotch like I like filet squares and cheese burgers. The thing that I liked was his new velvet sports coat from Ralph Lauren. Its a nice coat, a really nice coat, it might even be nicer than my coat. Anyway, he will look good when he takes me out in Georgetown to meet snooty bitches. We'll have to get him out and about to show the thing off. Perhaps I should asked for a new coat. A velvet dog coat or perhaps a velvet smoking jacket. I wanna look like Hugh Hefner, since I already have more hotter bitches than he does. Gotta love what Viagra does for the guy!

I love the holidays, the Yorkie Sisters are always in good spirits, although they were away this weekend, so I hung with my crew and of course the family. After a 4 day weekend, I am pretty tired, but I did want to write a little and remind everyone what I might like for Hanukkah. This year I took a new approach, I posted my list on MyGiftList.com. I am looking for the usual stuff, a bitches love me shirt, some treats and a phat new pad. Actually, I have a pretty nice pad, but I was amazed at what people will spend money on. PT Barnum was right. Now I just need to find an angle and start up a dot puppy dog and see if I can make a few million bucks.

So anyway, that’s it, that’s what going on. If your looking for me, I turned the ringer on my phone off and will be spending the day in bed catching up, because I only got about 12 hours of sleep a day this weekend, its far less than usual.

Peanut Out.

Christ, I can't believe I said that. Ryan Seapest is such a tool bag.

Miscellaneous Musings

In so far as there hasn’t been much going on, I have been uber busy lately. Some how it doesn’t matter whether its one big task like security training and upgrades or small tasks like making sure K & T’s contractors stay on their side of the walk way the days get over filled on a regular basis. So rather than write about major events, here’s a recap of what I have been up to for the last week or so.

1 Star
Last weekend I had to stay in some one star accommodations. ONE FUCKING STAR. I have never seen anything like this. It all started with someone at Union Station accusing me of being a dog. All because I don’t have opposable thumbs. Plenty of people lack opposable thumbs, but for some reason this slack jawed yokel from PG County insisted that I couldn’t go on the train. I was going to my cousin’s wedding in Connecticut. Anyway, mom and dad found some accommodations though my doctor. While the food was my usual, the portion control was beyond absurd. I’m in good shape; I can run down a squirrel any day of the week. They didn’t give me any treats and the room was small and smelly. After a couple of days of being bitter, I have blocked out the experience. We’re not going to talk about it again. I am sure my therapist will bring it up, but I might have to have the guy clipped. Anyway, I looked up J & R's registry and sent them the nut cups they registered for. I thought it was a kind of ironic gift if you know what I am talking about.

The Contractor
Well, K & T finally took my advice and got a contractor to take care of their squirrel problem. I warned them that those little critters wouldn’t go away, but they didn’t listen. And just like I said, they came back. Finally, T agreed with my assessment of the situation and called Ghostbusters a contractor. Anyway, this guy shows up last week around 11am one day and immediately sets up shop right in front of our house. I was barking up a storm. I was trying to tell this hick from bumblefuck that was on our property and across the line of what I thought was acceptable. He didn’t listen and I got tired of barking, so I told him that he better clean his shit up and that he better stay away from that bitch next door, because if I catch him helping her out, I was gonna call the fuzz on all of them. Just to play it safe, I went upstairs to my security kit, and got my intruder detection laser sensors, which I keep right next to my finger printing kit. No way am I gonna let that opportunistic bitch, Jada, get over on me again.

Visitors
No, not that horrible 1980s mini-series, but real live houseguests. J & S came for a visit, they come a couple of times a year. J is a real smart ass, but since he usually scratches me, I let him slide on some of his antics. However, on Friday, he was particularly annoying. He called several times and I didn’t feel like answering the phone, they guy can talk forever, and the last thing I want is someone calling when I have the Yorkie Sisters over. Anyway, he keeps leaving messages on the answering machine, talking to me, saying the magic words like treat or greenie. Mean while I am sitting there thinking … dumbass, I can go downstairs and crack open a can of Olde Biscuit 800 when ever I want, I don’t need some wise guy from NYC to mess with my head.

The Bag
Mom, Dad, J & S came home on Saturday night with a big bag from The Palm. I was slightly disappointed since usually my parents getting dressed up on a Saturday night and coming home with a bag means the Capitol Grille. Alas, The Palm would do. Dad left me a healthy bit of meat on the bone from his porterhouse. I was grateful and I enjoyed it, and I will enjoy the leftovers tonight. Once again, J tried to be a smartass and pull one over on me, but I know better. He said he had a bone in ribeye and that it wasn’t very good. First off, I have never heard of a bone in ribeye. Second, The Palm doesn’t serve shit. Third and lastly, I know the guy is an epic eater, he has more stomachs than cow and he probably just didn’t save me any. Heck, he probably had chicken or something else lame like that. Don’t worry J, I understand and I will remember this the next time you wanna share a greenie with me. I got your number buddy and I am coming for ya! Just wait till I get your kid finger paints or a drum set. A Yorkie Poo never forgets.

So that it, thats whats been keeping me busy.

Cougars : Not Just Cats & Old Broads

So last night after the owner got home, we went for a walk, and I guess he wasn't satisfied with my progress. What can I say, when you gotta go, you gotta go. And when you don't you don't. So in an effort to help nature along, he decides to take me for a long walk, several streets over from my 'hood. I am a little unsure of where things are going, its an older area and I was a tad bit uncomfortable, especially since the wind was howling. You try and take care of biddness when there is a 30 MPH cross wind blowing across your junk. Anyway, no sooner than I start getting the urge to mark some territory, out comes this old broad with her old German Shepard. Of course, the owner stops so that we can get acquainted. Because he thinks that I like all bitches. This bitch was like twice my height and had to have 40 lbs on me. Not to mention being twice my age. I don't dig old broads, all they want is some young stud, and that’s definitely me, STUD! So while the owner makes idle chit chat, while he waits for me to knock one off, I am running for my life. This old bitch keeps presenting me for. Of course I am flattered, but the last thing I need is a ride that has to lower itself like a bus picking up an old lady on the corner. She kept trying to back up under me, that’s some sight, lemme tell you. I felt like I was starring in Master P and the Cougar of Doom with Harrison Ford. Eventually, the owner decided that I must have been done by now and we went on our way. Thank god. Shortly there after, when I couldn't hold it anymore, I did my biddness and we headed home. Of course we ran into someone else walking a dog. This guy had a 10-year-old sheltie. And once again, she was digging me, I tried to pull on the leash to get my owner to skip this encounter, but he wasn't having it. He gets all proud when I do my big, tough dog, stud routine so we had to stop and talk. Mabel the sheltie actually tried to give me hummer right there in the middle of the street. I eventually growled at her and the owner took that as a hint that I was getting pissed off and wanted to go home. This other neighborhood is defiantly not for me. It was like the Running of the Cougars, and I was obviously the guest of honor. I need to chat with the owner and let him know I was not digging the walk we took last night.

I think I will perhaps go pay the Yorkie sisters a visit this afternoon and then lie on my side watching Hogan's Heroes reruns while dreaming of a world filled with Filet Squares.

Meet My Crew

G-Money, Chubby and Ducky in the VIP room at Pure in Las Vegas.

G-Money is the quiet one, but you always gotta watch out for the quiet ones. G-Money got kicked out of school for boozing naked with the dean's daughter and her roomate. What can you say? My man has game, but no common sense. Getting your nude on in the football stadium is neither smart nor original. The cops patrol every hour and it’s hard to miss a naked giraffe and 2 coeds passed out on the 50 yard line. That was pretty much a game over situation for G-Money. After school G-Money hung out in the old neighborhood, mostly doing odd jobs and tax preparation in the spring while avoiding getting into trouble. What do expect for a guy who was 15 credits short of an Accounting degree from Yale. Not what you would expect from the Grand Puba of Skull & Bones. Fortunately, I got home from AC Milan in the nick of time to take care of him. Now he drives the car and mostly keeps his mouth shut. Or perhaps he's just quiet, most accounting majors were.

Chubby is the trouble maker of the bunch. Chubby played offensive line at Rutgers where he had a scholarship and studied chemistry. All he ever did was blow the roof of the chem lab his sophomore year. Fortunately, the dean's board of review found that it was just an accident and more likely a result of poor supervision on the part of the TA. The TA got axed and Chubby kept his mouth shut. I know better, dude was always reading ahead and what not. So I am sure he was more culpable than he let on, but anything is better than getting spanked with a $94,000 damage tab. How the hell do you explain that to mom and dad? No way, get your ass to McDonalds and start flipping burgers with Parent of the Year nominee, Kevin Federline. Now Chubby sticks to mixing drinks and occasionally throwing M-80s at the neighborhood squirrels. Occasionally the guy does get out of hand and I just have to chew on his head and toss him around the living room, especially when I can't find my IQube & squeaky balls.

Ducky is a strange dude. He turned down swimming scholarships to every major college program. He probably could have gone to the Olympics had it not been for an unfortunate incident involving one of Chubby's concoctions and some banned stimulants. He choose to go to perennial top 10 party school Slippery Rock. He ended up with a degree in Animal Husbandry. Like that was much of a challenge for him. Rumor has it that he is running the best genetics lab on the east coast, but he never seems to answer the question when I put it to him. I am going to see if I can catch him testifying as an expert witness at OJ's next trial. Anyway, when he is around, he's a yes man. I can always count on him wanting to do what ever I want to do, whenever I wanna do it. He's usually egging me on to take him over to the Yorkie sister's house, since they have nice new plush platypus squeaky toy that he wants to get funky with.

So there it is, this is my posse. These are the squeaky toys that I grew up with and spend most of my time with.

Who Am I & Where Am I From?

So, some of you wanted a little background on me. I was born at the Mount Airy MD Puppy Farm. About 3 months after I was born, my future Mom would show up. She was diggin this other bitch from my litter, and I knew what she was trying to do, so she came over to check me out, I knew I had to turn the 'puppy cute' on to win her over, because I could tell, this lady who would become my Mom was special. Anyway, I nibbled on the collar of her jacket and she caved right in. I knew I had her in the bag, I even winked at that other bitch. Anyway after she took me home, she enrolled me at Georgetown Pup School, in North Bethesda MD.

At Georgetown Pup I excelled in math, physics and most of the canine arts classes. I also performed well on the soccer and track teams at Georgetown Pup. My academics combined with my extra club activities got me a full scholarship to Brown University. There was no Black University to get into, so Brown was the closest thing for me. If you look closely in some of my pics, you'll even notice that my fur is taking on a bit of a brown hue. How’s that for school spirit? Any way I earned a Masters degree in Canine Arts.

After graduation I had a number of opportunities to go to work for big companies like Booz Allen, Accenture, Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, Brown Brothers Harriman. The job at Brown Brothers Harriman was especially interesting, but I had had enough of Brown, I was really looking for something else. I thought about backpacking across Europe or Asia, but I am far too concerned with my creature comforts to "rough" it. So I parlayed my soccer talents into a try out with the Brazilian national soccer team where I caught on. I couldn't miss, as a Yorkie Poo, the coach, named Dunga, couldn't resist having me on his squad, where I paired in the midfield with one of my closest friends in the world Kaká who also got me a job playing midfield at AC Milan, one of Europe's most storied and successful clubs.

After a few years of that, I grew tired of having to chase grown men around the soccer field, although there were ton's of bitches following us around. I believe that you call them groupies. So upon my retirement I returned home a relaxing job in home security where I live the good life off of my investments and my Platinum American Express Card.

So thats where I have been and what I have done. I am not quite as well traveled as Forrest Gump, but I have been some places and done some things. Know what I mean. Now I live semi-retired out side of Washington DC. Look me up if you ever in town, I love to hang out, drink some beers and meet some bitches.

I Am Putting My Paw Down

I don't know what you people were thinking. Matter of fact I don't know what anyone was thinking when they came up with this.

Seriously? WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? Does anyone know? The label on the bag I pulled out of the trash said that its a Halloween costume. I can't go out Trick or Treating in that. Somebody will hit me with a bat thinking that the nice little dog down the street was infested by some kind of alien. The only thing scarier that being infested by aliens is having to deal with Sigourney Weaver. Honestly, I can see them chasing me down like I was Frankenstein. They will come after me with torches, axes and clubs. I don't need that kind of BS. I can go as the same thing as I did last year and the year before that.

I got lotsa bitches in that outfit. Spidey does pretty well in that outfit too, especially considering what a skinny little dork he is. There is no way in real life Tobey McGuire gets Kirsten Dunst unless he's got that suit on. And I will vouch for the power of the Spiderman suit. It works way better than Batman, Superman or even Aquaman. Vinney Chase might need the Aquaman suit to close the deal, but not me. I personally think he could pull it off without the suit. I think we look a lot alike. Don't you?

So anyway, vote in the old poll before it expires and definitely vote in my new poll.

Hey Bitches!!!

Vote in the poll, how do you expect a guy to know how you like it without any feedback!

An Unexpected Discovery

My dad is the coolest wing-person on the face of the earth. The other day, while my parents were out running around shopping and shit, they do that a lot, and for some reason, the places where they shop think I am a dog and have a no dogs allowed policy. Please! Seriously?!?! WTF, bitches? I am smarter than your honor student and I will kick the shit out of any honor student, bookworm, geek. Its the dumb kid who gets the "I have wonderful kid @ blah blah blah Elementary School" bumper sticker that I get worried about. But I digress. They came home from shopping with a new car for me. Defiantly an upgrade from past rides. They got a Mercedes Benz C300. Yea booooy we roll like 'dat!

Anyway, after Mom went to some movie premiere thing, (like I said, that’s how we roll!) Dad took me for a drive in my new car and of course we scored, well actually I scored and my dad showed off his wing-person skills. We met a couple of bitches in Clarendon, not far from the dog park. My bitch was a lovely Pomeranian named Sheena. Hairy bitch don't ya know, but not as hairy as her mom's upper lip. I couldn't believe my dad would go so far out there to help me out, but after a little butt sniffin, Sheena decided that we were good to go, so off we went while the parental units chatted it up. After a quickie out back of the dog park we got back to the owners before they knew were even gone. Sheena's owner sneezed and looked like a party favor, she had so much hair on her upper lip. Anyway after a few more pleasantries we went our separate ways, and that’s when Dad let me know I owed him one for taking out the grenade.

Wow! My Dad is cool. Now I just have to convince him to lend me the keys to that phat new Benzo sitting in the driveway!

Best Laid Plans ....

Laid, yea right. It’s a beautiful fall day here in our nations capitol. The sun is shining; there isn't a cloud in the sky. The landscapers were here yesterday so there would be nothing to interrupt a nice day that I was going to spend in the yard, sipping Sapphire & tonic while I waited for one of my bitches to come over.

Anyway I wake up this morning, a little later than usual, because the owner forgot to set his alarm clock. Realizing that he's going to be late, I try to wake him up. I get up on the side of the bed and tap him on the arm, and he tells me to go away, and I tell him that he's gonna be late for work. At that point he tells me he's taking the day since he is sick with the stomach flu. SHIT!!! Really, shit. His staying home all day shitting really shit fucks my plans to get some. Anyway after mom left for work, I explained the situation to him, and he was pretty cool about things. He offered me his car to go down to Alexandria, to visit my gumar. When I said that I didn't have a drivers license, he said, oh just like Brittany Spears. I tried to look annoyed with him, but in the end, he was right. I don't have a drivers license, I have an addiction problem (granted we're talking about Cinna-bones rather than crack), I don't wear underwear, but I am a dog, I am not really supposed to wear any clothes. Although I do wear my CBGB shirt that Debbie Harry gave me when I was at her last show before the place closed down.

Anyway, I think I will make the owner pay for messing up my day, but getting him to take me on walks every hour on the hour.

Sigh.

It’s a dog's life.

It had to happen sooner or later

Well, it finally happened. It was bound to happen sooner or later and at last, I got caught sleeping on the job. The owners went out last night for a couple of hours. Really? Who goes out late on a Sunday night, in the middle of NBCs, pathetic coverage of the Packers game? It’s not like they were going to someone's house to watch the Giants game, which they won, and played at 1PM. So here I am getting all comfortable, snuggling into my owners spot on the bed when they start getting dressed. I am thinking to myself, sure I know you don't like when I sleep on your spot and make the pillows smell like popcorn, but that’s no reason to leave.

Anyway, I made a few booty calls, but I couldn't get Jada, Shi-wa the shih-tzu or the Yorkie sisters to come over. I think I prolly coulda gotten some had I gone over to the Yorkie sisters place, but I really wasn't in the mood to go out. I really wanted to sit home with a container of Cinna-bones and watch reruns of the AKC Westminster Dog Show on USA Network. So, I did what all dogs do when left to their own devices. I licked myself for a while and took a nap. I knew all the doors were locked, so there wasn't much chance of Jada coming by to steal the Calphalon Wok for cooking Sum Dum Cat.

As I lay sprawled out, in my owners spot on the bed, dreaming of Cinna-bones jumping over a fence, I started hearing a little voice saying that I fucked up. The voice was right. Damn right I fucked up, I should have been counting Filet Squares jumping over the fence. They taste damn good, better than Cinna-bones that’s for sure. Anyway the voice is getting louder and all of a sudden the lights in the bedroom come on. WTF!!! I was sleeping. There is there owner, standing there looking at me like he caught me doing something that I shouldn't have been doing. I guess technically there is a clause in my contract that requires me to stay awake on the job, but they have never really enforced it. Anyway, I was slightly dazed, but I composed myself and went downstairs for my evening walk, I didn't put up much of a fight like I usually do, especially since its still warm out. There is nothing worse than trying to drop a dookie on a snow bank when the wind is howling and its 14° outside. So I do my biddness outside and return home for a treat. I was hoping the owners had forgotten about the sleeping thing, but they didn't. All I got for late night treats were a couple of lousy Dyna-bones and then lights out.

A Simple Misunderstanding

You can call it whatever you want. On Sunday morning, I thought I was getting taken to my gumar, I keep a girlfriend down in Alexandria. What the owners said was groomer. Groomer, gumar, its sounds awfully similar. Perhaps I needed the hair in my ears trimmed. Anyway, I am understandably wound up when they put the leash on me and head out to the car. I am jumping around, pulling on the leash. Generally I am as psyched as a guy who is gonna get some can be. Everything was going well, we were going the right way. There would be no getting lost this time. Then as we get close to our destination, the pull into the turning lane. I know this shopping center, and not for good reasons either. My tail goes down, because I can see the groomer's sign from the road. Shoot, I have been suckered. That’s exactly what I was thinking. I can't believe it, its a beautiful day outside. The kind of day when you don't mind wearing a fur coat, but its not too cold either. GRRRRRRRRRRRR! I could have been home waiting to bark at K & T along with the other neighbors cat. With my morning wasted in a cage waiting to get clipped, I tried to figure out if I knew anyone. The only one who would talk to me was a Westie with tattoos and dreads, not really my kind of bitch, for a number of reasons. There was this white Bolognese puppy there who all the bitches were going nuts over, they loved is accent. He was a bit off his game, he was really worried about getting clipped. I guess where he is from, Italy, getting clipped means something else. Anyway, I decided to nap, until it was my turn to get clipped, bathed and dryed. It isn't my favorite way to blow an afternoon, but at least the groomer didn't have cold hands.

So after 3-4 hours, the owners come back to get me, they are glad to see me, and they have no idea how glad I am to see them. I know that they are always coming back, but there are certain abandonment issues that I am still working through with my therapist. I don't really remember much, but the therapist says its going to take a long time, read as, a lot of money to work through. Whatever, I aught to introduce that guy to the Bolognese's idea of getting clipped. Wrought with guilt my owners stuffed me full of treats when we got home, and I spent the rest of the day popping dog biscuits like amphetamines. Quite frankly, I would have rather just skipped the groomer, gone to my gumar's and come home for a light dinner before bed time. O well next time. I am going to have to figure out the bus schedule and if I wanna get to down to see my gumar. I guess I will have to be content with threesomes with the yorkie sisters. I guess there is something to be said for dating a bitch who is geographically desirable.

Its sure not easy being a 0'9" yorkie poo.

Got away with it & I took care of the bitch

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!

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.

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.

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.