My New Place

Ok, I haven’t been around for a while. I have been busy with a little home improvement project. I scored a sweet deal on a new dog house. Snoopy’s venerable red dog house was repossessed when he started missing payments on his home equity line of credit. I picked it up for a pittance. I have since totally redone the bedroom. The uplighting really contributes to the mood when I have bitches over and the canopy bed is always a hit with the ladies.
The game room is just your basic man cave, big TV, wet bar and pool table. I didn’t do much to it, although I have been thinking about redoing the walls with dark oak paneling.
I redid the kitchen and added all stainless appliances, granite counter tops and some lighting to make the kitchen seem more modern and friendly. Snoopy’s tastes were very retro 1970s, but not in an Austin Powers cool sort of way. He still had linoleum on the floors which I replaced with hardwoods to match the rest of the main level.
The pool is the last place I need to redo. I haven’t really figured out what I want to do with the space. It all looks like the inside of a sauna and I really want something a bit more upbeat. I was thinking of putting in a grotto with a waterfall?
What do you guys think of my place?

Attention Deficit Disorder

Boy did I get a lesson this week. I went to my therapist as usual, since I felt that I had this attention deficit disorder. I've been a little depressed and off my game lately. The Yorkie sisters and Shi-wa both have stay at home moms and they talk about getting walks, treats and lot of attention all day long. My parents work all day long, so that I can have the coolest puppy hizzhouse on the block. I can't really complain, I pretty much have everything a hip poo on the make could want.

In talking to my therapist, we discussed that I didn't actually have attention deficit disorder, just because I wanted more attention from my parents. At that point, I knew this session was going to be expensive, really expensive. As we began discussing my issues, I realized that I don't really have an attention deficit. In truth, if my parents were around more, I'd probably loose my shit, since they would totally be cramping my style. I like having time during the day to have the Yorkie sisters over, or some other bitches. Yea, sure I'd like to be scratched more often, but at what expense? Heck if my parents were around more often, I'd be out of a job as a watch dog.

In the end, I have discovered that happiness is what you make of it. It comes from within and I learned that I should be content with what I have, because there are a lot of less fortunate dogs out there. These dogs and cats have it tough. Some of them have lived on the streets for a long time and are lucky to ever get adopted. So today I am volunteering to help out the Lost Dog & Cat Rescue, by promoting their site and their cause, so the next time you find yourself out there looking at new high priced pure breds, consider adopting. So anyway, I've learned a valuable lesson and I have managed to find a way not to end up giving my therapist a zillion bucks to tell me something I should have known all along. I have it good and happiness comes from inside, except where Cinnabones are concerned. And bitches too.

Iron Puppy Dog : Battle Dog Food

I was recently asked to compete on the Food Networks Iron Chef in Battle Dog Food. Considering how well fed I am, I was anxious to accept the invitation. I knew that I would do well against any of the chefs, although I thought that Morimoto would be a tough challenge since he is so experienced with fish and thus probably pretty good at cat food, so I decided that I would challenge Iron Chef Bobby Flay. There isn’t much to beating Cat Cora and Chris Symon’s laugh is a little annoying, so it was a pretty easy choice, especially since I wasn’t sure if Morimoto would understand me when I walking shit across the kitchen.

Battle Dog Food left me with a lot of interesting options. I decided to open with a little amuse bouche where I softened some cheddar cheese over a toasted Dragon’s Tooth. Flay answered with a pureed roasted poblano pepper over steamed milk bones. I thought it was the stereotypical Bobby Flay dish and not all that creative on his part.

For the second course I made some freeze dried kobe beef that I dusted with bleu cheese crumbles and some fresh sweet potato frites. It was my take on steak fromage. Iron Chef Flay countered with a braised cow tail, which was a total rip off of Merricks Texas Toothpicks that he served with an Aji pepper mayo sauce.

The third course is where I think I really kicked Flay’s ass. I served some leg of lamb crusted in crushed Dynabones over a mash of creamed kibble. While Flay countered with a braised bully stick with a Serrano pepper marinate. Uncreative and really, who wants to eat cow dick? Even the man who ate everything, Jeffrey Steingarten, balked.

For the fourth course I served a simple, medium rare roasted, organic postman with a nice light beef jus and lemon grass steamed broccoli. Mo Rocca loved the postman. I don’t even know what Bobby Flay was thinking when he decided to make baked Greenies in a chocolate mole. Greenies aren’t that healthy for dogs and no dog should eat chocolate. He should have used carob. Ted Allen killed him for that.

The last course was dessert. I decided to stick with something a little more conservative. I made a Frosty Paws brûlée with a caramelized Cinnabone garnish, while Flay made a French vanilla ice cream infused with lamb patty with a Beggin Strip for dipping. He was totally playing to Stiengarten who will eat anything that even looks like bacon.

I feel pretty good about the challenge, but I will not know who won until the show airs. I think that I really kicked Bobby Flay's ass for taste and originality, but I know I didn't do well at plating. How in the hell am I supposed to compte with a guy who has opposable thumbs? Anyway, let me know how you think things went by voting in my current poll.

My Pet Peeves

Ironic that a dog has pet peeves, no?

1. Blaming your farts on me..... not funny... not funny at all Dad!
2. Yelling at me for barking. I'M A FRIGGIN' DOG
3. Taking me for a walk, then not letting me check stuff out. Exactly whose walk is this anyway? If I want to sniff every blade of grass that my perogative. I wonder what Bobby Brown would say.
4. Any trick that involves balancing food on my nose. Stop it! Actually having to work for treats in general is annoying.
5. Any haircut that involves bows or ribbons. Now you know why we chew your stuff up when you're not home. Actually any haircut or bath with blow drying is a major pain in the ass
6. The sleight of hand, fake fetch throw. You fooled a dog! Whoooo hoooooooo what a proud moment for someone with opposable thumbs.
7. Taking me to the vet for "the big snip", then acting surprised when I freak out every time we go back Mom!
8. Getting upset when I sniff the crotches of your guests. Sorry, but I haven't quite mastered that handshake thing yet. Again, we're going back the opposable thumbs thing.
9. Dog sweaters. Hello ??? Haven't you noticed the fur?
10. How you act disgusted when I lick myself. Look, we both know the truth. You're just jealous.

Its time For A Change

Well, for years, I have had a hard time getting served in restaraunts and hotel type places because I don't have opposable thumbs. Now I have reached the point where I just can't take it anymore and I have to do something about it. I know its drastic, but I think now is the time for me to go and have this revolutionary surgery. The Swedes have always been medical pioneers. I will be participating in an experimental study to help more dogs lead more human lives. I have always felt like a person trapped in a dog's body. Its difficult to get around when you can't grip a key to lock the door. And thats essential in my neighborhood, with all sorts of shady pugs around.

I just need to find a suitable donor. A few years ago, I had a deal in place with an infant from the neighborhood, to swap some teeth for a thumb, unfortunatly she started teething and that killed the deal. The one thing I am worried about, is finding a thumb with nice black fur like my own, but the Fur Club for Puppy Dogs says that its not too hard to grow new fur anyplace, so that shouldn't be too bad.

I'm not too scared, there are current 2 other dogs who who have received thumb transplants and both of them are doing well, opening doors, flipping through the pages of magazines and even participating at the upcoming Olympics in archery. I am not so sure that I want to compete in the Olympics, but it would be nice to get a drivers license or do some other cool stuff. I'd at least be able to thumb a ride to my goumar's house. I am sure there are a zillion other things I can do once I get my thumb transplant. So feel free to post here, what else I can do, once I get my new thumbs.

What should I do next?

Ok peeps, its time for you help. I have been working long and hard lately at coming up with my next venture to make a few bucks. A poo has to live you know. So, I am asking you, my loyal readers to vote in my current poll and help me figure out how to make some big bucks.

The first idea is an old one. I have been kicking the idea around for a while. What I want to do is start WingPuppy.com. The biddiness plan is simple. Get lots of good looking poo’s like myself to help out semi-lame guys pick up smoking’ hot bitches. The plan is simple, I am gonna pimp out my friends for $75 an hour to help guys pick up unsuspecting bitches in their ‘hood. Pro’s: Not a lot of work is needed on my part. Con’s: Even at $75/hour, its going to take some time before the cabbage starts rolling in.

My next idea is to write a best selling book on how to win Dance Dance Revolution for the Wii. I figure everyone who has a Wii will need this book to win the game. I figure knowledge like this will be indispensable to all of man kind. I can sell this book for $29.95. While the margins might be a little low for my typical enterprises, I think I can make up the difference in sheer volume. I was thinking for calling the book “Winning DDR: As Easy as 1-2-3-4”. Pro’s: After significant amount of up front time that is needed to get the book to the editor and publisher, I can just sit back and wait for the royalties to come tumbling on in. Con’s: It might be difficult for people to implement for 4-legged strategies, which would depress sales.

My last idea involves growing my current business enterprise. I could start franchising my security biddiness. I could start small, locally, by recruiting other less intelligent neighborhood watch dogs who don’t even know that what they do instinctively can be turned into a money making venture. I could even get them to purchase my own home security kit. I have to figure some day I could even have my own infomercials, like that clown John Basedow. Pro’s: Not a whole lot of work, other than filming the infomercial. Con’s: I might end up on AmIAnnoying.com like John Basedow.

Of course I could just stay small and continue sponging off my parents.

We got a Wii!!!

I am not sure what got into Mom & Dad's heads, but something made them get up butt ass early on a cold Sunday morning and drag themselves to Circuit Shitty to get us as Wii. I stayed home, where it was warm and the thread count was high. Me, personally, I could live without one, but I do have to say that its nice to have around. I don't have to rely on chasing squirls or Jada to get my exercise. And that right there is really nice in the winter time when its cold, windy or rainy. I hate going outside when its muddy, then I get shit all over my feet when I am walking around.

The games are cool, but they certainly seem to have cut into the lets hang out and scratch the dog time. Wii Sports is cool, but it is kind of hard to play without opposable thumbs. Same thing with Tiger Woods 2008, although owner seemed very relaxed having gotten to play 18 yesterday as well as a couple of sets of tennis. Its a real tough country club life he's living. And people think I have it easy. No way am I getting to play golf and tennis all day long. Then mom comes home and plays Super Mario this and Super Mario that all evening long. Again, tough life. Not like she has to sit at a window all day trying to figure out novel approached to picking up shitzu's or how to foil scheming pugs. There must be 4 or 6 pugs in within a block, and all they do is try and break in to steal my stash of sum dum cat.

The one game that I did find on the Wii that I can play, because it doesn't depend on my ability to hold things in each hand and manipulate the buttons and controllers was Dance Dance Revolution. I picked it up pretty easily and dad says that I have some built in advantages. So having 4 legs is good. I can outplay anyone at DDR and I don't slip on the ice as much as some other people. Any way, here is a picture of me after busting a serious move at DDR! Perfect score! Lets see you two legged people types score like that on maximum difficulty.

Don't Eat the Yellow Snow

Trust me when I tell you this. I know where that stuff comes from. You don't want to eat it. Quite frankly, I have to question the intelligence or sanity of anyone who is even contemplating eating the yellow snow. And you shouldn't have to be told by your mother not to eat the yellow snow. Some things are just plain common sense. Although, I guess some kids get the "I have an honor student ..." bumper sticker and others get the "I have a wonderful kid ..." bumper sticker. I told you all a long time ago, that its the kid who gets the "I have a wonderful kid ..." bumper sticker that I am most afraid of. Because the common sense is just lacking for the "I have a wonderful kid ..." bumper sticker kid. 2nd grade just isn't that hard. I spent my elementary school years peeing on trees and chasing grounds keepers at Georgetown Pup. Yet, some place, someone is driving my mom's old Audi with an "I have an honor student at Georgetown Pup" bumper sticker on the back. It finally snowed here. I love the snow. I can't tell you why, but when it snows, something just sets me off. Even though its cold and I am not wearing very much, I love being outside when its snowing. Something makes me just want to run wild. It was funny to watch the owner slip and slide on the ice. Now I understand why he drives an SUV. 2 legs good, 4 legs better. Of course I did figure out that I can run wild inside where it is nice, warm and toasty. Not to mention, I wouldn't want the owner to forget that he owes me a treat off the end of the counter. So lets hurry up and go inside, its cold.

Living the Rich Life

Ok, I still don't like scotch, much to my owners chagrin, but a pint of Guiness still goes really well with a nice medium boddied cigar. I was kind of surprised, I don't usually hang out with him and his friends when they are drinking scotch and smoking cigars, but since I expressed some interest in the cigar he was smoking, he whipped one out for me. He said it was a milder, softer smoke that I might like. Knowing how much I like Guiness, he offered me a puppy pint to go with the smoke. I must say, I enjoyed the crunchy, fuzzy character of the cigar.

I certainly think that this can only enhance my reputation as an international puppy dog of mystery. I will need to see if I can find a store that takes my American Express card so that I can get myself a Hugh Hefner style smoking jacket. Ahh the good life. One lesson for everyone, avoid the wrong end of the cigar. Its not real tasty.

I wonder how this would go with a nice plate of sum dum cat and a side of Cinnabones in lobster sauce. Ya know, all this talk of food, drink and good life has me thinking that I should probably go out and get some lunch. There are some nice places to eat near the Williams Sonoma in Clarendon. The choices are endless. There are several Irish pubs who serve Guiness stew, one of my favorites. Just about anything with beef in it is a favorite. There's Indian, pizza, Mexican, Chineese, Italian, BBQ, wings ... Actually I think I will go for a walk down to my favorite BBQ joint, Rocklands for some ribs and onion rings. Yep, time to go, bye.

Trophy Time!

It finally came back from the taxidermist! I was really excited last night when the FedEx guy knocked on the door. Of course being the good home security expert that I am, I was the first person to the door. I was barking rabidly and as ferociously as possibly. Surely anyone on the other side of the door would have been scared off, had they not been here on official biddiness. I could hardly contain myself once I saw that it was FedEx guy. The owner insisted that it couldn't possibly be for me, but then again, he didn't know that I was expecting a package. You should have seen the look on his face after he signed for the package and handed it over to me, with an air bill that had my name on it! Mom helped me open the package and unwrap the carefully wrapped trophy. The fruits of my first class loofa hunting trip last month.

I must admit, I was really pleased with the workmanship. This thing looks great, the picture just doesn't do justice to the majestic, giant, rare, blue loofa of Arlington or the handiwork of the taxidermist. I am not sure where we're going to hang it, but I was thinking that someplace in the living room would be ideal. It's the perfect conversation piece at parties and other social gatherings, not to mention when I have bitches over. They can't help but be impressed with my skill as a loofa hunter. The giant, rare, blue loofa can only be caught in the wild, unlike the more common green or light blue loofa which can be found at PetSmarts nearly anywhere.

Help A Puppy Out

Ok, so I need some ideas for a new poll. We already know that bitches like it from behind and that I am better looking than Vinny Chase from HBO's Entorage. So how about some ideas, feel free to post them here.

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.