Thursday, October 25, 2007

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.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

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.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Hey Bitches!!!

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

Monday, October 15, 2007

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!

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

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.

Monday, October 8, 2007

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.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

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.

Friday, September 28, 2007

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!

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.

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.

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.