My people have sat me down and talked to me about the "disrespectful" language that I use to describe them in my writings. For some reason She has a problem with being referred to as a cushion. (I think she's sensitive about the width of her lap) Anyway, from now on I have promised to call them mama and papa. At least I will try.
Now back to the story I was telling you - papa has fixed the computer for me now. I told him he better, or I'd go get a macbook.
OK, where was I? I think the retriever monster had just left.
So we had a long sleep, and then the cold white stuff came down from the sky. Mama got pretty excited (even more than usual). She had been ripping paper off the stuff under the tree, and then she was reading the book gift while papa played the noisy shoot-em-up game on the TV and then the white stuff came down outside and mama tried to drag me out their to play in it. No thank you!
We got all dressed up after that. I wore my little blue Tshirt and a jacket, and we road tripped to granma's house. She left lots of yummy bits on the floor for us to eat, but she wouldn't let us sit at the table till most of the food was gone. It was good stuff. Japanese food (I'm not fussy about where my food comes from) After the eating we were allowed to sit on the couch for the first time ever, because granma gave us blankies of our own to protect her old couch from us. She gave us toys too. I ripped a hole in mine and pulled out its insides.
We drove home in the dark, but we had to go back for some reason. I think mama left her brain back at granma's house.
Anyway, we had a good time. I think this is a good time of year. Papa likes to watch TV and play shoot-em-up inside, and mama turns into a great cushion this time of year (she gets bigger and softer). She only makes us run in the park a short time, and if it's wet or white she doesn't even try to make us go out. We'll all be paying for it next spring though - maybe I should tell you more about our amazing weight loss success story sometime soon. I'll get some pictures together for you - I'm half the dog I used to be.
Gotta get up now. Maybe play some small-mouthed-dog tennis ball catch.
Later people.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Time Flies
I apologize, loyal readers... This month really got away from me.
I have so many things to tell you, I don't know where to start. Is the beginning OK with you?
The month started with my cushion talking to herself a lot. She said things like "13 original states and 13 stripes" and "50 stars, 50 states, each has 2 senators, but how long do they serve for?" Then one day the tall one stayed home on a weekday, and they left me alone all day, but she seemed to be quite happy and relaxed when she got home. Then about a week later they did it again, and when she got home I heard her say something about being a "mericanow".
Right after that she got into a big old frenzy, rushing around, taking boxes out of the house and coming back with things in bags. She sent a whole bunch of stuff someplace. And then some good smelling stuff showed up in our house. She made a plastic tree and put the good stuff under there, right at nose level, but then she yelled when we tried to find out what it was.
The peak of frenzy came a few days ago. Both of my people raced around the house making all the stuff disappear, and changing all the smells with their sprays and liquids. They brought out the loud vacuum monster and tried to suck me up into it (don't worry, I kicked it's butt). My cushion wouldn't sit down - she made some brownie cakes for dogs and some scone cakes for people and some fluffy cream to go with Kara's homemade blackberry jam (she's a book lady too).
Then my aunt and uncle came over with their big monster they call "Buster". He whacked his giant tail around every which way and tried to jump on Bubbles, and he got some of my brownies. I couldn't believe how he could reach his monster nose right up to the food on the table. I wish I could do that. After it was dark the people played something they called "Guitar Hero" and it sounded like fun. There was clapping and laughing and singing, and everyone got tired. Oh, and most important - aunty gave me 3 small-mouthed-dog-accessible tennis balls, and a fuzzy goldfish to play with, but I had to wait until the monster was gone, because he's a thief.
I'm going to have to keep you in suspense for the rest of my story. The tall one did something bad to this computer, and every 20 seconds an angry message comes up and messes with my typing. It's hard enough for me to blog as it is. But this is just ridiculous! I can't take it anymore.
I'll write again soon, I promise. Y'all come back now, y'hear?!
I have so many things to tell you, I don't know where to start. Is the beginning OK with you?
The month started with my cushion talking to herself a lot. She said things like "13 original states and 13 stripes" and "50 stars, 50 states, each has 2 senators, but how long do they serve for?" Then one day the tall one stayed home on a weekday, and they left me alone all day, but she seemed to be quite happy and relaxed when she got home. Then about a week later they did it again, and when she got home I heard her say something about being a "mericanow".
Right after that she got into a big old frenzy, rushing around, taking boxes out of the house and coming back with things in bags. She sent a whole bunch of stuff someplace. And then some good smelling stuff showed up in our house. She made a plastic tree and put the good stuff under there, right at nose level, but then she yelled when we tried to find out what it was.
The peak of frenzy came a few days ago. Both of my people raced around the house making all the stuff disappear, and changing all the smells with their sprays and liquids. They brought out the loud vacuum monster and tried to suck me up into it (don't worry, I kicked it's butt). My cushion wouldn't sit down - she made some brownie cakes for dogs and some scone cakes for people and some fluffy cream to go with Kara's homemade blackberry jam (she's a book lady too).
Then my aunt and uncle came over with their big monster they call "Buster". He whacked his giant tail around every which way and tried to jump on Bubbles, and he got some of my brownies. I couldn't believe how he could reach his monster nose right up to the food on the table. I wish I could do that. After it was dark the people played something they called "Guitar Hero" and it sounded like fun. There was clapping and laughing and singing, and everyone got tired. Oh, and most important - aunty gave me 3 small-mouthed-dog-accessible tennis balls, and a fuzzy goldfish to play with, but I had to wait until the monster was gone, because he's a thief.
I'm going to have to keep you in suspense for the rest of my story. The tall one did something bad to this computer, and every 20 seconds an angry message comes up and messes with my typing. It's hard enough for me to blog as it is. But this is just ridiculous! I can't take it anymore.
I'll write again soon, I promise. Y'all come back now, y'hear?!
Thursday, December 6, 2007
setting the record straight
this is not the fat ugly white dog. this is the boss. they call me bubbles because they're stupid and don't know how to pronounce my true name. im not very good at typing but i wont apologize. im 75 in people age. it's a wonder i can see the damn screen.
anyway, i just wanted to clarify something the young upstart said. she accused me of latching on to her fat flabby cheek and biting till the blood did flow, and not letting go even when we were pulled up into the air. ok. that's true. but she started it. she always starts it. i try to talk to her for a minute, pull her out of that stupor she spends her days in, and she jumps on me. she always jumps on me, but i always kick her butt. i make her pay for her insolence.
she thinks shes so smart. "im on the internet! i have a blog!" she even tries to pee over my marks. but she doesn't know her back end from her front, so she always misses by about 2 feet. stupid. she barely even knows how to lift her leg like a real dog should. can't lift it at all when she poops (although thats really my special talent - cant expect just any old dog to do that)
if she keeps on messing with me and slandering me on this blog im going to post some very embarrassing videos of her on this youtube thing. i have seen her try to play with a vacuum cleaner, i have seen her chewing on rocks, and i have seen her suck beer out of a bottle. i could get her in a lot of trouble...
anyway, i just wanted to clarify something the young upstart said. she accused me of latching on to her fat flabby cheek and biting till the blood did flow, and not letting go even when we were pulled up into the air. ok. that's true. but she started it. she always starts it. i try to talk to her for a minute, pull her out of that stupor she spends her days in, and she jumps on me. she always jumps on me, but i always kick her butt. i make her pay for her insolence.
she thinks shes so smart. "im on the internet! i have a blog!" she even tries to pee over my marks. but she doesn't know her back end from her front, so she always misses by about 2 feet. stupid. she barely even knows how to lift her leg like a real dog should. can't lift it at all when she poops (although thats really my special talent - cant expect just any old dog to do that)
if she keeps on messing with me and slandering me on this blog im going to post some very embarrassing videos of her on this youtube thing. i have seen her try to play with a vacuum cleaner, i have seen her chewing on rocks, and i have seen her suck beer out of a bottle. i could get her in a lot of trouble...
YouTube From Under the Rug
It's cold on the sofa without my cushion and the ornery old pug keeps attacking me. That bitch! I can say that because we are both are, you know, female dogs. Don't call the profanity police on me. Don't make me wear the scarlet letter P. They did that on Colonial House. I was listening from under the blanket the last 2 days when my cushion had her Colonial House marathon. Sounded like I would've hated olden times. No cushions, no sofas, and I bet they wouldn't have made me a nice flannel quilt to sleep under like my cushion did.
This picture shows me and the old one under our "rug" today. It used to be all mine, but now if I don't share I get my butt kicked. She doesn't look so mean, and they call her that cute name "Bubbles", but the other day she bit my cheek and wouldn't let go, even after the tall one picked me up to break up the fight. And she attacked me again while my cushion nursemaid was cleaning the blood off my fur. Like I said before...
So I heard that YouTube is really cool. The tall one comes home all the time with stuff he was told about at "work". I don't know. I went on there and I found a skateboarding bulldog that got on Oprah and a pug that says "I love you" to Montel (big deal, I bet he doesn't write a blog; got nothing to say but "I love you"). I guess anyone can put their videos on there for all the world to see. I did quite like that catchy little song with the treadmill dance. But really, don't people have better, more important things to do? I seem to recall that in several dystopic novels the misuse of mindless media was how freedoms were lost.
You know what? I shouldn't pretend to be something I'm not. I'm just a simple pug with a few basic needs, many desires, and a little bit of an interest in politics. I'm not technology minded. I just want to become an enlightened being and do good in the world, without leaving the comfort and security of a warm soft lap.
If you want to check out my recent favs, including a couple of YouTube videos, you can go to my delicious page anytime (I can't be bothered learning about embedding videos right now! I need some sleep)
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