Dec 1 2010

If There’s A Bull Penis Involved I Am So In!

Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’ve all sufficiently recouped from Thanksgiving and moved on to Christmas or Hanukkah or all of the other things that everyone celebrates around these parts. All of us but me. See, I am not ready to face Christmas. I never am until around the 24th but usually when the 24th rolls around you can find me smoking up a storm, nursing a 103 degree fever with a bottle or two of wine, wearing only some curly ribbon, wrapping all the yachts, gold bullion and diamonds that I personally dug for all of my beloved minions. However, this year I am really not ready to face Christmas since last year The Grinch came to my beloved Christmas, dug a hole in the ground, stuffed Christmas in it and then took a shit on it. I know, it’s not a pretty thought. Be thankful you weren’t there.

(doesn’t he just look like he’s about to take a crap?)

But what I really want to share with you all is the new Thanksgiving Bull Penis tradition that my lovely and quite demure Mother started this past Thanksgiving.
(We will call her Mrs. Vapid) 

The Dish and I take The Tine and The Nug very seriously you know, after all we bought The Nug two brand new bionic knees and The Tine, well he gets to keep his balls. We don’t give them human food very often and I am pretty sure The Nug is going to walk out the door one day to go live with our good friend who watches both dogs  and makes them home made frozen yogurt treats on the RARE occasion we try to get the HELL OUT of Dodge. 
On special occasions, such as Thanksgiving, we try to make them feel a part of the festivities and special usually means when we are drunk enough to not care what aroma comes wafting out of their bung holes.

 Since they deconstruct, devour and destroy what ever is given them in a matter of seconds we try to find something that is hard and will last a long, long, long time. To that end, we have found the Mighty Bully Stick lasts about and hour (badum chump) and when I tell you they love them, just imagine a guard dog that will still be chewing on the thing when an intruder comes in and trying to bark at the same time. It’s this weird combination of chaw chaw raawww rawww chaw chawgrawww.  What I’m getting at is they make a shit ton of noise while chewing so when Mrs. Vapid asked what they were she no doubt couldn’t hear The Dish quietly look away and say “dried bull penis” into his glass of wine. Although my dad, Mr. Vapid heard.
 A little time goes by, the dogs are going down to town on these things and Mrs. Vapid exclaims “Those look good can I get one?”
*Blinks all around*
I’m pretty sure everyone turned around and took another sip of wine.
A little more time goes by and Mrs. Vapid exclaims “Really, that just looks so good, can I get one?”
*sigh*
*drink*
Mrs. Vapid to Mr. Vapid: “Don’t you want one of those?”

Mr. Vapid: ” Did you hear what they are?”
Mrs. Vapid: “No?”
Mr. Vapid (giving the stinkeye of suspisciousness): “You didn’t hear what they are?”
Mrs. Vapid:  “NO, what are they?”
(cut to me sitting next to Mrs. Vapid on the couch slowly sipping my wine…waiting, waiting, waiting for just the right moment to strike! Kaboom!)
AVB: “Mom, it’s a dried BULL PENIS!”
Mrs. Vapid : “No it’s not:”
Mr. Vapid: “Yes it is, The Dish clearly said that like 45 minutes ago!”
AVB: “Yes mom, it’s a dried bull penis like raw hide that we give to our dogs and all you keep talking about is how much you want one and doesn’t dad want one and I never knew how KINKY you were?!?”

And through out the rest of the night I kept on offending my mother over and over again with talk of the Bull Penis. Like when a guy on tv took a little swizzle stick with a little hand on it and scratched his little balls with it and my mom didn’t see what he did and asked “What just happened?” Yeah, um Mom “He scrastched his bull penis with it…duh!”

And that’s when she said she was no longer speaking to me.

Next time I will tell you about how my parents think I live like a cave woman in the woods and brush whats left of my teeth with tree bark.

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Nov 11 2010

Doggie Style: Poop Day Afternoon

As I sit here on my couch I’m looking around at all of you. All of you who are soundly asleep quietly passing your gas, exhaling your tiny motor boat snores, running after those silly bunnies or twinkies in your dreams and all I can think of is…
Y’all stink. 
Yes you smell, your dirty and you may have eaten something highly questionable when you were outside and all I want to do is be you. I want to roll around on the floor. I want to find pleasure in smelling dirt. I want to love a hard piece of processed *food* that looks like a rabbit turd with the same kind of intensity you do. I want my fur to be rubbed the wrong way. As I sit here chilled to the bone I wonder how I will survive these cold winter months. I look at you two,  my two beloved furry beasts and all I can think of is how nice it would be to have my own built in fur coat. How AWESOME would it be if the only thing that was expected of me was that I pooped twice a day and ate my food with out puking it up. And when my persons came home and I peed a little on the floor, how very very cool would it be to not be judged for doing that?

And that is when I realized I should be a dog. Being a dog would rock!

ZOMFG BEING A DOG IS AWESOME!!!1!!!

People want to give you treats all the time. And do and it’s goooood. And you can never get enough treats. “How about that steak? *pfft*”

*Pfft* You can fart all the time and it never gets old when you look at your hiney as if it just insulted you. 

You can roll around on your back naked and you don’t get arrested. But you do get your belly rubbed, hard. And if you happen to be a male show stud you get your balls fondled on a daily basis. And no on goes into a jealous rage over it because it’s in your contract.
“Line 42 clearly stipulates that my golden nuggets are to be held daily while you scream something like…BALLS! really, really loud.”

 You can smell and it’s still cute.

You can gain weight and everyone around says finally doggie is growing. If I gain weight and can’t fit into my clothes I have to resort to wearing Mu Mu’s and orthotics.

You can totally judge someone’s character by the way their bunghole smells without getting slapped, or arrested.

Clearly I am superior AND I’ve had a fantastic day doing fantastic dog things, you can just smell the fantastic on me.

Barking like a lunatic at a branch blowing in the breeze is totally acceptable behavior.

You can have a hairy hooch . It might even be attractive . Take for instance when my male dog sniffs my female dogs hoo haa and decides a sniff just isn’t enough so he goes in for a lick, another lick, lick, lick, lick, lick. Then he comes away smacking his lips together making this pwop, pwop, pwop, pwop,pwop, pwop,pwop, pwop,pwop, pwop,pwop, pwop,pwop, pwop, sound really fast.
I’m guessing this is like swirling your wine in your mouth to get the full flavor.

You and your doggie friends can vomit or poop anywhere and it’s fine, because no one will judge you for getting too drunk and doing that in front of the bar last night. And because you can eat it. You know, because it tastes good. And to hide the evidence. But mostly because it tastes good. And then you can go lick your humans face. Because she LIKES that so much judging from her reaction.

You wouldn’t ever have to go to work but if you do go to work, you can immediately, upon your arrival, go directly to the break room and nap until lunch time and then nap until it’s time to go home.

To have a built in fur coat. To not have a care in the world. And the best thing on the face of the earth is being able to suck on that stinky rope toy that smells like a combination of taleggio, spit and yesterdays puke you *cleaned* up?

Woof!

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