Oscar's Birthday Bash at Runyon Park

This Sunday we celebrated Oscar's 3rd birthday at Runyon Park. Oscar was my first friend in LA. We would have dated but then he turned gay. There were some cool people there, like Oscar. And some not so cool people, like Yankee.

Chester had a good time. But he'd have a good time eating dirt.

Marcello had fun though he says Rome is nicer than Runyon.

I enjoyed the snacks.

Oscar was a good host. Except for inviting Yankee.

Me n "doodle" got a drink together.

There were some party crashers.... The husky was NOT invited.

But he turned out to be okay. Originally from Boston. I-banker. Decent guy.

Chester and Oscar got caught up. Oscar talked about banging other fogs and Chester talked about his experimentation with Marcello.

Chester got out of line and I had to go National Geographic on his ass.

I spent some time chillaxin' in Nature n shit.

Oscar and his mom have an unusual relationship.

Me, Marcello and Bella was chillin'

There was dog cake, which Yankee wore more than he ate.

There were also yucky tasting cakes for the people. Mom seemed to enjoy shoving this down her throat despite just finishing a McDonald's extra value meal.

Oscar's bday was okay. But mine was way cooler.

PANIC ATTACK.

As you can see from the above picture, the other night I suffered from a moderate -- and completely justified -- Panic Attack. See Mom had been gone, like, all day. And when she came back and I was like, BOO-YA MAMA! But then, despite my Welcome Home Make-out Sesh with Mom's hands and jeans -- she suddenly called out, "Stella, Chester, bedroom!" And like a good bitch and daughter I ran right down the hall. (Chester had to be cheered on like a Special Olympian.)

And then Mom closed the door.

At first I was like, Okay, whateves. But then I noticed something troubling. See, usually Mom and Dad just leave water in the room when they leave us and go off to be bad parents. But there were mine and Chester's food bowls in the bedroom with us... WTF.

A million things started running through my mind as Chester waddled over to his bowl and licked it clean.

First, why would Mom have left that food, unless they were planning on being gone for a looong ass freakin' time. Days. Weeks. And with Roberta out of town and Ari and Holly living in f-ing K-town like chumps, who the heck would save us?

My anxiety was building and building as Chester plopped down on his bed for a nap. And then I FREAKED OUT. And, like an alcoholic reaching for the bottle or Mom grabbing a diet dr. pepper, I was forced to self-medicate. And I found solace in the bathroom trash. Which I ripped to shreds. I also dragged chester's bed onto the bed and gnawed on that a bit.

I felt so much better until Mom and Dad came home like 30 minutes later.

I was like YEAH I'M SO EXCITED YOU GUYS ARE HOME!

But Mom and Dad didn't look so excited to see all their embarrassing bathroom trash strewn around the room. Personally I think they should have been more embarrassed of that 1985 Goodwill comforter they're using. The homeless people under the bridge have nicer linens.

I think Chester's bed looks better upside down. Just like Chester. After the Panic Attack. I was too excited Mom and Dad were home to care that I was in trouble. Please note my full food bowl and Chester's completely empty bowl.

One of my more intense Panic Attacks back at the Edgeware House:

Rockweiler

Other day at the park I passed these homies who were like, Yo, it's a ROCKWEILLER! At first I thought they were straight up ignorant, but more I think about it, I am a mutha-freakin' ROCKWEILER. Peace out.

Assaulted In My Own Home

Yesterday I was assaulted in my own home. And, as they say on all those crime shows Dad loves to watch when he pretends to be working on a script late at night, the victim (me) knew the perpetrators (MOM AND DAD, but mostly Mom because she is more heartless). Anyways, I was just enjoying a lazy Saturday at home -- napping, gnawing on Chester's neck, you know, typical chillaxin' -- when all of a sudden, Mom went crazy. First she washed all the dishes even though it was Dad's turn. (This is always a bad sign.) Then she thrashed around in the living room for a while, moving crap around for no apparent reason. When she vacuumed I knew it was really getting out of control. And when she stormed into the bedroom to make the bed my heart sank. When she came back out, it was just like the streets, yo. She had a crazy mutha-fuckin look in her eye. And all of a sudden she was using a lot of one particular four letter word: BATH. I tried to appeal to Dad but he just shook his head at me as if to say, "This bitch is crazy." I don't want to talk about the actual attack. It's too painful and raw right now. But I will say that my cholo colita got soaked and scrubbed and I think Mom took way too much pleasure in seeing me drenched and vulnerable under that unrelenting fucking shower nozzle. Finally I was freed. And I had the meager pleasure (or, actually a lot of pleasure) of seeing Marcello and Chester get theirs too. Ha ha. Chumps.

Warning: Graphic Images

The aftermath... fur in the drain, the soiled towels in the hall. The fact that no effort was made to clean up these reminders of the assault demonstrates the insanity of my attackers.

the attackers this past halloween. the warning signs were there.

post attack, "sooo pretty" says crazy attacker #1.

i go in search of chester and marcello. im sure they'd like to get in on this.

No Luck on St. Paddy's

mom insisted on a "happy family" picture.

even dad's smile looks strained.

mortified.

Hate this headband. At least Chester and Marcello are too dumb to realize how much this sucked.

Will someone take off this freaking "pinch proof" T-shirt?

I am so f-ing mad.

Mom Versus Dad

As many of you might know, my Mom frequently abandons her duties as Mom and runs away from me and Chester and Dad. She is always busy with some obnoxious activity or another. Like taking comedy classes even though she is not funny or going to the coffee shop to pretend to write. And she goes on tons of weekend trips to "visit friends" which we all know is BS because Mom has no friends. (And one time she left us to die in the rubble of an earthquake but we don't have to get into that.) But this weekend something very surprising happened. Dad left. He went to New York City for something called a Bachelor Party. Mom says the good thing is "It's not like your Dad takes you for hikes" and "Now maybe the bed will be made." And Dad wouldn't tell me much about what he was doing except "We're taking bets on who will end up at Riker's Island." I don't really know what this means but I hope it's not Dad that ends up there because an island is surrounded by water and I HATE water (including but not limited to rain, the ocean, and Chester's piss stream). Anyway, despite getting lots of hikes because Mom is here, I am really starting to resent that controlling shrew and miss my Dad. So I'm going to post some nostalgic pics of me hanging with Dad. Maybe Mom should take a lesson and realize that making the bed in the morning is a lot less important than having an awesome Dad.

Though the Ages... with Dad

I am taller than Dad! Dad stole my Valentine's Day cookie I love giving Dad kisses!

Dad is a jerk!

Dad sulked with me at the tacky sweater party

i love Dad.