So, every morning it's like the same freakin' thing. Mom takes me 'n Huge Bunghole around da block for what she calls our "Morning Walk" 'n what I call "Not Enough, Never Enough." 'N there always comes the time in the walk when Mom starts with her "Come on, Stella. Business, Stella. Come on, Stella. Don't you want to poo?" First off, OF COURSE I FREAKIN' WANT TO POO. Poo-in' is the freakin best and obviously I know it. But(t) I gotta work it out, ya know? I gotta stretch. I gotta sniff that empty bag of chips. I gotta gnaw Chester's neck while he tryin' to cross the street. Don't rush this shit!
What really annoy me as much as Chester's face (wait, I just took another look at that mo-fo. He is definitely more annoying but still), is how frustrated Morning Breath Mom get when the walk is endin' I ain't done the doody. Suddenly Mom is all "Stella. Please. Please poo. Are you about t-- what are you-- just a SNIFF?? Come ON, Stella!" Guess what, fool? Hearing Mom get all stupid and annoyed about Stella not pooping, makes this bitch REALLY not wanna poo. What if I told Mom she couldn't leave for work til she did her BUSINESS (her stupid word, not mine, homie!)? You think she'd be able to drop everything 'n push out last night's dinner plus seconds plus scrapings from the bottom of the pan? NO. No I don't freakin' think so.
Here's all you gotta do to get this bitch to poo: Take me on a longer freakin' walk!!! Or face da freakin' consequences that sometime you just ain't gonna get no poo outta this Echo Park chola.
'Course I could just do like Chesturd did the other day n poo right in the hall while Mom was puttin' on her shirt to take us out. It's like his asshole starts to open as soon as Mom's alarm go off. Annoying. But sorta refreshing too.
Peace, honkies.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Sunday, January 15, 2012
About as Cool as Mom (which is totally Not cool)
Wow. I am like in total dis-ba-lief right now. I just found out that my brainless brother Queefter has started a blog.
I mean seriously? Cheapdork think grammar is da first step in makin' a S'more. When he count to three he just go "One...one...one..." over 'n over. Fact, when Pest-ter first told me 'bout his "planet" to start a blog, he say "Stella what would you to say if I did start to write about what is my life like you on the internets?" Ob-vosly, there was only one response to this stream o' poo comin' out his mouth so I reply "What the F you talkin' bout that ain't even English 'n do you got any leftover food in yo mouth let me check!" Anyways, eventually I understood da gist of his message, and also found me some delicious morsel of meat (what kind I ain't sure) in the back of his throat.
So now Ches-twerp has got this blog goin' but 'stead of actin' all mad and stupid like Mom be when Dad don't cut vegetables fast enough ("Blah blah blah what take you so long my belly has been deprived of food for 20 minutes!") I just gonna let it go. He wanna make an even bigger fool of his-self, yo, I support that shit all da way. So long as he don't eat his feet on my keyboard. That shit's nasty.
Feel like killin' brain cells? Read Chesturd's mental fart-stream here: http://whatishoover.blogspot.com/.
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| You seriously wanna know what this fool got to say? |
So now Ches-twerp has got this blog goin' but 'stead of actin' all mad and stupid like Mom be when Dad don't cut vegetables fast enough ("Blah blah blah what take you so long my belly has been deprived of food for 20 minutes!") I just gonna let it go. He wanna make an even bigger fool of his-self, yo, I support that shit all da way. So long as he don't eat his feet on my keyboard. That shit's nasty.
Feel like killin' brain cells? Read Chesturd's mental fart-stream here: http://whatishoover.blogspot.com/.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
2012: Just like 2011 'cept probably worse
Well. Here we freakin' go again. Sorry for da absence in my postings, but it's been a crazy couple weeks 'round this purina stand. Mom had to get a "new shoulder" in December 'n far as I can tell all that mean is that Dad has been doin' a lot more dishes (so, like, a few of them) n I been gettin' a lot less hikes (or, like, none of them, if you wanna be pacific).
For Christmas this year, Mom gave me a "learning toy." Some stupid-ass gingerbread house with all these little squeak-toys that go inside and you supposed to take the little toys outta it. Needless to say, I gave it a sniff and that was that for the learning toy. Learn this, Ma. Keep your learnin' toys to yourself.
For New Years we went over to da Arianos who are super awesome. Their kids -- Bronco, Ceci n Steve -- is aight, too. Whens it come to Bronco, I learned it's best to avoid eye contact. When it comes to Steve, not doin' eye contact is easy cuz his eyes are at the side o' his head 'stead of on the front. Ceci is a pretty cool bitch, though I did not 'ppreciate her jumps into MY mom's lap. Uh, HELLO? Jeez. The problem was da other dogs at this shin-dig. The Arianos neighbors' got two pups. One is totally blind and loves to bark, n the other has three legs n love to bite. Sorta weird interests but then again I like rollin' in horse poo so to each his freakin' own.
There was two awesome parts of New Years. One was that -- n I only did this cuz no one else was steppin' up to the job - I became the official New Years Eve greeter. This meant that anytime a guest arrived in the backyard I said hi. Unfortunately Mom didn't seem to like the way I was sayin' hi. She said it was more like I was running full steam in their direction while yelling WHO DO YOU KNOW GET OUT OR ELSE. I guess I could sorta see the mis-terpetation. But regardless, I did not enjoy being put in Mom's car as punishment, where I was then forced to protect the vehicle until midnight.
The other awesome part of New Years happened when Mom started to feel bad about how I wasn't gettin' to celebrate (because she had put my ass on security detail for her car -- I mean, she didn't exactly say I had to protect the car but that's how this bitch rolls, and you is welcome). So definitely drunk Mom let me out n' good thing she did cuz that's when this other bitch -- Frankie (yeah that's her name and she is definitely in da mafia) -- jumped Chester like he stole her meatloaf marinara. (Bitch was fat. That's what I'm tryin' to say here.)
Now here's the thing 'bout other dogs pouncin' on my turf (Chester). It ain't cool. So damn if I was gonna let Frankie treat Chester like an overstuffed meatball sub. That's my job, FOOL.
So when we heard the shrieks (Damn Chester sounds like a BITCH when he get kicked) Mom called from her fat planted ass to Dad, "That's Chester!" but my skinny butt was already on da scene. By the time Dad had snatched up Cheddar-head, I was layin' down the smack to Frankie tellin her YO JUICEHEAD GET CHO OWN CALZONE.
Mom thought it was real sweet how I done that. She tole Dad "Did you see how Stella was protecting him?" Fact she got a little misty eyed but maybe it was cuz she was guzzlin' her eighth PBR n some o' those was bubblin' to the surface.
Happy freakin' New Year.
For Christmas this year, Mom gave me a "learning toy." Some stupid-ass gingerbread house with all these little squeak-toys that go inside and you supposed to take the little toys outta it. Needless to say, I gave it a sniff and that was that for the learning toy. Learn this, Ma. Keep your learnin' toys to yourself.
For New Years we went over to da Arianos who are super awesome. Their kids -- Bronco, Ceci n Steve -- is aight, too. Whens it come to Bronco, I learned it's best to avoid eye contact. When it comes to Steve, not doin' eye contact is easy cuz his eyes are at the side o' his head 'stead of on the front. Ceci is a pretty cool bitch, though I did not 'ppreciate her jumps into MY mom's lap. Uh, HELLO? Jeez. The problem was da other dogs at this shin-dig. The Arianos neighbors' got two pups. One is totally blind and loves to bark, n the other has three legs n love to bite. Sorta weird interests but then again I like rollin' in horse poo so to each his freakin' own.
There was two awesome parts of New Years. One was that -- n I only did this cuz no one else was steppin' up to the job - I became the official New Years Eve greeter. This meant that anytime a guest arrived in the backyard I said hi. Unfortunately Mom didn't seem to like the way I was sayin' hi. She said it was more like I was running full steam in their direction while yelling WHO DO YOU KNOW GET OUT OR ELSE. I guess I could sorta see the mis-terpetation. But regardless, I did not enjoy being put in Mom's car as punishment, where I was then forced to protect the vehicle until midnight.
The other awesome part of New Years happened when Mom started to feel bad about how I wasn't gettin' to celebrate (because she had put my ass on security detail for her car -- I mean, she didn't exactly say I had to protect the car but that's how this bitch rolls, and you is welcome). So definitely drunk Mom let me out n' good thing she did cuz that's when this other bitch -- Frankie (yeah that's her name and she is definitely in da mafia) -- jumped Chester like he stole her meatloaf marinara. (Bitch was fat. That's what I'm tryin' to say here.)
Now here's the thing 'bout other dogs pouncin' on my turf (Chester). It ain't cool. So damn if I was gonna let Frankie treat Chester like an overstuffed meatball sub. That's my job, FOOL.
So when we heard the shrieks (Damn Chester sounds like a BITCH when he get kicked) Mom called from her fat planted ass to Dad, "That's Chester!" but my skinny butt was already on da scene. By the time Dad had snatched up Cheddar-head, I was layin' down the smack to Frankie tellin her YO JUICEHEAD GET CHO OWN CALZONE.
Mom thought it was real sweet how I done that. She tole Dad "Did you see how Stella was protecting him?" Fact she got a little misty eyed but maybe it was cuz she was guzzlin' her eighth PBR n some o' those was bubblin' to the surface.
Happy freakin' New Year.
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