Havin a BALL

Yo fool. Even a rough n tumble street bitch like me needs to unwind sometimes. N while Mom n Dad find comfort in booze and fast food, this ho keeps it real. Kickin back by kickin a ball.

Check it:

White Trashed

Crazy has a name. And that name is STEVE.

Uncle Ano and Aunt Becca's autistic puppy was supposed to stay with us til Saturday.

He left on Wednesday.

Things started off pretty cool. We was playin n wrestlin n shit. N I kinda liked the fact that Steve was like bumping into tables n walls like he didn't even notice.

Me n Steve even went to Elysian together with Mom so that was cool -- especially since Chester had to stay home. SUCKER!

But things went downhill. While Mom was out picking Dad up, Steve ate the bedskirt. Then, while I was eating my DINNER that honky stuck his stupid pink nose in my bowl. Man, I laid the smack down on his ass. Dad said, He's just a puppy, Stella! But Mom took my side.

But later, Mom was gonna stuff her wide gaping mouth with food and I seen Steve walk over to where she was at n I was like "BACK THE F OFF, GRINGO!" And Mom didn't take my side.

So that night Mom put Steve in da crate but whitey wasn't havin' none of that. Even though he'd been passed out for hours before, he wouldn't chillax. So Mom made Dad push the crate into the hall. And then the bar holding all Mom n Dad's clothes fell down. And Mom was pissed. And Steve was still freakin out in the crate. So then Mom made Dad carry the crate to the kitchen cuz of course it's all about making Mom comfortable. And Dad was like, He's gonna keep up the neighbors and Mom was like, Just close the windows.

But then Dad was worried and we could still hear Steve crying and Dad felt bad. Mom said, Let him cry it out! But Dad won for once. So then they let him out and then he peed all over the floor.... and my bed. That's right, bitches. This is the second time MY BED has gotten jacked up by some visiting punk. (The first time bein' when fat camp Yankee had a 'rrhea disaster.)

Mom n Dad felt really bad about returning Steve to Becca's animal clinic to get boarded there but this was one time that me n short bus agreed on something. Though I think the only reason Chester didn't like Steve is cuz Chester likes being the numero uno dumb ass and Steve was tough competition.

Bad Things Happen in Threes

Wow does my life freaking suck. This past weekend was bader than usual for the following reasons: 1) Peluso dropped off his tard baby for five freaking days. Highlights include Yankee being an asshole to me, stealing my moose, and transforming our delicious water bowl into 75% spittle and 25% ewwww. 2) The Raiders lost 38-0. What the freak, Darrius Heyward Bey! 3) We got attacked at the park by some crazy f-ing german shepard. Now, some of you might know that about a year ago my ass got jumped by a renegade shepard while I was walkin' in the neighborhood and that mofo tore me up! (My fur grew back and I have moved on but Dad is still traumatized.) Well, this time, me n Mom n Holly n Tiger n Butthead was walking in Elysian. And up ahead we hear this commotion. And I was like, I'm in, yo! But Mom n Holly was like, Let's put them on leashes. So we was walking by and this guy is holding back this HUGE freakin' shepard who is up on his hind legs freakin out on our asses. So I was like, Yo, what you gonna do, BIOTCH. And Mom was like, Leave it! But then, just as we passed, the shepard's collar up n BROKE and that crazy freak came charging at us. N Mom went street on his ass. Damn, yo. She was straight up Eastside. Screamin "GET YOUR BLANKING DOG GET YOUR BLANKING DOG" over n over while her n Holly kicked him n I showed him my teeth n Chester cried n tried to run away but he was on the leash so it didn't work out so good. Finally those chump owners got their dog... and then the collar broke again! And that psycho was back on the attack! I thought Mom was gonna freakin lose it, specially when the dog went in for Chester and BIT him on the back. (That is MY JOB, holmes!!!) The owners got the shepard but Mom was still yellin' and the owner guy was lookin' all annoyed and was like "Calm down" and Mom was like "BLANK YOU YOUR BLANKING DOG BIT MY BLANKING DOG BLANK YOU!" But then we just ran away cuz that shepard was still bein' crazy. And Mom checked out poop-for-brains and discovered that the shepard hadn't broken his thick skin and he was even waggin' his stupid tail. And Mom's finger turned all black n blue from the leash or some shit n she is showin' it off like a gang tattoo.

Football No-Fun-day

So this past week has kinda really sucked for me and it's all because my dad was raised to root for a crappy team. I'm a Raiders fan, through n through, and that's cuz we are freakin' badasses.

N last Sunday was awesome cuz we freakin' showed those dog killa Eagles, yo. But, of course, my celebration was cut short. Because at the same time as my homies was laying the smack down, the Jets was shittin the bed like the time Yankee shit my bed that one time and never replaced it. So Dad packed up all his Jets stuff and covered Chester's Jets food bowl with masking tape -- He wanted to throw it out but Mom reminded him of how long it took to convince Chester it was okay to eat out of that bowl and made him keep it. Most rude of all was that Dad packed away MY RAIDERS JERSEY. He told Mom, It's not funny anymore! I was like WTF? When was it ever funny? It's AWESOME. I got a Charles Woodson jersey and I rock that shit every Sunday. All I can say is, guess who's playing this Sunday, fool? JETS VS RAIDERS. And it's not gonna be pretty. For the Jets.

Coyotes Isn't Just For Smuggling Mexicans

Today Mom and me went to the park just us which was AwEsOme! Except towards the end of the hike this guy passes us and goes, "There's a coyote up ahead. You may wanna leash your dog." And Mom was like, "Stell! Get over here now!" Cuz I was runnin' like a wild bitch who hasn't gotten a hike in FOREVER because I hadn't gotten a hike in forever. Anyways, I suffer the indignity of bein' on my freakin' leash and we keep walking for a bit and Mom's like, "I don't see anything, Stella." But as soon as she said that of course we saw it. Now usually these coyotes is some oogly-ass scrawny mofos that get all scared soon as they see my big fat mom walking over. But this one was pretty sturdy lookin', prolly my size. And this creep was just looking right at us, even when Mom tried to act tough and front like she was gonna attack (HA that's so funny I forget to laugh.) Since Mom's antics wasn't doin' nothing I started to turn on the gansta and I was like, "YO, you got a starin' problem, buddy?" and "Take a picture it'll last longer, chump!" And "MOM! Stop tightening my leash so freakin' short. JEEZ." Then Mom picks up a stick for God's knows why. But she don't move and she wouldn't let me get away to school that freak so we're just standing there like a couple of Chesters. Finally this dude comes jogging along and sees the staring contest and he's like, "I'll scare it away" and he runs down and yells and claps his hands and that dumb ass coyote skitters off and Mom ran us down to the parking lot. I wanted Mom to wait while I gave that peeping tom a taste of the East side, but Mom said, "Get in the car, Stella."

Back to School Sucking

Because Mom sucks, today we went to "Advanced" training classes. Basically, Mom thought it would be fun to torture me for her own amusement. The teacher seriously brought up getting her dog to go into the fridge and get a beer. WTF! You got a problem with your chubby legs? JEEZ! But the main part of today's ass I mean class okay I really did mean ass was to respond to some f-ing "clicker." Some of the other tard dogs in the class were all about touching their freakin nose to a popcicle stick for a click and a treat. Not this bitch! That clicker was seriously f-ed up. After a few loud clicks near my face for some measily hot dog bits I was like, peace, yo. I stopped even looking at Mom. Mom told the teacher I was scared of the clicker. Lezle said keep trying. By now I was heading back to the car. Finally Lezle asked Mom if she could make a clicking noise with her mouth. Apparently, Mom's face fat is good for more than eating. Lezle complimented Mom on being able to make a loud clicking sound. Way to go, Mom. You are an asshole.

Keepin' My Mother Freakin' Name

Yo listen up. Maybe you folks is heard the news that my parents are gonna get married so that me n Chester aren't bastard children no more. But no matter what stupid last name mama gets, I want you all to be clear: This bitch is Stella Nashorn to the mother-freakin' end, dude. Also, I would just like to say -- for the freakin' record -- that when dad was acting the tard today, down on one knee, dealing with mom's hysterical shite -- that me n Chester was chillin on the couch and didn't even look up when that bs was going down. You know why, holmes? Well, Chester didn't react cuz he's retarded. (Kinda a trick question.) But I didn't say nothin' cuz who's really surprised by this "news"? I mean, who the heck else gonna marry these fools? The best/only good part of the day was when Becca came over and hooked my ass up with some pizza. Mom didn't give me any of the goods cuz she was busy feeding herself. (Go ahead, Mom. Stuff your hole with pizza, ice cream and beers. I'm sure they make some great wedding mumus.)