H2Ohmygod You So Dumb

So obvilessly da cats joining our house was the worst day of my life (close second bein' when my Facebook did got disabled or a second second bein' when we went to the least funnest place on Earth or a third second bein' that time I got no effin' respect for saving my whole family.) 

Anywhoseyourdaddy, when the craps was shittens I had to teach em to BACK OFF MY FOOD. This lean bitch keep a regimented diet and it don't involve skank-ass feral kitty fur. Moo-is-for-mom was always like, Stell, relax, they weigh two pounds! N I was like, Stella gonna weigh two pounds if pee-on-the-bed Vegas and cry-for-no-reason Eden keep eating MY vittles.

'Parently Eden really took my heartfelt recommendation cuz now not only does she steer clear of my food, tan-and-bland will not drink out of the communal water bowl. That's right, fool. She will not drink water. She WILL drink out of the toilet (classy!) or the leftover droplets from the shower or the sink. She'd even prolly drink Donald's poo-hole but Chestard gots a monopoly on that reservoir.

Mom tried puttin' out a new "neutral zone" water bowl but no-thoughts-behind-those-eyes-Eden still didn't get it. I heard Dad tell Mom, "I feel like we're gonna end up bringing this cat to the vet and they gonna say she's dying of dehydration." Oh. Jeez. That would be so tragic. Sad face. But seriously, what is the point of living if you that dumb. Maybe I should ask Chester.

Peace.

Princess Eden on in her throne

Runner's Low

It ain't been a great week for this bitch. The leg has been 'proving but what did not help the healin' process was mom's ultimate betrayal: Mom took Donald for a run. I know whatchoo thinkin'.Mom RUN? And not just in the euphemism way like runnin' to da store to buy food, or runnin' out for lunch (extra mayo on the sandwich AND on the side, please), or runnin' up the credit card bill...on food. No I mean run in the actual, literal (real literal) run way. The other night working-out-means-two-dinners-worth-of-dinner-Mom announced to not-working-out-means-two-dinners-worth-of-dinner Dad, I'm gonna jog around da Rose Bowl. Dad was like, Are you taking the boys? Which is code for, You don't need me to walk them, do you? Mom was like, I just walked them like I always do except when you do which is never. But then she was like, You know, I've never tried jogging with Donald. Maybe I'll take him and see how it goes.

I was hearin' this convo and I was not happy for several reasons: One reason that I have a dang LAME LEG and it sucks, two reason that I LOVE the Rose Bowl (not as much as Griffith or Elysian or Ernest Debs or Silver Lake Reservoir but pickins' is slim and a chola girl gotta take what she can get) and third reason that of anyone to get chosen over my ass, it gotta be Dontald? That stunty weinermobile lay down on the ground when we walk more than a mile, or even 'round the block. In fact, it ain't a crazy sight to see Puppy Bear (Psycho killer) Stare laying down to EAT. Who lay down to eat? (Besides the lump. And Mom n Dad if they could figure out how to do it without choking.)

Anyways, Mom came home sweaty like she jogged 30 miles but really it only 3. She had hardly been gone any time at all so I was thinking YUP TOLD YOU IT WOULDN'T WORK JEEZ. But then she was all, Babe meaning Dad (gross!), he did SO GOOD. He kept up AWESOME. I can't believe I never took him jogging before. I --

That's where Stella stopped listening and hobbled my ass to the bedroom, cuz ARE YOU KIDDING? Jogging with Mom or as I call it "Mom jog, Stella walk just a little faster than usual" is like the one thing this bitch got over the low-speed traveling quarter pound Hebrew nationals.

To make it even worse, all night long Mom n Dad was talking about how mute-brute Donald was havin' a runner's high and then Chestwerp was trying to catch a contact runner's high and Stella was lyin' on the bed havin' the ultimate runner's low.

I know it hard to tell cuz he so low to da ground anyways, but this is Dorkald, too lazy to stand up to eat. (You know it bad when Queefster givin' the side eye.)

My brothers.

Pain in the

LEG. Ugh!!!

Oh my dog, you guys. This bitch has NOT been doin' so fly. Last Thursday Mom came home to find my ass on three (sexy) legs. Mom was like, "Stella what happened to your foot oh I have to go take care of the lump I'll be back." A million years later she be back to check on me. She was all pretending to be a doctor and I was like, You not Becca! What you think you gonna learn from squeezing on my haunches like you squeeze your pants over your front butt (the scale might say you 5 pounds from your pre-pregnancy weight but Stella says your body disagree). 

Make-it-stop-Mom asked better-but-still-annoying-Dad, Was she like this when you got home? And Dad: Did not know. Like, he seriously had been so lump-obsessed he did not notice that when he come home and open the bedroom door it were only Tweedle Dumbald and Tweedle Dumbster who come runnin' out.

Baby-spitup-is-the-new-deoderant-mom-n-dad 'cluded that it weren't broken. ("We'd be able to tell if it were broken, right?" Yeah. Right?" "Yeah...You don't think it's broken do you?"). So Mom gave me some peanut butter with a hard thing in it and was like, Let's see how she be tomorrow. But when tomorrow came this cool-ass mutt was still hurtin' like Chester's face hurt my soul.

So martyr Mom took my ass to da vet. The vet was like, It's a sprain. And then he STABBED ME IN THE NECK. And when I took it like Dad takes Mom's shit, the vet be like, "She takes shots well." And I was like, Damn straight. What kinda chola I be if I couldn't take a hit now n then?

Anyways, I still feel a ways from "aight" but I think the sausage with hard things Mom been giving me been helpin' a little and after a few days off my game I even been able to lay the smack down and tell off a few of the punk-ass neighborhood dogs who think it OK to walk past my window. (It not.)

As for what happened to cause this effed up sitch-uation... Yo, Stella ain't a narc. But let's just say, sometimes evil things come in cuddly block-head packages. With feet that pretend to be legs.

I COULD be any louder

Every body know that if you live in my house and you a dog and maybe if you a cat too, your day gots to start with a little ass kickin. The loving-but-firm booty whipping is as simple as Chester. You simply walk out into the hall and I tackle your ass. This is how it's been since the beginning of time (like, when me n mom lived in Hollywood just us and life was less complicated and also smarter). Back then there wasn't nobody to tackle so I would jump on mom and she would laugh because her own poor life decisions hadn't drained the fun out of her yet.

But now suddenly large-and-in-charge mom and large-but-not-in-charge dad be hatin' on my routine. They be like, "Really, Stella?" and "Oh my God could you be any louder." I'm like, umm, first of alls, Yes, really, chins-to-China Mom, and also, Wow, actually I could be so much louder SEE CHECK THIS OUT I AM TALKING TO THAT NEIGHBOR POOCH WHO BE FRONTIN' ALL DAY AND OWWWWW MOM DON'T PULL ME BY MY COLLAR I'M GONNA CALL CESAR MILAN AND HE WILL SSSSSHHH YO ASS, JEEZ.

I just feel like milksupply mom gotta axe herself, Is this really worth da stress it is clearly causin' her to yell at the one being in her life who make the least amount of mess for her? (Think.About.It) I'm just releasin' a little steam in the morning by reminding the redheaded stumpchildren they suck butthole and not in a delicious way.

Donald wants to live with the neighbors and I am totally supportive of that

Yo so everybody know Donald be a weird dude but homeboy has really ratcheted up da crazy in recent months.It all started in October when mom n the lump went to buy a video lump monitor in Long Beach. It was flippin' hot so mom left the windows in the bedroom open and some fans on. Me n the redheaded lowriders was chillin. I was nappin, drinkin a little agua, okay, yes I mighta even given my undercarriage a little lick. But Donald was actin crazy like how mom acts when dad say he gonna say he gonna take care of that thing he said he was gonna take care of and mom wanna know, when you gonna stop will do it and just done it.


Anyway Don'tald was gettin more n more frantic.  I was like, Yo. What is going on with your ass (besides smelling delicious no wonder Chester eats it for breakfast lunch and afternoon snacks)? But Fat Baby didn't answer because he only talk "with his eyes" as loser face mom says.


Then he did it. That stumpy leg weirdo jumped out da window. Through the screen. To the pavement like 7 feet below or if you measuring in Donald feet like 346 feet.The neighbors found puppy bear and seen the fallen screen and seen the broken banana plant that silent-but-ugly landed on.  They called mom but mom was like, I'm with the lump in Long Beach I suck so bad. They were like, it's ok, we like him eventhough he is an aloof weirdo.


Dad put back the screen and things went back to normal or I guess I should say the new normal in this post-lump life. And then he did it again. Same screen, same banana plant, same neighbors rescued his ginger wide load. And then mom n dad was like, hmmm, I guess we should close the window.It seemed like that did the trick. Man, mom n dad is so smart sometimes.


But then a few months later they left for Christmas in Connecticut or as I like to say, Lumpmas is the Dumpest.While mom n dad was across the country wearing coats like that's fun we was kickin it with our homegirl Cara who seem to tolerate my idiot brothers like dad has tolerated mom all these years. I was havin a bomb ass time but I guess Dumbald wasn't cuz when Cara was out one day, Two-inch-inseam jumped through the plywood section of the window by the air conditioner (yeah I know another question could be why mom n dad still had the a/c in December).


The neighbors brought put-the-stubby-in-stubborn inside and let him play with their dog and also gave him chicken because I guess you get rewarded for breaking through wood with your face.
Mom n dad took out the air conditioner and closed the window (I told you they was geniuses) but everytime we hangin outside Doucheald go to the neighbors door or just walk right in if he can push the door open with his frying pan face and they seem to love him despite his Significant flaws so I say next time he decide to throw himself out the window onto dad's broken banana plant I hope the neighbors think about a permanent Dopeald  'doption.

Hate to admit it, but that booty be like an apple cinnamon Glade plug-in.

Can You Hear Me Now?

So for the last couple months years always, Cheesetwerp has been seriously stubborn.  Like, when we out for a walk (much shorter since why-can't-we-just-let-them-out-back Dad started taking us) Molestard gotta STOP in his tracks, then, with a glaring old man face he WAIT, and then he slowly walk to the tree he want to pee on, and then he sniff around for half a year, and then he go, sometimes.  I be like, Dude. Just tree n pee that shit it ain't like six steps and he look at me like I just spoke English.

He also don't come when still-fat-but-not-as-fat-but-still-fat Mom is calling yelling "Bedroom!" when it's time for us to get locked up for the day like prisoners or unloved dogs.  Sometimes she have to go stompin' around and find leaky eye Chest-durrrr who is usually hunting for crumbs in the kitchen (when his food bowl be full) or curled up looking old on MY favorite chair in da living room or that couple times he was INSIDE the cats' litterbox like it were his own private dog house havin' an all you can excrete cat turd buffet.

Anyhows, my points is it wasn't initially that 'prising when Mom was callin' his ass for a treat and he not comin'.  But then it was sort of weird cuz "treat" is the only word he knows besides (probably) his name.  And then it was like really weird cuz he was like right on the other side of the couch.

And that's when Mom n Dad figured out:  Holy Hearingaid, Chesturd is deaf.  Like, way deaf.  Like, he probably can't even hear when Mom is "asking" Dad to help with the lump person.  Mom n Dad was all confused like, How long this been going on?  N, How we didn't know?  N I was like, UH, HELLO?  You people has been lump-obsessed for the last three months and even before that it was a lot more, Let's buy these stupid tiny clothings and a lot less, Thank you for cleaning the sweat off my legs with your tongue, Stella.

But I digressin'.  Point is, Mom n Dad now tryin' to be a little more 'pathetic to when Chester be acting like he stubborn but really he can't be hearing.  However, does not having good ears mean you poop on the floor TWICE while Mom be leashing you up this Saturday cuz your butt get excited to go out and can't wait the 42 seconds 'til you outside?  'pparently so. 

Guess I'll just talk to you by kicking your ass.

Sexist Bitch in Eagle Rock

Yo.  Man, I been neglectin' this blog!  It's been almost a year since my last post so lemme fill yo asses in on what's up with my ass.  (Notice I said what's UP with my ass and not IN my ass so get the eff outta there Chester!)

First, mom got fat.  Like, more than regular mom fat.  Like, we was going to Elysian and mom was comin' home like, Guess what babe? (that's what she calls dad when she likes him) Chester is getting faster at the park!  He kept up so good!  And I was like, Umm, no.  Yo ass is getting slow.  Face the fats. 

It went on for months and months.  It got so bad she had to get all new clothes.  Excuse me?  This bitch has worn the same size coat since she was on the streets! 

Then one day mom was like, We need to move.  I'm so fat we need a second bedroom to put the fat into.  (Ok she didn't say that last part but why the heck else we gotta leave our den?) And dad was like, No, we can make things work here.  And mom was like, I always win.  And dad was like, No you don't ok yes you do. 

So mom found a place in Eagle Rock and dad was like, I don't like it.  And mom was like,......

So we moved to Eagle Rock.  And Mom got fatter and fatter until one day she was like, My water broke.  And I was like, Yeah just like when Chester's "water breaks" and everyone yells and we have to strip the bed and wash all the sheets.  Then Dad came home and was like, Is this really happening?  And Mom was like, Yes.  And then they left and came back two days later with some weird little lump person that they are calling "Aberdeen" even though Aberdeen is where me n the redheaded losers barked in the car while Mom n Dad was looking under some weird bridge and isn't a name at all. 

bridge.

lump.

Peace.