Hey Peoples and Pugs. What's up? Apparently, what is up is that Pugs across America are being really bad, possibly in response to me not getting any turkey this Thanksgiving, but most likely just because Pugs are bad dogs. A naive surfer in Detroit, Michigan found my site looking for, "how do I discipline my Pug." And another reader in Roanoke, Virginia found the stud of all Pugs site looking for info on, "Pugs barking at night."
First let me tell you that Pugs are not normal dogs. We are the most stubborn breed you can imagine encountering, and unlike all other dogs, we are not here for your pleasure - you are here to serve us. Beatings have no effect. Yelling just makes us more obstinate, because we can bark louder and longer than you can yell. A stern, commanding tone? Yeah, right - scratch my butt you feeble human! Shock collars? Don't make me laugh - I've been through two batteries and finally broke the thing from overruse!
The only punishment that has ever had any effect on me is isolation on The Dreaded Porch. The Porch has a large window into the living room through which I can see the People sitting on the couch having fun. The Porch also has a door that muffles the sound of my barking. So, I am stuck out on The Porch, watching the People have fun and barking to no avail. Oh yeah, and it's friggin' freezing in the Winter and roasting in the Summer. I do, however, get my revenge by peeing on every vertical surface of The Porch, so the People use this punishment sparingly. However, just the mention of The Porch sometimes stops me from doing whatever evil thing it is I am doing at the time. Note the use of the word "sometimes" in the previous sentence. There is no sure fire way to discipline a Pug. We are rascally little buggers. I like that word, "rascally" - one that is playfully mischievous.
When we go to the Gammy's house, I sleep in the room with the People. They make me sleep in my cage, and I don't like that, so I bark at them to let me out. When they put a sheet over my cage so I can't see them, I go right to sleep and bark no more. Take from that what you will, reader in Roanoke, Virginia.
I hope this entry has been educational to all you readers and that I have not dissuaded anyone from adopting a Pug. We are manageable little rascals, but we aren't the breed for everyone. You really have to love a Pug to own a Pug, and if you don't love us, then leave us for someone else to love.
Happy Birthday to Alli! Hooray for you! You are 17 today!
Thanksgiving is over, and I did not get any turkey this year. The People did not make Thanksgiving dinner like they have every other year, but they went to a friend's house instead and did not bring back any leftovers. They were feeling it by 4pm though. No leftovers for them either! This holiday was lame.
The People had an Art Show on Saturday. Just when I thought they were over ... They got up at 4:30am, and I was like - what the crap are you doing up? I thought Tammy was scared again and heard a noise in the house, but she wasn't. They were really up! They left when it was dark out and didn't get home until it was dark out again. I was alone the whole time. That's no way for a Pug to live. Whoah is me.
The People are having a yard sale this weekend. They spent all day Sunday getting stuff ready for it. I will not be sold in the yard sale. Tammy is selling a big box of stuffed animals though, and I would really like to keep them for myself. I don't have any money though. This has been a bad weekend for the Pug. Hopefully something will happen to lift my spirits ...
Your cell phone esplode! Doesn't that kid look like a hoodlum wanna be? I wish N64 or PS2 units would esplode too. Then I would get more play time!!
This weekend the People started rummaging around the house looking for things to sell in their upcoming yard sale. No, I am not for sale, kind of unfortunately, because I'm bored with these People, but kind of good, because at least I know how to manipulate them. Anyway, Tammy cleaned out some of her "little girl keepsake boxes" and threw out a teddy bear that she got in elementary school. The teddy called to me from the garbage to save him, because he knew he meant more to Tammy than to be tossed in the trash to rot away in a landfill. He said he helped Tammy through the hard times when she puked a lot and was mocked. Besides, she won him by selling a lot of candy bars, and he was one of her few toys. So, I saved him. Tammy let me have him, because she thought it was sweet that I dug through the trash to save him. I eventually ate off his nose (by the end of the night) and he mysteriously disappeared. I guess he wasn't so keen on my "saving" him after all. I hope his nose passes through me quickly. It was kind of sharp!
Last night I heard Mr. Chris whistling for me. I still haven't found him in the house though. I won't sleep until he shows himself!!
I am officially deeming November, "National Achondroplasia Awareness Month" due to the high volume of midget talk I have heard.
A reader in Australia is wondering if two midgets have a baby, will the baby be a midget too? Well, Aussie, let's get our terms straight. What you are probably thinking of as a midget is actually not a midget. A midget is someone exceptionally diminutive in size, with everything -- arms, legs, etc. -- in proportion. What I think of as a midget is someone who is not proportional, but has a large head and stubby arms and legs, and is, of course, very short. These Little People suffer from a condition known as Achondroplasia, which affects one in 10,000 people all over the world. There are other conditions that cause short stature, but Achondroplasia is the most common, accounting for about 80% of all incidents of Little People. So, to avoid insulting people any further, I will refer to people with this condition as "Little People," as I have found this the least offensive term to people with Achondroplasia. Now, back to the question. The risk that an individual with Achondroplasia will pass the mutant gene on to each child is 50%. An individual with Achondroplasia who has a partner with average stature has a 50% risk of having a child with Achondroplasia. When both parents have Achondroplasia, the risks to their offspring are: 25% normal stature; 50% Achondroplasia; and 25% homozygous Achondroplasia, which is a lethal condition.
So, there is your educational information for the day. Let's all pass on this information to someone in honor of "National Achondroplasia Awareness Month!" I hope no little people were offended in the making of this blog entry. I love you all. I wish you owned me. I could be your mascot or something. That would be cool.
Oh my badness, I had the coolest hit today from someone in Calgary Canada looking for "pugs and midgets." I love midgets! Can you especially imagine a Canadian midget? It is just too much for me to handle. I love Canadian midgets! They should make a movie about a Canadian midget and a Pug lost in the Canadian wilderness, fighting bears and giant eagles that try to carry them off to their nest. That would be super duper. The Pug would save the midget's life, and they would be best friends forever. There could be a second movie too about when they returned to civilization, the Pug and midget would move in together and had to dress up like ladies so they could get good jobs on a soap opera television show. That would be hilarious! The midget would dress up like a French Maid and wear fish net panty hose, and the Pug would have to dress up like a Jedi Princess with those weird hair buns. Trust me, it would be really funny.
Tammy's pug a day calendar's quote of the day is pretty cool, "When the aliens come, I hope they bring their dogs." - Dan Moore. Man, I hope the aliens are midgets! They should make a movie about midget aliens who come visit Earth and a Pug that sneaks on their ship while they are leaving. They would fight space monsters and the Pug would save the aliens' lives. There could be a second movie too about when they brought the Pug back to Earth and moved in with him and had to dress up like ladies so they could get good jobs on a soap opera television show! Trust me, this idea is gold! I wouldn't be surprised if that Spielberg character didn't swipe it right out from under me!
This is Norman's blog, not a "Virgin Mary Grilled Cheese Sandwich." I was browsing through Ebay today, and apparently it is important to specify in the title of an item that the item is not a "Virgin Mary Grilled Cheese Sandwich" lest someone should get confused. So, if you came here looking for a "Virgin Mary Grilled Cheese Sandwich," keep looking, because I ate it.
Ten years ago, some lady in Florida was cooking a grilled cheese sandwich with no butter or oil (guh-rosse), and took one bite out of it, only to see an image of the Blessed Virgin Mother staring back at her. How creepy. She put the sandwich in a plastic bag and sat it on her nightstand for the next ten years. Again, how creepy. If it had been Mr. Chris, I bet he would have eaten it anyway, unless maybe it started talking to him. He likes food, and he doesn't let anything get between him and the eating of the food. He probably would have taken a picture of it, but only if he could eat the other half of the sandwich while photographing it. He would certainly try to reproduce the sandwich when he wasn't hungry anymore, but that sandwich would also take a fall in the end. If Mr. Chris was married to the lady that kept the sammich (yeah, I say it that way too) on her nightstand for ten years, he would have eaten it while she was sleeping. That would be funny.
Victor should put the Blessed Count on Ebay. I bet he could get some cash for it.
Mr. Chris is trying to keep a secret. We'll see how long he can take it. Note that the secret has nothing to do with the "Virgin Mary Grilled Cheese Sandwich" or the Blessed Count.
I was bad today. I barked at Tammy while she tried to enjoy her lunch time away from the office. She went back to work hoarse from yelling at me to shut it. I did not, in fact, shut it.
I signed up for Yahoo! Messenger today, and I had trouble finding a username. ihatemobile was already taken! I had to settle for mobileislame. I'm surprised it wasn't taken too. I already have Windows Messenger, and nobody needs two messenger services, but Tammy's sister is signed up for the Yahoo! Messenger, so Tammy wanted to sign up too so they can chat.
I like punctuation marks within names. Maybe I will change my name to Norman! or Norman? or maybe Norman@#!*. Wait - that's already what Ian calls me in the PG version of the script of my life ...
OK Peoples, I am back from the Doggy Boarding House. I had an overall good time. I was a bit apprehensive at first, because I missed the People, and there were other boy dogs there that kind of freaked me out, but I warmed up the second day and had a good time. I don't prefer boy dogs. I like the Ladies!
The People are back from their show in Covington Louisiana, and they said it was a pretty good show. They got stuck at the end of the street, so they said the traffic wasn't as good as it could have been, but a couple of big sales at the end of the show made it worth their while. They wanted me to warn you all to never stay at the Courtyard by Marriott in Covington. It was the worst night they have ever spent at a hotel. The beds are hard, pillows thin and air conditioning loud. All in all, a bad combo. They stayed the second night at the Holiday Inn which was much more pleasant. Anyway, there is your Public Service Announcement for the week. I wonder if the week they had to sleep with me at the Gammy's house was worse than the Marriott! I snore loud!
It has finally happened! I got my first hit for dog anti-depressants! Apparently a dog in Tucson, Arizona is sad that he's flying, and his owner is trying to dope him up so he will get over it! There are a lot of ways to cure a dog of depression. I have already covered this area a couple of months ago, but let's revisit it. How to pull your dog out of a deep depression:
1 - Scratch the can-can for a good 30 minutes, preferrably with a stiff hairbrush, even though the People are opposed to this method.
2 - Licky boom-boom down. Again, the People are opposed to this.
3 - Give your dog something pretty to destroy, like one of your Art Show ribbons or something.
4 - Burn down your darkroom.
5 - Quit your job and lay around on the couch all day with the dog, watching sassy Judge shows.
6 - Run over your gaming system with a really large truck.
7 - Let your dog sleep in the bed. If you are a woman, kick your Ian out of the bed in favour of the dog.
8 - Invite your Mr. Chris over for a good face lickin'. Note that you cannot yell at the dog or the Mr. Chris for this act, no matter how long it may persist.
9 - A trip to the beach with no leash attached!
10 - Attach the shock collar to your neck and give the dog the remote control.
As I'm sure you can see, there are many ways to cheer up your dog that do not involve drugs. I suggest you find a plan that works best for your dog. Note that you have no say in his solution.
It's Puerto Rican Invasion Day, so lock up your pretty daughters and cover any exposed skin to protect from parasitic hairy invasions.
The People have an Art Show in Louisiana this weekend, and I get to go to a Doggy Boarding House. We'll see how that goes. I heard tell of me having to wear a diaper if I whiz on stuff. Of course I'm going to whiz on stuff. We'll see how far this diaper thing goes. There might be some tears at the Doggy Boarding House, and I don't mean mine.
I went to the PetSmart for a bath and primping, and when Tammy picked me up, they had not trimmed my toe nails. The only reason Tammy takes me to the PetSmart is to have my nails trimmed, because it takes three people to hold me down to get the job done. Well, 40 minutes and three PetSmart employees later, I had my nails trimmed. Oh yeah, I said 40 minutes and three employees! I really hate to have my nails trimmed. Tammy was really ticked off. We got a $10 gift card for her inconvenience. She was slightly appeased by this, because she likes free stuff.
Poor Chewb-a-Lube has heartworms. Tammy says if Chewbie dies, she is going to give me to Mr. Chris to console him, and she is going to get a Frenchie to console herself. She says that since she is just trading me in, she has found a loophole in Ian's "Dog free for as long as Norman previously lived" act of 2001. In case you are not familiar with this piece of legislation, it states that when I die, Tammy is not allowed to get another dog for as many years as I was alive. Ian has not had this formally passed through Congress, as he is not a good lobbyist, but we follow different rules in our household. Mr. Chris says Chewbie is not going to die, but it's good to have a plan just in case. He will be inconsolable for about 15 minutes ...
Tammy's pug-a-day calendar has a really stoopid quote today. "Dogs have not the power of comparing. A dog will take a small piece of meat as readily as a large, when both are before him." First of all, this quote is by Samuel Johnson. I think Tammy works with this guy, except he goes by his middle name - Glen - at work. I can see why since his real name is attached to such a stoopid quote. And, he doesn't even have a dog, so what does he know about dogs? Secondly, dogs do indeed have the "power" of comparing. If I see Mr. Chris and Ian both sitting on the couch, I am going to jump on and lick Mr. Chris every single time! I compare past experience with future experience and know that Ian will throw me off the couch, but Mr. Chris will "pretend" to not want me to lick his neck all the while he's laughing and wanting more! Thirdly, who speaks like this? "Have not the power of comparing?" What the crap does that mean? Is this guy trying to be Yoda? Yoda he is trying to be. Comparing dogs cannot do. In the butt I will be kicking this dude if see him sometime soon I will.
I woke up this morning and it was cuh-old outside. My tootsies are still trying to thaw out! I broke into the Peoples' cuddle to get warmed up. (Ian was not pleased about this.) Note - Ian does not like being licked in the face. The cold must have erased this fact from my memory, because anyone who has read any of my blog can deduce that Ian does not like to be licked in the face. Anyway, it's friggin' freezing in Mobile Mr. Bigglesworth!
I am apparently going to a Doggy Boarding House next weekend. Not this weekend, as Tammy has repeated a million times, but next weekend. As if I can't understand that this weekend is not next weekend - I'm a blogging dog for badness sake! Tammy says there will be lots of other doggies there to play with! I am excited. I haven't played with another dog in a long time. I miss Chewbie, but I won't go into that today. Chewbie songs were last month's theme. This month doesn't have a theme, but if it did, it wouldn't be Chewbie songs.
I got some peas last night. Tammy trained me to do "tricks" using peas when I was a pup. Ian had some peas left over on his plate after dinner, and Tammy talked him into letting me have them. Sure, I got them one at a time, and I had to do a humiliating trick for each one, but still, I got some peas! I really like peas. I also like pears. Tammy used pears to make me humiliate myself when she didn't have peas. I guess they're the same as peas, just with an 'r' in the name.
It appears more people have "lifted their leg" on President Bush than John Kerry, as President Bush gets to keep on being President. It would really suck to not get re-elected, because you still get to be President for a couple more months, but no one thinks of you as the real President. What a serious downer that would be. I would like to be the First Dog one day, but Ian has no political aspirations, and Tammy said she wouldn't want to be President. Apparently, there is a lot of "work" involved in the job, and she has social anxiety issues, and I'm sure the job requires someone who is not paralyzed in large groups without Ian. Oh yeah, and this country is super-sexist, and she wouldn't even get a call-back if she sent in her resume - someone somewhere would be using it in the men's room to wipe their "hands" on. Yes, that's how the "paper towels" are re-filled in men's rooms - with Tammy's resume. Tammy cannot confirm this, because she is not allowed in the men's room, but her restricted access to this area is just further confirmation that she is correct. For some reason I am on a Tammy's rights kick today. She must be controlling my mind again.
So, my evil appears to be leaking out. I am getting a little gray in my muzzle, and I am mellowing out a bit - thus, my evil must be leaking. If anyone knows how to stop the leakage, please let me know. I have tried adding more fiber to my diet, but it has not worked yet. Maybe +5 Piggy of Pestilence is not as high in fiber as I thought.
Blasted Art Shows! So, the People did another Art Show this weekend at the Museum here in crap-hole Mobile, and the Museum gave them two purchase awards and is putting the two pieces in their permanent collection. Now the People are all excited about this! So, despite the fact that their sales are in the pooper, they are continually encouraged with these awards! I must admit that the ribbons they got this weekend are way cool. I hope to eat one very soon.
The People say that this show was the worst show ever, and to let all Artists out there know NOT to do the "Azalea Arts & Crafts Festival" in Mobile ever (unless the People don't like you, in which case, you should definitely keep this event on your calendar!). There were no people there, and no matter how great your Art is, you can't sell to the pavement. So there, I've actually earned my good boy bone this time.
Another surfer from Texas found my site this weekend. This time, someone from Rowlett, Texas was looking for an "alabama pug meet up." Unfortunately, I do not know of any kind of Pug Meet held in Alabama. I did miss the PugFest in Ohio though. The People were not willing to drive me up there. Stupid the People.
On a strange note, Mr. Chris has just informed me that birdseed in stockings makes for excellent artificial breasts. So, if you're in to things like dressing up in women's clothes, this tip may help you out.