My best friends are coming to Asheville tonight! I am so excited! I wonder if Mr. Chris still has that weird "Hey Brother" dog. I kind of hope not, because his sexuality is questionable, and he tries to lead me astray. He's a bad dog disguised in a good dog's body. Maybe I can devise a plot to bring him down this weekend and show Mr. Chris that "Hey Brother" is not the Purple Epic dog he first believed, but actually nothing more than a common low-level "sell to the regular vendor the first chance you get" Grey dog. We'll see how it goes. I get kind of stupid when Mr. Chris is around, so my plan will probably fall apart in the end.
Speaking of evil plans, I thought I found a way to end Tammy's incessant picking me up and rocking me like a baby habit, but it didn't work. I was outside, and saw lots of mud, so I romped around in it, thinking she didn't see me. My plan was to smack her right in the chest with muddy paws the next time she tried to pick me up. Unfortunately, she noticed the mud before we got into the house and made Ian carry me to the bathtub where I received an emergency scrub-down. I smelled good for a while, but later that day, some stupid-looking-kid spilled his Coke on my head. So much for being pretty for Mr. Chris. At least the Chewb can lick the sticky off me later tonight. That will make her happy. She's a "dumple don't."
My new role model is Stewie from "Family Guy." Now that kid knows some evil. I wish I had my own personal Stewie. I was going to link to the "Family Guy" website, but it is annoying and difficult to navigate, so they don't get my free link. Clean it up, Fox! I bet they hear that a lot. Yeah, jokes about Fox are actually getting old.
A web surfer in Harahan, Lousiana is wondering, "are pugs bad dogs." Unfortunately for him, he only stayed on my site for two pages, and I doubt he got the full picture of just how bad I can be. As a matter of fact, my new personal tag line is, "I'm evil." Tammy yells for me, and I run into the room and say, "I'm evil." It's very cute, but I guess you have to have a first-person experience to fully appreciate the cuteness of it. In being so cute, it is also evil, because it downplays the vast expanse of my evil, which is really sneaky on my part. So, I guess it's easy to see that Pugs are bad dogs. At least this Pug is a bad dog, and I'm pretty sure I was born that way, so all Pugs must be bad dogs too. If not bad,, they are at least quite ornery, which can be mistaken for bad by less dog-tolerant individuals.
Tammy has been doing this really annoying thing lately where she picks me up and tries to rock me like a baby. I am not a baby. I am a dog. So, I stiffen up my body and thrash around until she lets me go. She has been getting more and more persistent with it though, thinking I might cave in and "be her baby," but it's not going to work. I really wish I could break her of this soon. It's getting old.
It's been a long time since Tammy has issued a worldwide boycott, but today is the day she will start campaigning to crush the hopes and dreams of another misguided institution - the upcoming "Dukes of Hazzard Movie." As a grade-schooler, Tammy was so dedicated to the "Dukes of Hazzard" television show that she would only enter her mom's car by way of an open window, incurred many a bruise from sliding across the hood of the car, wore a trucker cap and really tacky second-hand cowboy boots from the flea market to better play the part of a Duke Boy, and actually dropped out of the Blue Birds (the elementary-aged division of Camp Fire USA) because it caused her to miss the show once a week. Once a week, people. Now that is dedication. (And yes, I also find it odd that Tammy emulated the Duke Boys instead of Daisy Duke, the Duke Girl. Maybe her mom wouldn't let her wear high-heals and short-shorts as an 8-year-old, or maybe she was just too ugly. I'm not sure.) As a side note, although Tammy's favorite Duke Boy was Bo, she told everyone it was Luke, because she felt sorry for Luke since Bo was the object of all the girls' affection.
Taking all this into consideration, it was no surprise that when Tammy read Cooter's statement today regarding his fervent disapproval of the new movie, she quickly jumped on the "Cooter Bandwagon" and took up arms against the tyranny that is the "Dukes of Hazzard Movie." She claims it has nothing to do with her hatred of Jessica Simpson, but I'm not so sure. So Tammy wants me to tell you all not to see the movie in the theater, not to rent it, not to buy it, and not to watch it when it is featured as the bad Sunday movie on TBS or TNT. You should also try to bad-mouth the movie and Jessica Simpson on every given occasion. For example, Tammy was having dinner at Buffalo's in Atlanta, and the waitress took the opportunity to bad-mouth Tom Cruise and his new movie. Tammy hopes you will follow this waitress's example and do the same in regards to the "Dukes of Hazzard Movie," and also Tom Cruise for that matter, because she hates him too.
Tammy has an excellent track record for bringing down businesses with her boycotts, so "Dukes of Hazzard Movie" beware!
I haven't blogged in a long time, because I have been at Mr. Chris's house, and he doesn't let me use his computer. The People had to go to Mobile, so they abandoned me at Mr. Chris's where I sat around watching him play World of Warcraft while I played the ever-so-exciting "Try not to Yawn" game with Chewbie. She wins that game every time. However, mid-way through the week, things got a little more exciting, because Mr. Chris got a new dog! No, not a replacement for The Chewb, but a brother for her! I am quite jealous, because at first I thought he was a pet for me, but alas, I am destined to remain without a pet to call my own.
So, the new dog is a Jack Russell Terrier, and his name was Radar, but Mr. Chris changed it to "Hey Brother" after a night filled with too many potent margaritas. Yes, his name is "Hey Brother." Not Brother, but "Hey Brother." The name Buster was also in the running, but did not make the final cut. Speaking of final cuts, "Hey Brother" is fixed. I had trouble getting past this detail, because boy dogs store their names on their "essence," and I wanted to learn his official dog name. I am very persistent, so I was determined to find his "essence" in order to learn his name. However, after several lengthy explanations from Mr. Chris about how "Hey Brother" didn't have an official dog name, I gave up the exploration. Twig, no berries really freaks me out.
The Woman took some picture of me, Hey Brother and The Chewb that I will post when Mr. Chris can spare 10 minutes out of his World of Warcraft addiction to email the pictures to me.
I am Mr. Chris's dowry. Bring it on ladies.