INJUSTICE!!! Why didn't I think of this??
Misery.
Sincerely,
Beans A. Wienerdog
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
March 19, 2013
Dear Diary,
I smiled today. I know, amazing. I can't believe it either. While shopping for gourmet cheeses on line, I got off the beaten path and ended up on YouTube. As one does. And I came across this GEM. Sweet Florida blueberries!! I could watch this all day. Silly humans. Thinking that all dogs were put on this Earth to catch things. Why would we do this? You're throwing MY stuff. And I should go catch it? The mini-person throws his dinner all over the floor. He doesn't say, "Go get it!! Go get it!! Catch it! Come on! Good Mama!" No. No is doesn't. And if he did, boy howdy there would be hell to pay. So why is it ok for dogs?!?!? Injustice.
I do feel for this little pup. Being that I can read "dog," I'll let you in on what this dog was thinking. "Oh lordy, I have to catch this? Ugh. Fine. Ok, I'll trrryyyy.... and! I fell over. I think I'll just stay here for a minute to see if they feel bad... NOPE! Not feeling bad. Laughing. Swell."
He's doomed to a life of learning how to catch and being haunted by the laughs of the humans as his fuzzy non-weeble body falls to the ground time and time again. Me? I just watch the stuff the humans toss go right past me. And then look at them with my best, "You disgust me," look. And I saunter off. (Perhaps a spite poo is in order?)
I haven't said misery once in this entry! What's happening to me? Misery. Oh phew. There it is.
Sincerely,
Beans A. Wienerdog
I smiled today. I know, amazing. I can't believe it either. While shopping for gourmet cheeses on line, I got off the beaten path and ended up on YouTube. As one does. And I came across this GEM. Sweet Florida blueberries!! I could watch this all day. Silly humans. Thinking that all dogs were put on this Earth to catch things. Why would we do this? You're throwing MY stuff. And I should go catch it? The mini-person throws his dinner all over the floor. He doesn't say, "Go get it!! Go get it!! Catch it! Come on! Good Mama!" No. No is doesn't. And if he did, boy howdy there would be hell to pay. So why is it ok for dogs?!?!? Injustice.
I do feel for this little pup. Being that I can read "dog," I'll let you in on what this dog was thinking. "Oh lordy, I have to catch this? Ugh. Fine. Ok, I'll trrryyyy.... and! I fell over. I think I'll just stay here for a minute to see if they feel bad... NOPE! Not feeling bad. Laughing. Swell."
He's doomed to a life of learning how to catch and being haunted by the laughs of the humans as his fuzzy non-weeble body falls to the ground time and time again. Me? I just watch the stuff the humans toss go right past me. And then look at them with my best, "You disgust me," look. And I saunter off. (Perhaps a spite poo is in order?)
I haven't said misery once in this entry! What's happening to me? Misery. Oh phew. There it is.
Sincerely,
Beans A. Wienerdog
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
March 13, 2013
Dear Diary,
There is a news story today about a dog that ate 111 pennies.
He's alive. Injustice. Huzzah another dumb terrier wondering around eating change who MAKES THE NEWS. I do amazing things ALL THE TIME and where is my press??? Why does Victoria Secret not sponsor me? I keep them in business for goodness sakes. Mother Person has a VS gold card thanks to me and my "habit." What do I get out of it? Nothing. Misery.
But alas, Penny Pooch, here are some tips. Eat things that don't kill you. (Other than grapes and chocolate, they're delicious and totally worth it.) Pennies?!? Ugh. They are much too tart and the aftertaste is off putting. Now, you know what tastes good? 20 dolla bills, y'all. Hundreds are gourmet divinity, if you can get your muzzle on them. Sure, it causes some commotion from the people. But usually in the, "Where did I put that!!?!!?" rather than, "YOU ARE A TERRIBLE DOG!" So that's a win-win in my book. If I can cough it up whole, let it dry out and then "find" it for her, I sometimes get a treat. And THAT my friend, is how a pro does this. So lay off the pennies. They're heavy. They're not even going to be currency much longer. They're not even that shiny. It's stupid. And most importantly, it's NOT NEWS WORTHY. I certainly hope the AP just calms down for a hot second and recognizes how cute and adorable I am.
I mean, can you stand it? The wisdom behind those eyes. Blinding.
Till later, Diary. The misery, I'm sure, will continue.
Sincerely,
Beans A. Wienerdog
There is a news story today about a dog that ate 111 pennies.
He's alive. Injustice. Huzzah another dumb terrier wondering around eating change who MAKES THE NEWS. I do amazing things ALL THE TIME and where is my press??? Why does Victoria Secret not sponsor me? I keep them in business for goodness sakes. Mother Person has a VS gold card thanks to me and my "habit." What do I get out of it? Nothing. Misery.
But alas, Penny Pooch, here are some tips. Eat things that don't kill you. (Other than grapes and chocolate, they're delicious and totally worth it.) Pennies?!? Ugh. They are much too tart and the aftertaste is off putting. Now, you know what tastes good? 20 dolla bills, y'all. Hundreds are gourmet divinity, if you can get your muzzle on them. Sure, it causes some commotion from the people. But usually in the, "Where did I put that!!?!!?" rather than, "YOU ARE A TERRIBLE DOG!" So that's a win-win in my book. If I can cough it up whole, let it dry out and then "find" it for her, I sometimes get a treat. And THAT my friend, is how a pro does this. So lay off the pennies. They're heavy. They're not even going to be currency much longer. They're not even that shiny. It's stupid. And most importantly, it's NOT NEWS WORTHY. I certainly hope the AP just calms down for a hot second and recognizes how cute and adorable I am.
I mean, can you stand it? The wisdom behind those eyes. Blinding.
Till later, Diary. The misery, I'm sure, will continue.
Sincerely,
Beans A. Wienerdog
Friday, March 8, 2013
March 8, 2013
Dear Diary,
Misery.
This is so metaphorical for my life. I try to find some warmth and comfort on this cold ball of mud called Earth. I find something fuzzy, fluffy even. I snuggle in, feeling the safety of the organic cotton swaddling my sinewy body. AND BOOM!! I'm in an arm hole. What is that?!!? Who does that?!?! Oh, people with arms. Sure. Sure, rub it in that I and the mighty T-Rex share the same leg to body length ratio issues. I see the memes. I know I'm the butt of jokes. That's on-line hazing people. Injustice.
Things haven't changed much. Same ol' same ol'. Sleep. Snuggle. Throw up a pile of thread from left over socks stuck in the gullet. Read the NY Times Real Estate section. Sniff. Repeat. The mini-person is "potty training" now. Mother Person and Soft Touch think he's just "soooo clever." Not for nothing, but I was paper trained in a weekend. When I was 12 weeks old. Why the arrested development with this one?!?! (Now I have the song "Tennessee" in my head, and a penchant to upgrade my Netflix account...) I mean, sure, I happy wee sometimes. I spite poo more than I wish I had to. I rarely spite wee anymore. (Results aren't as satisfying.) The mini thing is more than happy to point out my spite poos and run around the apartment all pell mell about "bad wiener dog! bad wiener dog!!" AM I THE BAD ONE?!?! Or is that horrendous mother of mine who only gave me 27 seconds of snuggles and love when she came home?? Injustice!!! I deserve 45 on the SHORT end. Truly it should be more like 5 minutes, unless you bore me then it's fine if I leave. You deny me snuggles, you get a deuce in the middle of the bathmat. That's how this goes. Get used to it. Misery.
I have to go source a decent blanket. And I better get a handful of treats tonight, or bathmats beware.
Sincerely,
Beans A. Wienerdog
Saturday, August 25, 2012
August 25th, 2012
Dear Diary,
It is a dark dark day. The internet has always been my happy haven for on-line poker, ordering Omaha Steaks, and laughing at cat videos (cats are so dumb!!!). But now, there is a black hole of misery and injustice that is ruining the internet AS WE KNOW IT. Hateful speech and discrimination!!!! Dog-shaming.com. WHAT IS THIS!??!!? People finding fault in dogs?!?!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?! What is even WORSE is that people are asking Mother-Person to put ME on there. ME. Beans Aloysius Wienerdog. INJUSTICE.
I won't have it. So I am fighting back the only way I know how: to act first.
Take that internet. Take that people. You can't shame me!! I SHAME YOU FIRST. Neener neener. (And yes, that is my nose moisture on the paper. It's hard getting things out of a printer when you don't have thumbs.)
Sincerely,
Beans A. Wienerdog
It is a dark dark day. The internet has always been my happy haven for on-line poker, ordering Omaha Steaks, and laughing at cat videos (cats are so dumb!!!). But now, there is a black hole of misery and injustice that is ruining the internet AS WE KNOW IT. Hateful speech and discrimination!!!! Dog-shaming.com. WHAT IS THIS!??!!? People finding fault in dogs?!?!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?! What is even WORSE is that people are asking Mother-Person to put ME on there. ME. Beans Aloysius Wienerdog. INJUSTICE.
I won't have it. So I am fighting back the only way I know how: to act first.
Take that internet. Take that people. You can't shame me!! I SHAME YOU FIRST. Neener neener. (And yes, that is my nose moisture on the paper. It's hard getting things out of a printer when you don't have thumbs.)
Sincerely,
Beans A. Wienerdog
Friday, May 4, 2012
May 4th, 2012
Dear Diary,
There is no sun now.
What great misery I feel.
Cold sorrow soaks in.
See that, Diary? I'm forced to speak in haikus now. THAT'S HOW BAD IT IS. The hallway monsters were bowling last night and making me VERY nervous. Mother person explained it as thunder. I looked at her perplexed. I thought thunder was a derogatory way to explain thighs. I don't even know what goes through her head anymore.
She bought another vacuum cleaner. Why. Why must she do this!??! Why doesn't she just get rid of the thing that makes the mess that requires said vacuum cleaning?! Don't you say it, Diary. I do not shed. Stop judging me.
Misery is sad.
I have no justice anymore.
Vacuum you suck bad.
Oh, that one even rhymed. Nice touch if I do say so myself. And a pun? Wow, I think I've really hit my stride on these.
I am so pretty.
Long ears and snout are so grand.
Please give me bacon.
Must rest. All this creativity wears me out.
Sincerely,
Beans A. Wienerdog
There is no sun now.
What great misery I feel.
Cold sorrow soaks in.
She bought another vacuum cleaner. Why. Why must she do this!??! Why doesn't she just get rid of the thing that makes the mess that requires said vacuum cleaning?! Don't you say it, Diary. I do not shed. Stop judging me.
Misery is sad.
I have no justice anymore.
Vacuum you suck bad.
Oh, that one even rhymed. Nice touch if I do say so myself. And a pun? Wow, I think I've really hit my stride on these.
I am so pretty.
Long ears and snout are so grand.
Please give me bacon.
Must rest. All this creativity wears me out.
Sincerely,
Beans A. Wienerdog
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
April 11th, 2012
Dear Diary,
Now I've done it. Boy howdy. Why am I so bad? Why is what I do considered to be "bad"? Why isn't it applauded as free thinking? Why is opening a closet door, ripping open a plastic bag, and then eating 5 oz of 72% pure dark chocolate considered a "bad" thing. On the contrary I think is shows: initiative, cunning, understanding of physics, and an advanced palate. Believe me, other canines can't figure out these things. I was with Squeak the Chihuahua. (I forget her real name, but it doesn't matter. She's a divot with hair who squeaks ALL THE BLOODY FLIPPIN' TIME. She will not pull it together and for that, I have no patience.) Squeak was all, "Hey! Whatcha doing?! What's going on? IS THAT A SHADOW?! I AM AFRAID OF SHADOWS! IS THAT A REFLECTION?!? HEAD FOR THE HILLS!!" I'm all, "Chillax. If you put your knobby head right there and push, we can get this door open and help ourselves to the chocolate buffet." She was on board, as she listens to everything I say. Bless her. So, knobby head went in, the door moved! Huzzah! Then she fell right into my plan, "Is that a plastic bag? Oh I do so love to play with the plastic bag! May I play with the plastic bag with the swishy swishy swishy noise and the pulling and the ripping? Oh please may I?" Well, who was I to dash her dreams!! Rip away, fuzzball! And so she did, and then the chocolate presented itself and we dug in. I admit, she moved on to the chocolate faster that I thought she would. I thought I'd have a good head start, what with her bag obsession and all... But we both chowed down pretty good. I was quite pleased!!! Then, the people came home. The crying. The waving of hands. The panic and hysteria! The flapping to get us to the... VET. Why? To find out how I'm so incredibly brilliant so it can be documented for medical history? To get Squeak's vocal chords snipped? Oh diary, you'll never guess what they did... They... They... Sorry. I am a bevy of emotion!! Where is my embroidered hanky?!?!... they made me throw up... INTO A BUCKET. Like a common frat boy on a Friday night!! MISERY. They didn't even hold my ears back. Injustice.
Apparently, they're all "concerned" about "heart failure" when "dogs" "eat" "too much" of the "dark chocolate." What do I have to say about that? Poppycock!!!! That's right. When's the last time you heard that phrase? Well, I'm bringing it back as I feel it's appropriate. You make me throw up glorious deliciousness and then make me sleep overnight with IV fluids, I will yell poppycock at you.
This is me the next day. Like Tiny Tim! Why would a genius like me be reduced to a pathetic Tiny Tim! INJUSTICE.
Terrible. Just terrible. Yellow isn't my color. I'm hopping. Dachshunds are good with the hopping. We just look silly, and THAT is VERY UPSETTING. My image team is very disappointed with this. So please, diary, don't share this with anyone.
Misery.
For the record, I got no treats to make up for all the food I was forced to upturn. Injustice.
Sincerely,
Beans A. Wienerdog
Now I've done it. Boy howdy. Why am I so bad? Why is what I do considered to be "bad"? Why isn't it applauded as free thinking? Why is opening a closet door, ripping open a plastic bag, and then eating 5 oz of 72% pure dark chocolate considered a "bad" thing. On the contrary I think is shows: initiative, cunning, understanding of physics, and an advanced palate. Believe me, other canines can't figure out these things. I was with Squeak the Chihuahua. (I forget her real name, but it doesn't matter. She's a divot with hair who squeaks ALL THE BLOODY FLIPPIN' TIME. She will not pull it together and for that, I have no patience.) Squeak was all, "Hey! Whatcha doing?! What's going on? IS THAT A SHADOW?! I AM AFRAID OF SHADOWS! IS THAT A REFLECTION?!? HEAD FOR THE HILLS!!" I'm all, "Chillax. If you put your knobby head right there and push, we can get this door open and help ourselves to the chocolate buffet." She was on board, as she listens to everything I say. Bless her. So, knobby head went in, the door moved! Huzzah! Then she fell right into my plan, "Is that a plastic bag? Oh I do so love to play with the plastic bag! May I play with the plastic bag with the swishy swishy swishy noise and the pulling and the ripping? Oh please may I?" Well, who was I to dash her dreams!! Rip away, fuzzball! And so she did, and then the chocolate presented itself and we dug in. I admit, she moved on to the chocolate faster that I thought she would. I thought I'd have a good head start, what with her bag obsession and all... But we both chowed down pretty good. I was quite pleased!!! Then, the people came home. The crying. The waving of hands. The panic and hysteria! The flapping to get us to the... VET. Why? To find out how I'm so incredibly brilliant so it can be documented for medical history? To get Squeak's vocal chords snipped? Oh diary, you'll never guess what they did... They... They... Sorry. I am a bevy of emotion!! Where is my embroidered hanky?!?!... they made me throw up... INTO A BUCKET. Like a common frat boy on a Friday night!! MISERY. They didn't even hold my ears back. Injustice.
Apparently, they're all "concerned" about "heart failure" when "dogs" "eat" "too much" of the "dark chocolate." What do I have to say about that? Poppycock!!!! That's right. When's the last time you heard that phrase? Well, I'm bringing it back as I feel it's appropriate. You make me throw up glorious deliciousness and then make me sleep overnight with IV fluids, I will yell poppycock at you.
This is me the next day. Like Tiny Tim! Why would a genius like me be reduced to a pathetic Tiny Tim! INJUSTICE.
Terrible. Just terrible. Yellow isn't my color. I'm hopping. Dachshunds are good with the hopping. We just look silly, and THAT is VERY UPSETTING. My image team is very disappointed with this. So please, diary, don't share this with anyone.
Misery.
For the record, I got no treats to make up for all the food I was forced to upturn. Injustice.
Sincerely,
Beans A. Wienerdog
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