Jail (For a) Break

Do people ever break in to jail?

No?

Well, I suppose there’s a first time for everything.

Most days, I drive by the local police station.

Some days, I’m tempted to turn myself in.

For a crime I haven’t even committed.

After being imprisoned in a vehicle with two brawling beasts for a matter of mere minutes…

Let’s just say a much-needed break is in order.

A vacation, if you will.

With free room and board.

And courtyards.

And even a complimentary library.

What’s not to like?

Sure, prison food might leave a bit to be desired.

But at least I wouldn’t have to do the cooking.

I’d say that probably qualifies as an acceptable trade-off.

And yes, amenities may be lacking.

But just think:

A break from never-ending heaps of laundry!

And from vacuuming and mopping!

And from stepping on Legos dangerously scattered across every inch of floor!

Oh, and what’s this I hear about free healthcare?

Just give me a couple of books, and a notebook and a pen, and I’ll be good to go.

But first, I need a plausible excuse.

You know…

People do get arrested for not wearing a seat belt.

And sometimes for using profanity in public places.

I even had a teacher in high school who managed to get thrown in jail for jaywalking.

Or what about twerking in public?

Surely, that could land a bit of time away from it all?

Some states have really bizarre laws that could earn some time in the slammer.

Did you know it’s illegal to drive blindfolded in Alabama?

(I don’t know why anyone would, but okay…)

And in Iowa, you simply can’t throw a brick onto a highway.

(Good luck pulling that one off.)

And in Missouri, bear wrestling is banned.

(Now we’re talking!)

And North Carolina heavily frowns upon Drunk Bingo.

(Woo hoo! Sounds like a good time!)

Oh, but there are no beaches in jail.

So maybe that’s not quite the right place for me.

Yeah.

Come to think of it, what I truly need is a relaxing trip to the beach…

~Happy Friday, friends! Hope you enjoy a bit of a break this weekend!~

Ah! Just what the doctor ordered...

Ah! Just what the doctor ordered…

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Fundamentally Fashion Impaired

Dresses made out of trash bags.

Jumpsuits that resemble prison attire.

Crotchless jeans.

Um, hello?!?

Why do I always feel like I’m missing something?

Why would anyone want to parade around in attire that gives the disturbing impression of having just kicked Big Bird’s ass and then using his fashionable feathers to flaunt their victory?

I simply don’t get the world of fashion.

It’s so…

Weird.

And not the good kind of weird, either.

Haven’t these designers ever heard of yoga pants?

Or lounge pants?

Or better yet, pjs?

If not, they’re totally missing out.

Comfort should never be underestimated.

Who is all this eccentric stuff designed for, anyway?

Surely not most human beings?

Erma Bombeck said it best:

“Sometimes I can’t figure designers out. It’s as if they flunked human anatomy.”

This stuff possibly can’t be meant for real life.

I don’t know.

Maybe I don’t get out enough.

Or maybe I’m not normal.

And I’m perfectly okay with that.

But come on.

Who wears this stuff?

It’s like fashion from another planet.

Ooh, maybe that’s what this is!

Intergalactic fashion!

Garbage can lids for hats.

Rompers made from mops.

Boots that are furrier than a wooly mammoth.

Talk about statement pieces.

And celebrities only perpetuate the madness.

How about Lady Gaga’s infamous meat dress?

Or Bjork’s weird swan dress?

Or Katy Perry’s memorable carousel dress?

Somebody intentionally created these monstrosities.

Some of those outfits would result in common folk getting thrown in the slammer for indecent exposure.

Especially with a scarcely concealing dress made out of meat, for heaven’s sake.

But celebrities?

They can get away with strutting down through town wearing nothing more than a sheer scarf as a top and car mats for a skirt.

That’s fashion.

Using one’s body as a kooky canvas like that…

Well, Picasso would simply be horrified.

But the madness doesn’t stop there.

When I go shopping for clothes, it gets overwhelming sometimes.

Is that garment supposed to be a tube top or a dress?

Or is it intended to be worn as a cape?

And that freakish in-between-fingers ring…

Is it meant to be a weapon?

All I know is somebody’s gonna get hurt.

And it’s usually me.

Especially when sadistic curiosity gets the better of me and I take a questionable garment into the dressing room.

Which appendage is supposed to go through which strap?

Surely this can’t possibly be a dress if it doesn’t even begin to cover my butt…?

Why does this shirt seem to have three arm holes?

I truly don’t want to end up in ER after accidentally knocking myself out by trying to cram my unsuspecting head into a narrow little arm hole.

But I’ve lost track of the amount of times I’ve managed to clobber my own face while trying on some sort of whimsical attire.

Simplicity is the key for me.

I can live without Star Trek inspired looks.

Or leopard print from head to toe.

Or aluminum foil onesies.

These concepts are certainly costume party worthy, if nothing else.

And not only are these crazy pieces…well, crazy, they’re insanely expensive.

If you spend $2,000 on a hideous fringe-covered, barf-green purse- I mean handbag– will you actually have anything left to put in it?

It might be nice to have money left over to do other things.

Like eat.

And maybe even pay the mortgage.

Not to be a slave to the money-draining, ever-changing world of fashion.

I can’t do high maintenance.

It’s too exhausting.

And that level of quirkiness is far too much.

Even for me.

Some people spend ten dollars on clothing and look like a million bucks.

Some people spend a million bucks and look like disheveled cow-wrangling floozies.

It’s all in how you wear it.

So be true to yourself and wear whatever makes you feel like a million bucks.

Especially if you’ve actually spent a million bucks.

~Happy Friday, friends! Clearly, fashion is relative. Just ask that poor doggie in the picture. Have a great weekend!~

It seems anything goes in the world of fashion...

It seems anything goes in the world of fashion…

Rhymes with Croak

Just do you.

I could totally get behind that mantra.

Truly, I’d love to.

If the context were to be completely different.

Ah.

Diet Coke.

With their newest commercial, they’ve accomplished the impossible.

Defiantly boasting of the coolness of doing whatever the hell you want, with an alarming tone reeking of utter desperation…

Let’s just say they’ve stooped to a new low.

You want to run a marathon?

Why would you want to do that?

It sounds super hard.

Just have a Diet Coke!

Yeah, we know it’s bad for your health.

But who cares?

Might as well die happy while all your organs start mutating and eating you alive from the inside out!

Way to go, Coca-Cola.

You’re empowering people to be the utmost mediocre versions of themselves.

I’m impressed.

You’re all but admitting your product is total crap, while encouraging people to aim low.

What a spectacular way to rebrand.

It’s the quintessential opposite of Nike’s Just Do It slogan.

But I get it.

Sales are plummeting as people become more health conscious, and you guys need to convince your target audience that your product is still relevant and cool.

So now you’re trying hard to appeal to millennials.

Just do you.

You only live once.

So why not develop a fine new addiction?

Coca-Cola or cocaine?

Either kind of coke will probably do.

After all, why the hell not?

YOLO, right?

Ooooh!

Look at all the pretty new colorful cans!

They’re so…tall!

And so slender!

And still every bit as bad for you!

But who cares!

YOLO!

Yeah, I know.

Serves me right for watching five minutes of Hulu after last week’s trashing.

But still.

Because I can!

Clever catchphrase, paired up with idiotic rationale.

Diet Coke makes you feel good!

Just like drugs!

Oh, you love meth?

It makes you feel great?

That’s awesome!

You keep right on doing you!

Everyone and everything else be damned.

Did you know Coke is great for shining pennies and removing rust from toilets?

And also for removing skunk odors…?

Which begs the question:

How could it not be good for your insides?

Sure, it can cause breakouts.

And mood swings.

And metabolic disorders.

But what’s not to love?

Why run a super hard marathon when you can just drink a Diet Croak?

Uh, I mean, Coke.

At least completing a marathon is something one can look back on with some degree of pride.

So what are you proud of?

Oh, I just had a Diet Coke.

Because I can.

I’m a badass, defiant rebel like that.

Uh huh.

That’s right.

Because. I. Can.

I don’t know about you, but I think I’d rather live in a yurt.

I hate to say it, but desperation is not an attractive look for you, Diet Coke.

~Happy Friday, friends! For the record, if you’re a fan of Diet Coke, I’m not judging you in the least. I merely found this style of “marketing” to be too humorous to not poke fun at. Have a fantastic weekend!~

When the first part of your name starts with "die", incognito may be the way to go...

When the first part of your name starts with “die”, incognito may be the way to go…

TV or Not to Be

Hulu down!

Hulu down!

OMG!!!

What to do?

What to do?!?

Well, here’s a crazy suggestion:

Take a deep breath in.

Then exhale slowly.

Now peel your butt off the couch…

And go find something else to do.

Read a book, perhaps.

Reading is rapidly becoming a lost art.

Now is a great time to rediscover it.

Speaking of lost arts…

How about communication?

Talk?

Like, to other people?

What do you mean, not virtually?

Ewww.

How does that even work?

Are you telling me I have to talk to my family now?

Please don’t make me talk to my family!

Anything but that!

Augh!!!

Such was the general sentiment when I perused Twitter comments on Hulu Support after experiencing a brief outage.

I’m cancelling my service!

You’ve ruined my night!

What am I supposed to do now?

That’s it. I’m switching to Netflix!

You’ve ruined my life!!!

I’m not sure whether to be amused or disturbed.

I guess we’ll go with amusingly disturbed.

Or disturbingly amused.

I do tend to be easily amused, after all.

The nerve!

The outrage!

Geez, Hulu!

Get your shit together!

You’ve single-handedly managed to ruin millions of lives with your carelessness!

What’s that?

Hulu and Netflix are both down?

Alright, then.

Let’s try a different strategy.

Put on some shoes and open your front door.

Now step outside and close the door behind you.

Keep putting one foot in front of the other until you are doing this thing that is typically referred to as walking.

Now look up.

There’s the sky!

Isn’t it stunning?

Look down!

See those beautiful flowers?

Is it nighttime?

Look up again.

See that magnificent perfect crescent moon?

And what about that spectacular shooting star?

These phenomena are part of what we call nature.

And reality.

No, definitely not the same thing as reality TV.

Geez!

It’s okay to take a break from the tube every now and then.

You could be sparing yourself a fatal blood clot, just by standing up and walking out of the room.

Instead of gearing up for a 12 hour marathon of The Bachelor reruns.

So consider it a blessing.

While you’re at it, why not use that dramatic outrage and put it toward a more worthwhile cause for genuine problems in this world…

Rather than bemoaning the injustice of having no access to television for 25 minutes, when far too many people in this world have no access to clean water or food.

Talk about First World Problems.

I don’t know.

Maybe I’m a freak, but I’d personally take a book over TV any day.

Don’t get me wrong.

I love a good comedy sitcom.

But would I be losing any sleep if my TV were to accidentally go flying out the window one of these days while my boys are busy brawling?

Probably not.

Unless it happened to fall on a poor pedestrian who decided to take a break from watching TV by getting out for a walk.

TV or not TV…

It’s not really a question.

~Happy Friday, everyone! Have a great weekend!~

Ooh! Look at all the pretty colors! Surely that's more entertaining than anything else on TV!

Ooh! Look at all the pretty colors! Surely that’s more entertaining than anything else on TV!

Cookie Crazed Frenzy

Girl Scout cookies.

It’s what’s for dinner.

And breakfast.

Oh, and lunch, too.

Apparently.

Such is the unfortunate challenge when you find yourself with eight boxes of Girl Scout cookies.

Yeah.

You read that right.

Eight boxes.

Of cookies.

Yikes.

Last Saturday while I was at work, a well-meaning family member decided to support our local Girl Scout troop and buy some cookies.

And by some, I mean two boxes each of Thin Mints and Trefoils.

Along with Samoas, Tagalongs, Savannah Smiles, and Rah-Rah Raisins.

We aren’t typically prone to such extravagant overindulgence of that nature.

Unless it’s Halloween, when there’s no escaping the sweet temptation.

At any rate, just shy of one week later, we are down to…

Exactly one box of gluten-free Toffee-tastic cookies that we’d somehow received in place of the Rah-Rah Raisins.

Let’s just say, those toffee cookies aren’t worthy of any rah-rah-ing.

Not all cookies are equal.

Sorry, but no.

A cookie is a cookie is…

Sooo not a cookie.

Sad but true.

Thin Mints top the hierarchy, hands down.

But we already devoured our two boxes of Thin Mints.

Ooh!

Maybe we could go door to door, asking to buy leftover cookies from random neighbors?

Nah.

That might be weird.

Or perhaps someone out there might want to trade a box of Thin Mints for some yummy gluten-free Toffee-(so not)tastic?

No?

Oh, Thin Mints.

I miss you already.

Until we meet again…

~Happy Friday, friends! Did anyone else indulge in a box (or ten) of Girl Scout cookies this year? If so, which one is your favorite? Have a great weekend!~ 

Sharing is usually caring... except when there's nothing left to share. Oops!

Sharing is usually caring… except when there’s nothing left to share. Oops!

Lessons from the Fish Tank

Responsibility?

Pfft!

Who needs that?

Well, if responsibility is your goal…

Then pet fish are definitely not the way to go.

PetSmart’s Black Friday ad, boasting 50% off all small pets, really got me thinking.

It brought back memories of That One Christmas five years ago.

Santa had oh so generously brought my boys a very nice fish tank, filled with cool fish tank ornaments like treasure chests and Sponge Bob Square Pants and his pineapple under the sea…

And Sponge Bob’s bizarre pet meowing snail, Gary.

All that was missing were the fish.

So my husband and I gifted our boys each with a certificate for one Mickey Mouse Platy fish apiece.

Which turned out to be a huge mistake.

Or, rather, a life lesson.

A lesson in The Circle of Life.

The cycle of life.

And death.

And inbreeding.

That’s right.

The whole experience served as a constant lesson in the disturbing never-ending cycle of death in a fish tank plagued by frequent new life, even more frequent death…

And inbreeding of epidemic proportions.

Sure, the kids were excited at first.

We started off with three fish:

Chloe-Dante, Bailey, and…and…

Well, some other fish.

We soon added snails Gary and Larry.

And then a cool sucker fish, creatively named Sucker Pluto.

We would all sit there like scientists, measuring for proper ph levels to keep everything properly in balance for the safety of our beloved new pets.

But after a matter of months, nobody cared enough anymore to clean the algae-filled tank or even be certain if they’d been fed lately.

Before we knew it, there were far too many fish to remember names of or even keep track of.

On that note…

Never name fish after your family members.

The first fish to kick the bucket was a red Platy named after my brother and his dog.

A child showing up to school crying about dead fish named after a family member is bound to be a traumatizing experience.

Chloe-Dante just died!

Um, isn’t that your uncle? And his…dog?

Your uncle and his dog just died…and you’re at school?!?

What is wrong with your family?!?

Oh, you guys name your fish after your family members…???

Seriously, what is wrong with your family?

Yeah.

Not an ideal situation.

Always a new fish.

Always a new one kicking the bucket.

On the bright side, we really got the most bang for our buck with all that inbreeding, which led to our pet count multiplying exponentially.

So I guess in that sense, we got a pretty good deal out of it.

I mean, with the exception of The Missing GloFish.

How can a bright neon green fish go missing?

It’s not like they can jump out of a tank…

Or can they?

We’ll never know for certain.

Maybe he was just trying to escape that horrifying inferno.

I can’t say I would’ve blamed him.

Pet fish?

Ha!

Never again.

It’s safe to say I’ve learned my lesson.

~Happy Saturday, everyone! Have a fantastic weekend!~

Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming...

Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming…

Ho Ho… Uh, No

I love holidays.

Truly, I do.

But Christmas decorations and shopping frenzies taking center stage before Thanksgiving?

Or before even Halloween, for that matter?

What’s up with that?

Unless you’re a retailer…

In which case,  the thrill of Back to School/Halloween/Thanksgiving/Christmas/New Year all start in July.

Who needs one holiday at a time? 

Bring ’em on!

Bring ’em ALL on!!!

(Literally. Everywhere. There’s no escape.)

(Because why the hell not, right? It’s never too early, apparently.)

(T’is the season… for what, exactly? It’s getting to be far too confusing anymore.)

(As efficient as Back to School/Halloween/Christmas shopping all at once might seem, this isn’t what I picture when I think about “one stop shopping”.)

(November isn’t technically off-limits for Christmas cheer… but September and October are definitely pushing it.)

(You know what they say- if the bottle ain’t opening, it ain’t time yet. Try again later. Like after Thanksgiving, perhaps.)

(It’s hard to argue with the fact that Thanksgiving is indeed rooted in violence, but it isn’t typically the turkey doing the carving.)

(On the bright side, if you get it all out of the way now, you may be able to avoid getting out of the house again until well after the New Year!)

(What a great way to cover nearly half a year’s worth of holidays under one convenient catchphrase!)

(Well, at least since Halloween is done and Witchy Poo finally got her turn, Santa is now only trying to push his way in front of one other guy…)

(I think it’s safe to say that turkeys everywhere are sick of playing second fiddle to Santa.)

(And it would appear that the Pilgrims are none too pleased, either…)

(Nor is Grumpy Cat. But then, when is he ever in the mood to celebrate anything?)

(But we all have different opinions, and that’s okay. If Darth Vader is feeling the spirit of the season already, more power to him.)

The magic of the season is undeniable.

Even though I’m not entirely sure what season we’re celebrating at the moment…

All I know is that I’m not quite ready for Christmas music or Christmas shopping…

Or even putting up the Christmas tree.

The insanity of the season can wait.

Right now, I’m perfectly content with relishing the delightful crackle of vibrant autumn leaves beneath my feet on a crisp November morning.

Unless, of course, I’m somehow magically gifted with a one way ticket to a remote tropical island.

Then I’m all for it.

Ho ho ho!

~Happy Saturday, friends! Have a terrific weekend!~ 

A Dynamic Duo

Two of the most dreaded things in life:

Going to the doctor…

And waiting.

Pair those two things together and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.

Especially when you add a couple of kids to the mix.

Then things really start to get ugly.

Yeah.

It’s a disastrous combination.

Meow Mix tastes like crap!

When is that guy coming in here again?

This, evidently, is how my boys enjoy passing the painful expanse of time waiting for the doctor.

Eww! Who farted?

Are you sure it wasn’t you?

Poop smells terrible…ly good!

What is the matter with you?

I’m tired! And I’ve had too much caffeine!

The room goes silent for a brief moment before they move on to battling it out over the leather spinning stool.

Oooh! It’s so soft and smooth. It’s like hugging the inside of a cow!

(As a vegetarian, this thought is especially unpleasing to me.)

They direct their attention to whatever Nintendo DS game they’d brought along for the ride.

This level sucks! Freaking Mario! You suck so bad!

The door to the room opens, and my older child redirects his attention.

He accusingly points at the doctor and indignantly exclaims:

We’ve been waiting forever for you! What took so long?!?

Don’t talk to the doctor like that! I’ll slap you!

Here, I’ll take care of that.

And he slaps himself.

Can we go to 7-11 and get Slurpees after this?

I don’t think so. Stupidity equals no Slurpees. 

I’m gonna stick a cactus in your eye!

If your murder me, you’ll go to jail!

I’m gonna throw you off a three-story building! No, off a ten-story building! No, off the Empire State Building!  

(Note: this is not at all what I envision when I encourage them to aim high.)

Keep that up and you’re going to be on America’s Most Wanted.

What’s America’s Most Wanted?

At this point, the doctor good-naturedly interjects:

You don’t want to be on wanted posters in post offices all over the country, do you?

Ooh, yeah! I want to be on America’s Most Wanted!

Can you hurry up and give him his shots now?

I’ll throw you out the window!

No, you won’t.

Last time you had to get shots, you screamed like a girl!

Why you gotta be so rude?

Augh! Don’t you dare! Don’t you do it!

Hold still or they’re gonna send a football player in to tackle you for your shot!

Wanna go? Come on. I’ll take you down!

The doctor’s gonna whack you with his reflex hammer if you don’t knock it off.

Oh, yeah?

Hey, good job! You did it! 

And just like that, it was all over.

Can we go out to dinner?

Ha! Like I’m going to take anyone anywhere after that mayhem.

But at least we made it out of there without any of us ending up on America’s Most Wanted.

~Happy Saturday, friends! Have a fantastic weekend!~

Why settle for brawling at home when you can share the joy by brawling in public?

Why settle for brawling at home when you can share the joy by brawling in public?

The Air up There

Fun fact:

The average couple in Delaware fights 24 times more frequently in a single month than the average UFC fighter battles it out in an entire year.

A whopping 73 times per month, to be exact.

Um, what?!?

How are there even enough hours in the day for that?

Do people have to schedule their brawls on the calendar?

Set daily fight reminders on their phones?

Dedicate extra time during the workday to hostile quarreling by text?

And what’s all the arguing even about in the first place?

Team Yankees or Team Red Sox?

Potato or potahto?

Blue-green or green-blue?

Seriously, what the hell?

Do people keep an ongoing list of possible topics to argue about?

I’m all for making to-do lists, but not of this particular variety.

Have these people not heard of choosing their battles?

Or do they all thrive on the thrill of perpetually high blood pressure?

Did they all marry complete assholes?

Or their polar opposites, at the very least?

Or possibly something from a different species altogether?

Like a boxing kangaroo?

I don’t know whether to congratulate the people of Delaware for setting such a high precedent or recommend that they all seek psychiatric help.

ASAP.

Because this can’t possibly be good for their health.

Where did they find these people to survey, anyway?

The county jail?

Preferably people who are guaranteed to be featured on upcoming episodes of Cops?

I’m personally a fan of peace, so this is all well beyond my level of comprehension.

73 arguments.

In one month.

With the same person.

This number doesn’t even factor in all the other human beings they’re all forced to interact with in the course of a day.

Does anyone in Delaware have inner peace?

Because I’m getting ulcers just thinking about it.

The national average for arguments between couples is only 19 times a month.

Still a fairly hefty number.

But it pales greatly in comparison to good ol’ Delaware.

What the hell is in the air in Delaware?

The EPA must really be letting things slide there.

Why is there no travel ban in place for Delaware?

Bickering, brawling, squabbling…

I’m starting to wonder if it has anything to do with the close proximity to Washington, D.C.?

Maybe these are all attorneys who are paid to argue for a living?

And then they leave work and continue to argue with their spouses/significant others?

Delaware.

The very first state.

The Diamond State.

The Greeks believed diamonds were tears of the gods.

Kinda makes sense.

I’m sure there are plenty of tears being shed with all this mayhem.

Nowadays, diamonds are viewed as a symbol of love.

And I’m sure there’s plenty of love in Delaware.

Or not.

Alaska, on the other hand, sets the standard with the least amount of arguing.

A relatively miniscule nine arguments per month.

It’s probably far too cold there for anyone to even bother getting out of bed in the first place.

Hey, wait a second!

Maybe that’s the solution to all of life’s problems…

~It’s time to mix things up a bit! Starting next week, Comically Quirky will be adding an exciting new mini-feature! Back by popular demand, Jett the Dog (a.k.a. @thebiglybestestdoggie) will star in Tuesday Tails ‘n’ Tweets, as he shares more hilariously quirky random thoughts about the challenges of…well…being a dog. So stay tuned, and have a great weekend!~

There's something in the air in Delaware, and it ain't good...

There’s something in the air in Delaware, and it ain’t good…

Very, Very Unfairy

So I ate that bag of bread.

And half a bag of treats, too.

But I was left by myself for days!

Days!!!

What?

It was only 10 minutes?

Seriously?

Huh.

Well, it felt like days.

What do you mean I’m not getting anything else for dinner now?

Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, many people say.

But is it okay to poop on it instead?

Just asking.

You know, for a friend.

No other dog in the history of the world has ever been treated so very, very unfairly.

Believe me.

Even my enemies agree.

And I have many, many of those.

Trust me.

Especially after I’ve sniffed their poop and tried to eat their food.

But I’m telling you, I think these owners of mine have problems.

What am I going to do about it?

Oh, you’ll see. 

Yeah.

You’ll find out soon enough.

Luckily for you, I don’t speak my thoughts.

Unluckily for you, there’s Twitter.

@thebiglybestestdoggie: Treated very unfairly by low energy humans again. Sad!

Ha!

That’ll show them.

Ooooh, a ball!

Look at that bright, shiny ball!

What was I saying?

Oh, yeah.

@thebiglybestestdoggie: You’re fired! Overrated humans! You’re all very bad hombres!

Oh, except I do need someone to feed me dinner.

Pretty please?

Oh, come on.

Don’t make me beg.

I’m sorry.

Okay?

@thebiglybestestdoggie: I’m the most tremendously people loving dog you’ll ever meet! I love people! All of them! Believe me!

I’m just a doggie horribly, horribly wronged.

Nobody knew it would be so hard!

To have self-control 24/7!

And to run this dump!

Nobody!

Who would’ve guessed?

Hashtag unfair!

So what are you gonna do?

Build a cage?

Create a ban to keep me out of the kitchen?

Find some other way to make your household “great” again?

What about those other monsters running around the house like savages? 

Huh?

Will you threaten to cage them, too?

What’s the word for those things again?

Oh, right.

Kids.

Ooh!

Look at that beautiful treat!

It’s the most beautiful treat ever!

And I’m gonna shove it down my gluttonous throat!

@thebiglybestestdoggie: A+ for going in and taking what I want better than anyone in the history of the world!

What can I say?

I’m a real go-getter.

You know, a lot of people are saying I should also be able to crotch-sniff anyone I damn well please.

Even Rocket Man.

What’s that?

You think I’m being overly dramatic?

Listen, you son of a female dog!

(Oh wait, I think I just described myself.)

I challenge you to a duel!

On second thought, my paws are probably too small.

IQ test, anyone?

Yeah, how about that?

Moron!

I know words!

I know lots of words!

I know yuuuge ones!

Like sit and stay

But not no.

Definitely not no. 

Roll over?

What am I, some kind of animal?

Losers!

I’m tired of being treated so unfairly!

And so I’ll respond the only way I know how.

With fire and fury!

Ha ha ha!

Just kidding!

I’m a sweet, loving doggie!

But I think those mushrooms I just ate in the backyard might’ve been hallucinogenic.

I love you!

Now give me a hug!

Aww!

You’re the best!

@thebiglybestestdoggie: Woof, woof, woof. Doggie out!

~Happy Saturday, friends! Furry friends sure do make life more entertaining, don’t they? Have a fun-filled, happy weekend!~

Yes, I did help myself to a loaf of bread and a bunch of treats. But I'm really a good dog. I swear!

Yes, I did help myself to a loaf of bread and a bunch of treats. But I’m really a good dog. I swear!