OLDY but goody

hey all.....heres a blast from da past


The Story of a Dog named Spatz, a dog who hates sober people…….From the Doggie’s point of view…



I was born in Upham’s corner, Dorchester. My mother was a real bitch of a rotty, and I was raised to have nothing but disdain for loud Irish jerks.
My father was a German Sheapherd with a real adversity to commitment. He was nailing dogs from Worcester to Back Bay. I only met him twice…..Both times commenced a huge conflict. The conflict was within our household, and I am not comfortable sharing that part of the story right now….
Anyway, My owner has been very busy cleaning carpets for $4 an hour. Meanwhile, his dickhead Nephew has been “taking care of the place.” This means that the place is now completely overrun by mice, and cops. So I have had quite a month, and I am just biding the hours until my mother returns from a 5 week stint in Honduras.
So the gist of this story is the fact that Herchel, I call him Herchballs……Hired a kid named Patrick. Patrick seemed like a great guy, until Herchel decided to offer him a Corona. Pat refused this drink, since it contails the devil’s toxin, alcohol. I was trained to lash out at any person who fails to take a drink from my man, or anyone in the house, actually.
So I bit the kid, I bit him hard, expecting applause from Hershballs. But none came, instead I was alone in the house, wondering where I went wrong. It used to be that I would get a big steak dinner for a move like that, but not so much with Hershel.

Im not sure what to think of that kid, and today I overheard Hershballs saying over the phone that Patrick could hmm hmmm cough cough, “Kick me in the balls”

I’m not happy with this discourse, and I will show my disdain through controlling Patrick’s dreams with images of savage wolfs with rabies. (And socially inadequate skunks, esp ones named Barbara, Endicott, or Vicky………and Katherine