Dear Bloggers,
Today, Mommy took us down to the National Mall to take our picture in front of the Capitol. We have no idea why that bitch had to have this picture, but she loaded us up in the car and off we went. We thought the “mall” was the place Mommy goes to for hours, then comes back with thousands of bags and proclaims, “Well fuckers, you can’t eat for a few weeks, Mommy really did it this time.” But the mall is this great place with all this grass and we just wanted to run and run. There were so many tourists and so little time and they loved us! Their kids were taking pictures of us, they were asking Mommy questions about D.C., and she loves it here, so she loves to talk about it. We even overheard her tell some lady from New York that D.C. is the only other place besides New York that she will call “home.”
Mommy kept trying to get the picture of us and we kept wandering off to investigate the new smells and see people who were talking to us. Mommy screamed at us to sit down for the better part of an hour. Do you have any idea what idiots we looked like? And may we add, she is turning into her mother. If we had a Milkbone for every time she said, “Just pose for this picture and try not to ruin Mommy’s day,” well, we’d have a lot of Milkbones.
It’s really no surprise that she doesn’t have, nor can she keep a man.
Love,
SuperDogs
haha i loved this: ” Well fuckers, you can’t eat for a few weeks, Mommy really did it this time”
you have some cute “fuckers”!
OMG. What a cute, cute picture! I LOVE your dogs! Not as much as my Jake of course, but they are soooooooo close!
…and they have you totally wrapped around their paws, so don’t deny it. Adorable pups.
SG – Thanks! Though I spent the equivalent of 11 bags of dog food at Victoria’s Secret again.
Crazy Girl – Get Jake’s arse down to the Mall for his picture!!
Cube – Ok, I give up. I love them.
Is there a way to add audio to the blog? This narrative really does not do the recount justice. As velet’s neighbor i have the luxury of hearing Sammy and Thora’s account first hand. There’s a lot more bitching and moaning than “mommy” reports.