Not Happy

Ok, so when I got home last night, Ace had a few things to say about the blog yesterday, and after listening to him rant on for 30 minutes, I just said, “hey, you got a problem with what I said, write it down and I’ll put it on the blog.”

Ace’s response: Hey listen, I’m not a happy dog. First of all you set me up as some kind of Passive Submissive “weenie” dog that pees when someone’s foot brushes up against them, then you lump me in with the Cheewawa’s that think they rule the roost around here. Well first of all, this ain’t gonna score any numbers with the neighbor ladies, and the girls that I live with here have even taken to callin’ me “Pee-poo” or some such crap. Like I don’t get enough on a daily basis from a bunch of screamin’ yappin’ Cheewawa’s that think their you know what don’t stink…. And furthermore, you try getting your ass kicked 3-4 times a day from the time you’re a young pup til your 3 years old, and see if it doesn’t make you flinch or occasionally wet yer pants a bit. I guarantee you, if I bite your ankle a couple of times a day for the next week or two, the next time I lick your leg you’ll probably wee a bit too! Plus, I have gotten better as time goes on and I tend to forget about the jerk that used to abuse me. Although you’re starting to get on my list just a bit with all this bs about me being a help desk agent bit and all. If I wanted to be a help desk software agent or customer service rep, I’d be one. I want to know what the heck is wrong with sitting around here all day, playing with toys, chewing on leather shoes, and occasionally taking a leak on the leg of the couch? Not a bad life from where I sit! Now if I wanted to be a help desk agent I’d probably take a few courses in Spanish from the Senorita’s that I live with, and if I was really motivated I’d talk more to the cat so I would then be bilingual and know more about technology. Hey, there’s a great idea. A bilingual help desk agent that can speak Spanish and cat at the same time. Next thing you’d probably want me to learn French so I could talk to the neighbors Poodle, and that’s where I draw the line. In case you haven’t noticed, (your head is usually turned) when I go to do my business in the front yard, I do business with the neighbor’s Poodle and she knows what language I speak if you get my drift….

Ok, that’s about it for now, or at least I am guessing I have enough keywords in here to suit your prissy butt so I can expect a bit of extra yogurt tonight, don’t cha think?