Sunday, June 27, 2010

I'm hijacking her bitz until my demands are met.

That's right, peeps (why in the world does she call you that? she is way too old to be using that word. god, she's lame). It's your favorite Siberian Princess. I'm taking control today in an effort to get my fatass mommy to bend to my will.

Look, lady. Or 'mommy' as you insist on being called.
I understand that you have to go to 'work' and all. Heck, I look forward to it. It gives me a little peace and quiet so I can run around and see what delicious treats are in the trash cans you won't let me get to.

That is so rude, by the way. I don't lock up your cupcakes, do I? I probably should, but let's move on. This isn't about you being fat and lazy. It's about something much more important.

This is about my favorite pink bone with the polka dots. You know the one. Don't act like you don't. It's the one that evil little puppy took out of my basket (MY basket) when you let her come over here.

Also rude, by the way. Fawning all over her while she destroys my stuff. You will pay for that. In fact, you already have. You just haven't found it yet.

Moving on...that devil dog had the nerve to put her disgusting little lips on my favorite pink bone with the polka dots. Then, as if that wasn't enough, she stuffs my favorite pink bone (with the polka dots) under the coffee table! The nerve!

You can see it. I know you can. It's right there behind me. I know you see it, 'mommy'.

You probably think I don't even care about it. You probably think I'm just lying here giving you the stink eye for no good reason.


Get up off your fatass and get me my favorite pink bone with the polka dots!
You know damn well I can't fit under there! If I could, I would've done it already!

Ooh. Can you get me a Frosty Paws too?

1 comment:

  1. Poor Princess. Did Mommy get you your damn bone yet?

    Don't worry, we all feel your pain.


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