Hello Bitches!

Hello Bitches!

It’s moi! Lizzie, the Pembroke Welsh Corgi! I’m taking over this cockamamie blog this morning. Because, frankly, Daddy (known to you as Michael) is becoming a bit of a bore…always whining about not knowing what to write….and when he does write something it’s always rather introspective….and semi-heavy. Who does he think he is? Dr. Phil?

So how am I writing this….I got no thumbs, remember? Oh, so simple……I waited until Daddy was sleeping and I put him in a big black leather harness and collar that he had in his magic closet…..they must have owned a Rottweiler before me…..and I just clipped on my purple My Pretty Pony dog leash to the collar. After a few tugs, he became pretty compliant. So he’s typing out what I dictate to him….I mean, it’s got to be him typing….who else would have so many typos and grammatical errors? If he gets growly with me, I just give him a couple of sharp tugs and he quiets down and keeps typing.

(It’s me, Michael…..please help me!!!....Oops!)

(Tug, tug!)

My Daddy…he’s been a hot mess recently. He stayed up late Saturday evening to read some news online, and then he lurched to the bedroom, and collapsed for a new hours. That morning instead of making a pot of coffee, he took the coffee creamer directly to the back patio table. I heard whimpers and sighs of “my men….my men…my beautiful angry men” then he’d do straight shots of Coffee mate Funfetti Vanilla Cake Non-Dairy Creamer. He is such a drama queen, no pun intended. I mean under that suave sophisticated façade he’s a Southerner….and you know how they can be…pure Blanche DuBois.

Later that morning, he felt a lot better after having one of his funny smelling brownies. And then he went to the computer and ordered an overnight copy of “The Dummies Guide to Making Voodoo Dolls.” Now, I don’t know if the events are related, but if you have gotten on Daddy’s bad side….well, I’d just watch what you do with your hair and fingernail clippings. Believe me, when he has his mind set on something….well, he’ll get a sample of your DNA by any means possible. And I mean by ANY means! Do you get my meaning!? Good!

Of course, true to form, he wrote that bullshit blog entry (The Incredible Lightness of Doing Nothing) about preferring to stay at home rather than going out…oh my, so Greta Garbo! I said he was a drama queen. I knew that wouldn’t last long because this morning we drove to El Paseo for a morning walk with Auntie Timm McBride. Now, can I just say this about El Paseo? It’s crappy! Literally! I mean I have never seen so much dog poop on the sidewalk before! Those rich bitches pooping everywhere…..I mean the dogs, silly! At least, I hope it’s just the dogs.

Just now Daddy and I had to go to the front door to accept some packages from the mailman. At first I thought the mailbox would be shocked by my Daddy’s canine S&M couture, but he didn’t even blink an eye. I guess what happens in the Coachella Valley stays in the Coachella Valley. Back to work!!

Anyway…El Paseo…..all I can say is “Bitches, pick up after your bitches!” Otherwise, you’re just a basic bitch! Grrrr!

Well, after our walk…..I walked for over an hour (Daddy and I are on diets remember?) and fortunately, some lady recognized me as a corgi and fussed over me for a long time. I have an insatiable need for ear scratches and tummy rubs. I was happy but tired; I’m an old gal, ya know?

But when we got home Daddy started getting testy! He’s so volatile. He was opening and closing the kitchen cabinet doors shouting, “Where are the carbs?! I need carbs! I deserve to have carbs, after WHAT I’VE BEEN THROUGH THIS WEEKEND!” Now, I don’t know what “carbs” are, because Daddy never eats them. But I guess he needed them, because Daddy and Mommy (known to you as Tim Cagney) just returned from the store, Daddy was skipping all over the house, singing “Carbs! Carbs! Carbs!” I think he had one of his special brownies earlier.

I later found out carbs stands for carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. I guess Daddy is on the cake frosting diet. Like that scene from DEATH BECOMES HER when Golden Hawn eats nothing but cake frosting and has all those cats. Damn cats. They could have used corgis in that movie. I think it would have made it a much better movie. Cats? How cliché!

Well, it’s time for our morning nap. Daddy and I like to nap together. He may be a melodramatic old queen, but I’ve gotten used to him by now.

So, until tomorrow, when Daddy may (or may not) take over this blog again….it depends how I feel….and how many kibbles I see in my dinner bowl tonight. Fucking diet.

Until then…..as Daddy always says “Make Your Own Magic”

Lizzie

(Poorly typed and proofread by Michael, who shall be severely disciplined if there are any errors.)