The Pinch Method

The pinch method is a form of discipline that my beloved Mommy has devised. It is employeed when little bastards, as she calls them, proceed to act up or whisper or do anything that makes her have to pour a glass of wine to calm down. Today, my Mommy called me and explained how she dealt with 2 kids in the condo and how her Mommy gave the 2 little bastards dominoes to play with on a tile floor. It took me awhile to understand my Mommy's call because she was slightly inerberated. She said that she needed two glasses of wine to deal with the noise of it all and chaos. I told her to tell her Mommy that the dominoes are going off the balcony and that will end that.

Torture in Chicopee

Well, I'm here in Chicopee serving another sentence. Thanks to all my friends, grandparents, aunts and uncles, who did not take me in for the 3 months that my Mommy is gone. In addition to the Westerns with the blazing gun fire, the crazy sister and the guards, my Daddy has instituted a new form of torture - water boarding. That's right nearly on a daily basis my Daddy takes me into the bathroom usually in the morning for my torture session. He calls it a bath, I call it TORTURE!

The Strip

I keep hearing about "the Strip" and I've decided that I am going to take a trip there. I hear about the great night life, the fabulous light shows for free, the buffets, the beautiful weather, friendly people and how you can walk to everything. Anderson Cooper keeps talking about the Strip and it seems to be the new hot spot to visit. Also, I hear the resorts are spectacular, but it can be a bit of a mob scene if you will with the herds of people. That's right I am booking my trip to Gaza.

Off I Go

Apparently, I am going to Daddy's for three months starting tomorrow. I will miss my Mommy and she will miss me at least that is what she keeps saying to me. I don't know how much I believe it where she is going to warm weather. My Daddy and I are slowly starting to getting along again. To put it in perspective I no longer wish to bite his face off and then kill him. I am content with just biting his finger off and allowing him to ly in his own filth as he sees fit.

2009

Well, friends, 2009 is upon us and I would like to take this time to reflect on the year that is coming to a close. Let's see where should I begin. First, I have to comment on our first hommey for a President. I am very impressed by this country's willingness to place this country's faith in the hands of inexperience. Although I am glad that McCain and Palin didn't get in either, but what can you do not like we can pick our candidates that would smell of a democracy. Moving on to the fabulous bank crisis/crisises and the blindness to which the government handed out money. It comforts me to know that in 2009 we will have Obama, with his impressive record, and the Senators and Congressman, whom have yet to provide us with sound leadership, leading us into this time of economic uncertainity. I wonder what the new catch phrase will be for '09. Since everyone latched onto "Main Street and Wall Street". Perhaps, they will go with "Buy American" in order to help the failing American auto industry. What a surprise that crisis didn't get resolved before '09, hmmmm seems reminsicent of Roosevelt and Hoover. Unfortunately, it is not my responsibility to provide you with a history lesson.

Well, I guess only time will tell what 2009 brings each of us, but I have a feeling it's going to be a year to remember.

Obama and Time

If I see one more Time Magazine cover with a picture of Obama on it, I'm going to call in the "troops" for the inaugration and it won't be pretty. You will be paying little attention to the Bible Obama is using when the Hawks swoop in and tear it and him to shreds. At least Newsweek has the decency to not promote a black man every week on their cover. My God, what is wrong with Time. Another media outlet whose judgment I question is 60 Minutes. If I see one more Obama interview or last week where the whole hour was devoted to him, I am going to give Andy Rooney something to complain about as he walks to the subway for his precious baseball game in the spring. I can't take this pro Obama media. It's like all the reporters drank the Oprah kool aid. They should be careful - they could end up just as fat as her!

The Fuzzy Robe

Well, we were snowed in this weekend. I use the term we to include, my Mommy, me and unfortunately, my Daddy. I was content enough to watch "Lost" from my house and everything would have been fine if Daddy didn't put on his big fuzzy, blue robe and proceed to lounge around in it all day. It disgusts me to my core. My Mommy allows it and that makes me sick to my stomach. He already acts like a king without the robe. On the weekends I can't make any noise because my Daddy might get upset. I can't sleep with my Mommy or play with her because my Daddy might feel threatened. I live with all of these conditions when he is around, but the robe is insulting and just throws it all in my face.