Oh, Ernest. Monday, Sep 29 2008

I came home to the strangest sight this afternoon. As I walked up to the front door, I saw a flurry of color in the kitchen window and a lot of screeching going on inside. Thinking that a peregrine falcon had somehow gotten inside the house and was making off with Ernest, I rushed inside only to slam Grapes in the face, thereby giving her a bloody nose. I am so sorry. I seem to be doing this a lot lately, slamming into people on the way home. Anyways, it seemed Grapes had been pulling Ernest out of the microwave, where he was “having fun”. It’s a good thing he can’t reach any buttons once he’s inside.

Grapes took him to see some Youtube videos, and I don’t think we’ll have that problem anymore.

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This is Halloween Friday, Sep 26 2008

I returned home today from the Canine Ice Hotel in Greenland, remembering to bring Ernest some candy. It was a moose fat lollipop, a delicacy according to Marjorie. He seemed to enjoy it, although he did mention it tasted like cat hair. I wonder how he knew what cat hair tastes like.

Ernest announced to me his intentions for Halloween. Grapes will be working hard, if she has time. They plan on trick or treating in Shadow Park this year, a big improvement, apparently. I offered to take them to New Zealand, but even Grapes turned that down. Amazing, considering that’s the one place she’ s always wanted to go. It is her almost homeland, and she has an obligation to, since the three sheep are missing because she wasn’t born there.

Well, I’m booked for Halloween. In the morning I have to do a reunion photoshoot for the old underwear modeling company, then at night I’m…well, I’m busy in Austria. Confidential matters to attend to, unfortunately.

I’m a little bit tired, so I’ll be off to make sure I don’t look haggard tomorrow. Goodbye

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And Pretend That He Is Parson Brown Friday, Sep 26 2008

It is La Poo Poo, here at the Canine Ice Hotel in the Arctic. I was so glad to find out they had Internet access up here. Now that’s what I call connectibility. Of course, I had my own gadgets but I can’t just use them any time without proper clearance.

Allow me to explain the Canine (there’s that word again) Ice Hotel. It is entirely made of ice, employs three masseuses, twenty-five chefs, and seventeen lavatories. My good friend Marjorie owns the place. She also has a margarine and jam company so Grapes gets free samples every month in the mail. Here they allow you to take a bear fur bed, a rabbit fur bed, or a dog fur bed. I think dog fur beds are vile, but some just have that odd preference. All the beds are made with roadkill fur, so as not to waste. Environmentally friendly is disgustingly in right now. What I mean by disgustingly is that it’ so popular, yet global warming increasingly gets worse. I find it ironic that to save the Earth we buy more stuff. Of course, I can’ t be a hypocrite, I’m probably one of the the biggest spenders on Earth. There goes my argument…

I’ll be back home the day after tomorrow. Unfortunately I’ll miss the celebration of the one week anniversary of our blogs. But I think that run-in with Ernest affected me as well. My head has been hurting so much.

Even in Greenland I have to get beauty sleep, so goodnight.

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Silly Rabbit Wednesday, Sep 24 2008

We had a minor Ernest emergency. He got lost playing hide and seek/Zoboomafoo with himself. Then again, when is Ernest not an emergency. He wishes he could pee, but Grapes told him he can’t because then he would soggify himself. Her words, not mine.

Who wishes they could pee? It’s nothing but a nuisance to stop, go to the restroom, lift up a leg (or use the toilet, as I do) release pee, clean up (hopefully you do), and go back to whatever you were doing before. When I’m doing my job, do you think I have time to stop and pee while I’m kicking as-filing tax reports?

In the underwear modeling business, you have no time to pee either. Otherwise you might soil the underwear you’re modeling and that’s just sick. They might not photoshop it off and leak an unphotoshopped version out to the Internet. That would be..the end of your career. Life as you know it. Actually, every second is the end of life as you know it. Think about it, it makes sense. Anyways, back when I underwear modeled there was no photoshop. It was purely talent and skill to create a photo that didn’t need to be…shopped.

Grapes is writing fanfiction now, after years of shunning all the bad ones on fanfiction.net. I read it, of course, to give her encouragement. In honesty however, my tastes range from Pride and Prejudice to Crime and Punishment. I like books with “and” in between two nouns. Sushmita is quite endearing however. She reminds me a little of Grapes’s pal Sushi. i can’t quite place it…maybe it’s the love of aerobics. You’ll have heard of her if you read Grapes’s old blog. She’s the one in the Arabian Nights story.

It seems Guantorga may be coming a bit earlier. What I said before about wanting her to come, I take back. I opened a box today and inside were all the things Guantorga uses when she comes over. The smell pretty much whammed me in the nose. I remembered how we all couldn’t smell anything else for two weeks after she left. Poor Ernest, he’s too young to suffer that yet.

Grapes is reading about King Arthur in English. Good stories. I like them, they remind one of what is chivalrous and right.

Yesterday Grapes went back two steps in her resistance. She watched that funny interview of Johnny Depp in Toronto with Maria Menounos. Boy that was one dorky interview. Johnny Depp is so dorky. I used to tell Grapes that and she would giggle and say “I know.” Now she just says “Yeah.” But Maria Menounos says “double duty” and Johnny Depp laughed about it. Everytime I watch it I think someone is calling me to action. But uh…that’s besides the point. Then she watched the Sweeney Todd London press conference and laughed out loud. Actually out loud. That’s amazing. Grapes never laughs out loud. When she’s laughing hilariously with you on AIM, usually she’s stonefaced. It’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. She also watched the “ten decades” interview. Grapes loved it when coffee came out of Johnny Depp’s nose. Ugh. Vulgar humor. Whatever, she’s Grapes and I love her.

Well, goodnight. Tomorrow I think I’ll be off to a resort. I’ll (how do annoying reporters say this) “keep you in the know”, “give you the inside scoop” – the inside scoop of what? Ice cream?

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oh. man down. Monday, Sep 22 2008

Just got back from my uh…ski trip. Yes, I like the sound of that. I was just in the Alpes. Lovely weather there, no need to look it up. As I stormed in the house, ski gear all in a flurry, Grapes reminded me to blog. So here I am. All ready to tell you about my day.

But I can’t. It’s confidential. Uh…to…my…heart?

I can tell you one thing: I accidentally damaged Ernest in the head. As I was storming in the house, ski gear all in a flurry, here comes Ernest squealing to give me a hug. Well it’s called velocity, and it’s called momentum. Simply put, it was the sumo crash of doom.

His girlfriend’s come over to be by his bedside. Kind of like Mandy Moore and DJ AM, if you’ve seen MSN today. Except his girlfriend only looks like Mandy Moore to Ernest, who probably doesn’t even know who Mandy Moore is, let alone anyone if he ends up getting amnesia with that concussion (70% of which are not reported in women). As for me, I suffered nothing. My day-to-day activities have given me abs of steel. I would appreciate holding back comparisons to Superman, thank you. Anyways, her name is Baguette, she’s French and rather tough.

Baguette and Ernest, sitting in a tree…I remember those silly rhymes of yore. Shakespeare, was it? Just kidding, I know my English literature. Grapes is studying it this year. She wants a double decker bus. Just throwing that information out to the world.

Baguette wants to blog. She’s even younger than Ernest, thinks Internet is the 16th wonder of the world.

asdfghjkl;’

haha i was laying flat agianst the ckeys. it is fun. ernest is unconscious so i thought i’d come and see what everyone is talking about. C’est etrange oh1 i can type in french too so much easier mais il n’y a pas d’accents abouve the words. okay i have to go back to ernest now he is waking up a bit

au revoir1

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“Just” a dog? “Just”? Sunday, Sep 21 2008

Salutations, all. My name is La Poo Poo and my owner Grapes insisted that I get a blog (silly word, that is) and interact more with the world. As if I didn’t interact enough already, especially with all I have and am doing in life. School has begun once again for Grapes, and this usually brings about a moody depression for me. The only companion I have during the school year is Peabody, my butler and mostly butt-wiper. I like to call him my buttler. But that pun doesn’t work well verbally.

One day in May last year, May 7th, to be precise,  Grapes came home from school with a creature that she introduced as Ernest. She described him as cute and adorably naive. I would describe him as a nuisance and a bother, stupid, and monstrous. I have never despised anything as greatly as I despise him. I don’t know why, he just has this aura of hateability. According to grapes, I am jealous.

I am not jealous.

She tells me I have been pampered too long and should try and see the “real world”. As if I haven’t seen it. What, is this that monstrous movie “The Matrix”? (For your information, I prefer masterpieces and delicate movies like “Howard’s End” and “Pride and Prejudice”, and cinematic work I can relate to, like the James Bond movies. Those fools in “The Matrix” aren’t agents at all, I’ll show you real operatives. But nevermind that now.) Is my life not reality? I have seen more cruel reality than she has, or that sad little bag has. He’s been adored by Grapes and her school buddies since he was born. Did anybody make me a party hat and invite me to Sushi’s birthday? I thought not. I remember a time when Grapes was loving and didn’t criticize me so. She called me a perfect being, almost as white as her feet. I’ve been thinking, and I believe Ernest may be the source of this problem.

For once in my life, I’m looking forward to ma cousine Guantorga’s visit in May. She lives in an abusive household and as a result is evil and orange. But the color of her fur is another story for another day perhaps. Normally I dread her annual visits which Grapes sets up out of hospitable feelings, but this year I feel she may be of use in regards to Ernest. 

But I do not condone violence so that would never happen. Even in my current job I am chivalrous. And it is difficult to be chivalrous in this field. It is getting quite late, and I must get my beauty sleep in. A couple of hours can do wonders for the puff of your fur.

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