Monthly Archives: October 2012

Happy Ho’oween?

Ok, so as a Chihuahua I don’t particularly like to get dressed up. For anything. Especially Halloween. It’s jus’ not my style, I’m a commando kind of guy. I’m all about hanging out all the way, all the time. With that said, I can respect peeps who want to get dressed up on Halloween. That’s cool, that’s their choice and I’m all about choice..I like to have a choice between chicken and steak and cheese and sugar snap peas, apples with peanut butter…anyway…

So, I’m cool with other people getting their costume on. But what my curious Chi mind wants to know is what the hell is with all the whore costumes for ladies? I mean, seriously. A girl can’t just dress up as regular ol’ Pocahontas, now she has to look like Whorahontas. I mean there are some costumes that jus’ assume a little sluttiness, like you  know, say, a French Maid or a Go-Go dancer…or a hooker. But now, every darn costume made for the ladies has as much material as a shrunken thong. They take the most innocent costumes and strip it down and turn up the skank. Hey! Look at the  Zombie Tramp!

And this not jus’ an issue for grown ladies, but little girls, too! Prepubescent hussy costumes! Doesn’t anyone see that a sexed-up Hello Kitty costume for a 9 year old girl is jus’ WRONG?!  I mean don’t their daddies care? If I was was a daddy _ I mean I can’t be because they cut off my junk before I was old enough to be a daddy – BUT if I were one, I would not want my little girl dressed up as a slutty pumpkin!

I mean I understand that some ladies – LADIES, NOT little girls – may want to feel a little sexy, ’cause maybe they don’t get to dress sexy much, but sheeesh then go for the Play Boy Bunny or “dirty teacher”, but don’t sex-up dinosaurs! I mean I’M an animal and I don’t find dinosaurs “sexy”!

And you know, also I think there’s no creativity in the slut costumes…just take any ol’ idea and show some cleavage and crotch and there you go! Look! I’m a skanky witch!

I realize I may be all alone in my viewpoint…it’s a rare dude doesn’t like a lot of skin, but there’s a lot to be said for what I call the “librarian effect”. You know, a little mystery, little anticipation of what lies underneath…but hey I’m a Chi what the heck do I know, right?

So, jus’ sayin’ that Ho’oween costumes don’t make me think “OOOOO, she’s hot.” I think “OOoo, good thing I got my shots!”
Peace and peas,
Pete

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So I’M The A-Hole?

Ok, so mom tells me I’m an a-hole from time to time. Well, pruddy much every time I snarl and bark at another dog. Which, ok, I have to admit is almost every time I see one on a leash. But a, uh, compact dude like myself, we gotta walk tall, show we’re tough. According to mother that’s being an a-hole. I disagree. I call it not being a victim. Proactive, you know.

So, yeah, I get carried away sometimes, get to feeling my power and I may become a little overzealous. It happens. I mean what good is being alive if a guy can’t get a little crazy now and again, right?

Ok, anyway, so I think MOM is an a-hole, too. I’m sorry, I love her, she’s awesome, gives me sugar snap peas (they’re delicious), but she’s crossed a line. I’ve lost trust and it will take some time to get it back, you know. What did she do you ask?

She took me into the pool. A swimming pool! Like with deep water. Oh she thought it would be funny – ha ha – to get the chi wet. She thought it would cool me off because she thought I was hot. Well, that’s what the hell shade is for. Not water. Not for a chi. We. Don’t. Like. Water. Hate it.

Oh yes, I tolerate the bath, cause well, you know, a guy likes to stay clean. I’m mature enough to realize that baths are a necessary evil of not offending others. I want people to pet me, and I understand they may shy away if I have too much funk goin’ on. I don’t want them to say “Oh looook at that cute chi (cause they do, they say I’m cute) he’s so cute, but man is he stinky. Don’t pet him, he smells like Mastiff butt.”

Anyway, giving me a bath, that’s different than carrying a guy INTO the pool. Carried me in over her shoulder. She got my junk wet.

You know I gotta say it…she…well, she pissed me off. Yeah, she did. I couldn’t even look at her for an hour. Damn sure wasn’t going anywhere near her. Oh she knew she did wrong, she knew. I made sure of it. I gave her the best stink-eye I could muster. You don’t want to be on the receiving end of my stink eye, you’ll feel it down in your soul. If you have one, mom.

<SIGH> So, of course I’m finding it in my heart to forgive her. She does feed me pruddy good stuff, after all. I mean she could feed me MORE good stuff, but I don’t really want to be a tubbo, super-sized chi. I gotta stay at my fightin’ weight. So I got respect her for that, too, keeping a check on my fightin’ weight. Some moms, they don’t care. They’re like “Oh, here baby, have more chicken fat, here, more steak, more Snausages…” And the poor helpless guy eats it up and pruddy soon he’s waddlin’ around like Orson Wells after a doughnut binge.

Anyway, so yeah, I’m forgiving her – slowly, but I jus’ want her to think next she’s calls ME as a-hole. She’s no “Miss Innocent”.

Peace to the Out,

Pete-man