Poetry Thursday

 

Once again, Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have provided us with a photo for Poetry Thursday.

“Stupid jerk!” the bride yelled and hit the motor with a wrench

The groom, who couldn’t fix the engine, was now riding the bench

“My Dad warned me about you” she said in a voice fuming

While he realized this woman, for the rest of his life, he would be rooming.

She shouted “Did you check the oil, I told you to check the oil!”

He said he did not recall

“Well there’s no oil in it now you stupid jerk.”

Looking for an answer he suggested it was drank by a squirrel gone berserk

“Do you think that’s funny,” she yelled “I don’t think its funny.

How did I marry such a dummy

I should have married Fred from the auto pool

At least he would keep oil in the car, he’s no fool”

She asked him if he had his phone

But he gave it to his new brother in law as a loan

He asked her if she had one and if she could unlock it

“Stupid jerk, you think this dress had pockets?”

She told him one of them was going to have to walk ahead for help

He jumped up and said he would do it with a yelp

He told her to lay in the back seat and wait

“That’s where we made love during dates”

“Eat me,” she said not caring to rhyme

And told him to get down the street and make double time

He walked for five miles in the broiling sun

The sound of her complaining he could not out run

Finally he came to a filling station as the sun set

He was breathing hard and covered in sweat

The owner asked him if he left a car behind on the road

When he stopped and thought about his waiting lifetime lode

“It’s just me, I went for a walk and got lost,” he did lie

The truth was while walking and sure he would die

He was never going back his Bridezilla

And took the first bus to Amarillo

She was found by an outlaw trucker

Who upon mutual agreement, he put on the hood and he did pucker

And now she rides shotgun along the Fargo line

Singing and swearing like an uncouth Patsy Cline

 

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

 

Jesus was photographed with his dog Sam, who, rumor is could not walk on water but could skip over pee

Monday Question

 Do you use flea and tick medication and if so which one?

I use the Advantax drops. 

The Ruby Rose Report: Double T Day

 

Ruby has submitted another report. Here is your copy.'

One of the few perks of my Dad's job is that he has an allowance of $40.00 a month to spend on dog food and treats. We got a big bag destined for my tiny belly one month later. But it is what happens the next month that gets me excited.

It is the month of the Double Ts: Treats and Toys.

We get a lot of packages delivered to the house, and most aren't for me, so I ignore them,  but on Friday, when the Double T bix arrived, I could sense what was in it. I had to wait impatiently for Daddy to get home to see what was in it.

When Daddy finally arrived home, I gave him a welcoming lick, then sat on the kitchen floor as Daddy put the package on the table, got a knife, and slit open the box.

First came the treats: There was a big bag of the bacon strips I love. I don't get human food except for watermelon in the morning, so having a variety of treats is essential for my diet, and the bacon strip is the best. I get them in the morning while my parents eat breakfast, then in my treat game at night. There is no natural way for a human to show a dog they love them, but a bacon treat is an excellent start.

There was a new treat, a fig-newton-looking thing, with chicken instead of fig. I wanted to call Chicken Newton, but there was a copyright problem. Chicken Newton was an all-white ska band from Wales in the 80s.

There was another big bag of cookies that might be too big for me, but Daddy had a couple more dollars to spend, and they were only $2..00. I was upset that I got $2.00 treats until I remembered I ate poop.

Finally, at the bottom of the box were the small, inexpensive toys: two puppy bones perfect for my little mouth and a tiny stuffie. I checked out a bone and a stuffed, then grabbed one of the bones, keeping me busy for hours. I only took a break to eat.

My chewing intensity had diminished after the first day, but I still spent time working on the bone and eating treats. What a life I live!

I can't wait until the subsequent box of cheap treats and toys.

And remember, boys, if you are so inclined, I am a very cheap date.

Nature Friday

 Six weeks ago, I began a picture tour of our five gardens. If you choose your flowers smartly, there is always something blooming. As the lilies and rose bush shed their petals, the Black Eeyed Susansl, Butterfly bushes, and Hydrngeas flourish. It is an entire ecosystem in our yard.

Here is a view of our gardens today. The pictures are of the entire gardens instead of close-ups, so everyone gets a chance to shine.

This is our front garden.  I have instructed the staff to thin it out this fall. I like a tidy garden. Since the last report, we added a small Purple Cornflower. It started in the side garden but dried out, so it has been transplanted to its new home.

The late July early August heat played havoc on our side garden which always gets the sun. I ordered the staff to put some decorations to take up space in the garden. Most importantly is the angel which stands proudy at the end of River’s garden

The main garden, or Foley’s garden suffered from a bit of root rot that wiped out most of the Impatients . I have ordered some Mums to be planted by Labor Day. Also, I think some of the plants have become over grown and need to be cut.

Pocket’s garden wins garden of the year. Everything bloomed perfectly, most of all Hobo’s Hydrangea. The Asian Virginbowser bloomed a dozen times. Usually we are luck to get two or three.

This is the long view of the back garden. Except for the rose bush it tends to get what doesn’t grow elsewhere. It takes them in and makes the shine. Maybe I will call it the Rescue Garden.

Finally, I wished I has taken a picture of the Rose of Sharon when it was in full bloom. Here is an isolated one. It ws brilliant two weeks ago, but it was too hot and my camera melted

I have instructed my staff to make the gardens look beautiful for fall. If they are successful I will publish their results. 

Poetry Thursday

 

Once again, Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have provided us with a photo for Poetry Thursday.

Among the numerous paintings, I saw created with great passion

An establishment called Au Cadet De Gasgogne

Being a Yank and not being fluent in French

I decided to consult Google Translate while resting on a bench

I typed the name into my phone

And the answer made me feel like I had been boned

Cadet of Gascony, it read after a bit

And it made me reply, “No shit.”

Having been once again fooled by Mr. Google

And craving an Erect bugle

I inquired about Trip Advisor

And found the Cadet of Gascony restaurant got four stars from the Kaiser

I made my way through the artists aggressively selling their wares

Acting important and putting on airs

I made it to the front door of  Au Cadet De Gasgogne

It was not crowded; the lunch crowd was gone

When met by the Marte’d, I first asked about the name

And he said it belonged to a regiment under Louis XVIII that rose to fame

“To honor them, we make the food that they ate

Don’t worry, it is all first rate.”

I sat at a table with a bottle of wine

Unfortunately, it tasted like brine

I was then handed hard pork that tasted like swine

I complained and was told, “Don’t whine, it's French, it's fine.”

The food made me want to wretch

And I was told to enjoy it was french

I now understood why every picture of the Gasgone I pass

Featured people in terrible distress, all passing debilitating gas

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

 

Everyone else's family has their chips in an easily accesible bag

Not my parents!

They get them in a thin, sticky can.

Well, I hope they are happy now.

Monday Question

 Have you ever donated something to a shelter?

Ruby's Answer: My parents have donated money, food and blankets to the local shelter

The Ruby Rose Report: The Return of the Leopard Skin Vagina Condo

 

 

I was happily sleeping, snuggled under the covers, stirred by a spirit holding a candle, and wearing a nightshirt. At first, I was startled, but then I saw the fluffy tail and piercing dark eyes. I knew it was Foley. But what did she want?

She told me to get out of bed. I mumbled to myself, "what a pain in the ass," then got a sharp look from Foley and remembered that she heard all, although she often didn't understand.

She led me down the hall to the second bedroom, pantry, and playroom. She opened the door and motioned for me to enter. I followed her to a corner, where a strangely shaped pet bed with fur that looked like leopard hair had been thrown into a corner with stuffed animals.

"May I present to you," Foley happily announced, "The world-famous Foley Monster Bed, better known as the Leopard Skin Vagina condo." I was non-pulsed. "It is now yours!"

"To do what?" I asked.

She stood on her back legs,  "to live in, to play. This is where I wrote the first Pup of the week. This is where I wrote the First Aunt Foley. It should be on the National Registry of Historical Dogs. But it's yours."

Great.

"How come it didn't pass on to Pocket or River?" I asked.

"Pocket had her kitty condo, and River," she shook her head and became emotional, "sat on top of it and smushed it, damaging the Van Gogh. That is when I had Mommy put it in the pantry, and it has been tended to by a stuffed Gund. But now it is yours because I know you will take care of it. Go ahead, check it out."

I carefully stepped inside. It smelled like an old Yorkie and stuffed Gund.  I saw a hallway. "Go ahead," Foley motioned to me like Robert DeNiro trying to get Lorraine Bracco into a dress shop on Goodfellas.

It took an hour to tour the kitty vagina condo. The Gund had taken excellent care of it, even if he got Gund hair in the Jacuzzi.

I knew it would hurt Foley's feelings if I didn't take her up on the offer, and I was honored to sleep in the same vagina that Foley did. I accepted it and told her I would care for her vagina. I even promised to douche, whatever that means.

I have moved into the Leopard Skin Vagina condo. I am not comfortable yet; it is like sleeping in the Louve, in a vagina. I need to make it my own and put the most beautiful art on the walls, or at least mirrors.

So, if you're walking down the street, and see a vagina with leopard skin on the ground, stop in and say hello. I'll turn on the hot tub for you.

Nature Friday

 After a week's break I am back to rejoin Arty and Sunny's Nature Friday.\

This week: The Back Garden. I am lobbying to change the name to the 100-Year-Old rosebush garden, because that is where the old lady of the yard lives, and the back garden sounds like a place a Victorian London Pensioner would grow carrots for the war effort.

There are only three different type of plants in the back garden. From the left there are two Hostas called Jimmy and Pacino. Hosta will always be a corner stone in our gardens

The Black Eyed Susans are called Pockets' Susans because she loved having her picture taken in fronr of them.  

In the cent of the garden is the 100-Year-Old Rose Bush. This is a picture of when was in bloom.

And finally, on the far right is Bannon, a Plantation Lily. It's on the extreme right of the yard.

So those are our gardens. Next week I will be back with an overview of our gardens.

.

Poetry Thursday

 

Once again, Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have provided us with a photo for Poetry Thursday.

“Not today Timmy,” his mom yelled 

It was just the ty of them in the house they dwelled

All day long just mother and son

How she wished she had a gun

Timmy was born an sort most ornery

His mom would to treat him like Goldfinger did Connery

“He’s not doing anything wrong he’s just all boy” his dad said

The stupid jerk who she wished was dead

She was going to have it all

Then at Junior Prom she and him did ball

“You need to drop out of school and care for the boy,”

His mother said sentencing her to a life without joy

She knew he was the devil child while in the womb

Every kick felt like the harbinger of doom

Upon his birth she tried to breast feed

He gummed her so hard for a week she did bleed

He was now four a most terrible age

He spit, her cried, he bellowed in rage

He had no off switch like the Energizer bunny

No baby sitter would take him no matter the money

The husband thought the boy could do no wrong

And told her he couldn’t wait until she could again fit into a thong

She hated them both and wanted to be free

She swore he wasn’t this bad when he was the terrible three

One day she could take him no more

She brought him downstairs and kick in the laundry door

She set him on a delicate washer cycle not wishing any harm

He cried wolf so many times his yells would not raise alarm

When he was washed she tried to stick him into the dryer

No one would jail her, she had nary a prior

But he kicked so hard he broke the drum

So to the outside she made him come

When the dad got home he heard the quiet

It usually was a low level riot

Upon finding her in the living room, feet up, drinking wine

She told him Timothy was drip drying on the lne

While Dad rushed out to save the little bastard

And Mom was sufficiently plastered

She called an Uber and left for good

She would now live life as she should

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

I am afraid you misunderstood: I didn't say we were being indiscreet, I said we were doing it in the street

Monday Question

 Where do you sleep and what is your favortie sleeping position?

I sleep in the big bed, on my side, snuggled against Mommy

The Ruby Rose Report: Beating the Heat

I was born in Florida in the summertime. I can remember way back to the summer of 2021. It was a simpler time:

• Max was known as HBO+.
• The Guardians were called the Indians.
• The only President indicted was the one who ran the Hair club for men, covering up more than a big, shiny head.
• And it was hotter than balls.
  

 

I spent my first summer in Florida, barely surviving with the rest of my pack in my birth mom's womb. It was hot and dark, and the only light we saw was when Mom's anal glands opened, and the view wasn't very appealing. It went well for all of us, except for my brother Cecil, who lost his grip, fell, bounced off Mommy's propeller, and disappeared into the deep. A week later, we found him under the couch.

 

Those first few weeks are hard. It is dark in the womb, and adjusting to the light takes a long time. Plus, we have all new parts, which were put together too quickly, and without proper testing. It takes almost two months to get the kinks out and become a good puppy. 

 

When the weather had slightly cooled off, I learned to find my butt without checking the manufacturer's owner's guide. Also, I did not spend much time outside, just sniffing, pooping, and peeing right back in for me. That's the Florida Puppy Life.

 

The Florida air was thick like beef broth when I was shipped to Boston South. I had much the same reaction as the Pilgrims, who stepped foot in Provincetown, said, "Oh hell no," and tried to get out of Massachusetts but couldn't because even then, anyone who tries is hit with a claim of massive back taxes owed.

 

My first summer, I barely went out. I don't poop or pee outside. The Lord didn't make the grass green for me to use as my private leaching field. I stayed in the yard on the cool grass. But, this year, the smells of the breeze drew me from the yard, and I have been walking every since, although sometimes we have to hurry so I can go inside and pee.

 

I didn't mind when the heat came. I guess somehow I built up a resistance to it. I walk, then cool off on the grass under the pine trees, which is nice and shady. My Dad, my chief walker, waits for me like an equatorial Big Man's Bowling Alley towel boy: Sweating his ball's off.

 

I only have a few weeks of the warm weather left, then it will cool down, and I will ease my walking because it is the cold I dislike: It makes it hard to hold my pee, and I don't want to have an accident on the lawn. 

But, still, I have come to love my humid Massachusetts home and don't have any desire to leave (and I owe too much in back taxes even if I did.)