About Moi, Dah-ling

The puppies speak...er...write

2007-10-11T12:36:00.000-07:00

Hi, my name is Abby – as in Gnome Hill’s Abby Road? Which is something to do with music or some old group Da Mama, like, listened to back in the ancient times when people had, like, these things, ya know? Like, they went around and around? Anyway, like, Da Mama? Named us all, like, after these guys or what these guys, like, sang?

By us I mean like me and my brothers and sisters. I’m the youngest which is, like, so lame because they all think they’re so, like, smart and I’m so, like, dumb, so I’m, like, “Whatev-er” ‘cuz they never let me say anything anyway so, like, duh, ya know?

First there’s my brother Hokie, who’s kind of a nerd, all skinny and all and I’m like, “Dude, eat a sandwich or something,” which he does, like, all the time, but he still looks like that Bono guy should, like, feed him or something.

Then there’s my brother Nanook who’s, like, really, really uber-big, like Godzilla or something and he’s the only one who can, like, take the boney from Toppergetdown and not get, like, creamed because Toppergetdown doesn’t like anyone to have a boney but him, so he, like, takes all the bonies and keeps them on his bed and I’m like “Whatev-er, Dude,” but Nanook really like the boney and he doesn’t care when Toppergetdown growls about it, he just, like, takes whatever boney he wants and then he’s like all, “Suck it up, Dude,” and Toppergetdown is all, “Grrr, Grrrr,” and I’m like, “Shut up.”

This is my oldest sister Breeze and she’s really nice because she, like, let’s me chew on her ears and her tail and stuff and doesn’t go, like, whining to Da Mama like someone else around here. And Breeze doesn’t talk much and I’m like, “What’s that about?” because we’re puppies, right? Like, we’re supposed to make noise.

After that comes my brother Ringo who hogs all the Snausages and knows where Da Mama keeps them and whenever he sees Da Mama he’s all like, “Gimme a Snausage! Gimme a Snausage!” and jumping on Da Mama and Da Mama is like, “Off, Ringo! Off!” and even I know “off” means not to, like, jump up on Da Mama, but Ringo is, like, “Duh.”

And then there’s my sister Sadie, who’s got, like, A BIG LOUD MOUTH and who THINKS SHE’S SO HOT and all and she’s, like, always in trouble with Da Mama for nipping and sometimes she, like, tries to nip me because she thinks because she’s older than me she’s allowed to and she’s, like, “You have to let me nip your butt,” and I’m like, “Get away from me, Skank,” and she’s like, “You’re a skank,” and I’m like, “No, you’re a skank,” and she’s all, “Real snappy comeback, Geek,” and I’m like, “Whatev-er” and she’s like “Whatev-er.” But when someone nips her butt, she’s all like, “Wahhhhh! Abby nipped my butt! Wahhhh! Wahhhh!”

Oh and there’s my mom, who’s not Da Mama, but, like, my real, biological mother? She doesn’t pay much attention to us because she mostly sleeps all day? Which is fine with me because when she’s awake she’s all, “Be a good Dah-ling and fetch Mother a martini” or “Can’t someone put a muzzle on that chatterbox,” like, meaning me, like I talk too much or something?

So I’m, like, “Whatev-er.”

For the Love of Dog...

2007-08-01T10:05:00.001-07:00

Isn't it time to wean the little beasts, Dah-ling?

Really, Dah-ling...

2007-07-26T06:29:00.000-07:00

Don't we have staff that can deal with these. . .guinea pigs?

Miracle?

2007-07-23T08:11:00.001-07:00

Well, Dah-lings, all I want to know is, who called it The Miracle of Birth?

The Zsa Zsa is not happy. The Zsa Zsa was mislead and there will be repercussions.

Miracles, in case you haven’t heard, Dah-lings, involve heavenly light and angels singing. Pain and groaning are not usually miraculous accompaniment. And I’m pretty sure miracles do not end with EIGHT GERBILS CRAWLING ALL OVER THE ZSA ZSA!

I don’t know whose idea this was, but I have a feeling That Woman was involved in the decision. Thank Dog someone showed up who had a clue.

But gerbils? And they all seem to know The Zsa Zsa and follow The Zsa Zsa all around the Pen of the Huge Dog Head until The Zsa Zsa just has to give up.

I tell you, Dah-lings, I will put up with only so much of this and then it’s off to Boarding School for the lot of them. I’ve already arranged an education for half of them. Three will attend The Sor-Bone. No, not that place they send uncouth people, The Sorbonne, in France. This particular academy is in Germany and accepts only the finest quality applicants. The other will be send to Great Britain to attend Eatin’, which, The Zsa Zsa would like to point out, turned down the Royal Family, who was then forced to send their puppies to Eton.

A few will remain in this country to spread the word of the magnificence that is Zsa Zsa to the far-off lands of Maryland and West Virginia.

A few will remain here to wait upon The Zsa Zsa, a task that seems to be beyond the capability of That Woman, who has yet to recognize The Zsa Zsa’s need for a private spa and personal trainer.

And, perhaps, Dah-lings, they will soon stop looking like cat bait. One can only hope…

And Lo!...

2007-06-20T07:42:00.000-07:00

Our Lady of Gnome Hill

The Angel of Dog came unto the Zsa Zsa and said to The Zsa Zsa, "Be not afraid, The Zsa Zsa. For The Zsa Zsa is favored of Dog. The Zsa Zsa shalt bring forth unto the world that which is The Litter among litters and all will rejoice at the coming of The Litter."

So The Zsa Zsa says to the angel, "How can this be? The Zsa Zsa is pure and virginal, even when The Zsa Zsa went to see the Beloved Q of Bayshore, I swear to Dog -- we only held paws and talked about politics..."

And Lo! The Angel of Dog snickered, yea though The Zsa Zsa wouldst be insistent. "Dost thou not know that already thou art with Litter? And that Litter wilt be a light unto Dogdome and Lo! Six is the number of The Litter; Six is The Litter of the Almighty Dog; The number is Six -- give or take..."

"Don't you know, what with being the Angel of Dog and all?" The Zsa Zsa said unto the angel.

Yea though she would plead, the angel would tell her no more of The Litter. And the angel left her.

And The Zsa Zsa went amongst the people of Virginia and announced the Coming of The Litter, though still a Zsa Zsa of purity and virtue.

And Lo! There was much rejoicing and passing of clam dip and various spirits amongst the people, who also snickered.

I have such news!

2007-05-10T09:17:00.000-07:00

Guess what, Dah-lings!?

The Zsa Zsa has agreed to meet a prospective…shall we say, amore!

Of course, The Zsa Zsa is only barely of age to participate in such an endeavor and The Zsa Zsa, being so shy and retiring, must admit to be slightly ~~horney~~ twitterpated. Oh, yes! The Zsa Zsa is twitterpated!

So we will travel to the farthest reaches of Shenandoah County where there just happens to be the ~~studmuffin~~ gentledog who has caught the eye of the Zsa Zsa. And who knows: a soft spring breeze, a new moon, a little Sinatra on the stereo…and The Zsa Zsa may have an announcement…

But The Zsa Zsa gets ahead of Herselfness…

(You don’t think That Woman was smart enough to find someone worthy of The Zsa Zsa, do you? NOOOOO…Thank goodness for Mamma K, who I suppose had nothing to do since all she does all day is watch soap operas or something. She claims her leg is broken, which, of course, is no excuse for the total cease of regular pilgrimages to do homage to The Zsa Zsa.)

Note to my dear, dear friend Polly: Rumor has it one of your little ~~brats~~ puppies, Liam, had something to do with ~~the attempted murder~~ ~~the maiming~~ the “accident” that caused Mamma K to fall (Mamma K says it was the wet grass and the hillside, but The Zsa Zsa knows she’s just being polite). I’m sure the rest of your litter will somehow manage not to do too much damage to anyone. One juvenile delinquent isn’t so bad, Dah-ling. Though you can’t help but notice that blood does tell, Dah-ling.

To my dear, dear friend, Polly,

2006-09-25T08:24:00.000-07:00

How are you, Dah-ling! It's been so long since we've been in touch. Long, long before The Bedford qualified in herding, which was this weekend.

Last I heard part of your brood has to leave the country...I'm so sorry, Dah-ling! Now, now, these things happen and let's not allow these pesky little ~~disgraces~~ incidents spoil our warm, loving relationship. You can contact me anytime through my close male relative, The Bedford, who qualified this weekend.

I believe one should communicate with all strata of society, whether they are mothers to offspring forced out of the country or, say, a close female relative to high born paragons who qualified in herding. So do write and let me know how your spawn are faring. I'm sure most of them will be permitted to stay here.

Oh, did I mention that The Bedford qualified in herding this weekend? He came in first. We're related, you know.

Licks and Kisses,

The Zsa Zsa

She touched me...and was transformed

2006-08-13T12:21:00.000-07:00

Yes, Dah-lings, there are those that know how to pay proper respect to The Zsa Zsa. And, of course, The Zsa Zsa remembers such tributes and accepts them with dignity and grace.

But there are those who have no self-respect:

Topper in hell

2006-07-25T12:18:00.001-07:00

Uhhhhhhh….

Topper no like the beach. Bad sand. Bad waves. Topper afraid of bad waves. Topper stay in car. Topper Stay! Topper good dog Topper!

AND THE DUCKS! The evil ducks of doom! Topper scared of the evil ducks of doom!

DUCKS EVERYWHERE! QUACKING AND QUACKING! UNDER THE HOUSE! BAD DUCKS! EVIL DUCKS!

Topper run away from the evil ducks of doom!

But there are clams too! Horrible smelly clams, leaving their houses everywhere. Their house spin around. Horrible, spinning smelly clam houses.

Topper want to go home. Home to Salt and ‘Pode. Home to nice Topper bed.

Topper feel bad. Poor puppy Topper feel bad.

Topper hate the beach.

The Zsas on Vacation

2006-07-25T12:18:00.000-07:00

Hello, Dah-lings, from this lovely little island where all their lives they have been waiting for visit from The Zsa Zsa!

Many of the islanders have heard only legends and myths of The Zsa Zsa and never thought that they would actually get to be the in presence of The Zsa Zsa.

Nowhere can The Zsa Zsa go that they don’t want to touch and worship The Zsa Zsa and give The Zsa Zsa offerings of gelato and fish.

But every now and then The Zsa Zsa must get away for some alone time. The Zsa Zsa needs to work on her tan and play in the waves.

The Zsa Zsa was certainly alone, since that embarrassment to Aussie-dom, Topper, was afraid of the sand and wouldn’t come out of the Zsa Zsa-mobile once he’d experienced the beach once.

He’s afraid of clams too.

More for The Zsa Zsa!

And so, as the sun sinks over the … uh … over there, we say good night to The Zsa Zsa. It’s such hard work being an icon.

A Goodwill Trip

2006-06-27T15:14:00.000-07:00

You know, Dah-lings, The Zsa Zsa realizes that not everyone who is an admirer of The Zsa Zsa is able to make the trip to gaze upon the magnificence that is The Zsa Zsa.

Not all The Zsa Zsa’s admirers have lackeys to transport them. There are even those of The Zsa Zsa’s species who do not travel anywhere. They stay at home always and are treated like….pets.

The Zsa Zsa realizes the plight of these poor, impoverished beasts living in third world squalor without an inkling that somewhere is a wonderful place where there is The Zsa Zsa all the time. And so The Zsa Zsa must make her mission of mercy to the poor and suffering of Northern Virginia, as a sort of Angelina Jolie of the canine world.

So That Woman brought me to the house of the Rudy and he was permitted to look upon all that is The Zsa Zsa.

How can I describe the joy on his mug when the Rudy was permitted to gaze and sniff The Zsa Zsa! There is something so … so … endearing about a subject who knows his place when ~~I tear his face off~~ in my presence.

And then there was the performance in honor of The Zsa Zsa: the squirrel juggling, rope wrestling, and musical aria.

Of course there were the many offerings that are only The Zsa Zsa’s due, after all, and the permitting of the rabble to stroke The Zsa Zsa’s head, which is all part of the kindness that is The Zsa Zsa.

Oh yes, That Woman was there, knocking back the wine and feeding her face without a thought to The Zsa Zsa. Luckily there were among the throngs two others who appreciated the excellence of The Zsa Zsa and observed the usual protocol of praise and mass quantities of treats so important to the happiness of The Zsa Zsa.

I must admit, I had forgotten, living with That Woman, what proper adulation of The Zsa Zsa should involve. Apparently those of the Northern Virginia have not forgotten the old ways of Zsa Zsa worship and am considering throwing That Woman out of The House of Zsa Zsa in favor of The Woman of Many Treats and the Lesbian Pirate Ninja Witch.

However, as you well know, charity work can become a trifle tedious after awhile and, quite honestly, The Zsa Zsa found watching the Rudy sleeping a tad boring, though I’m sure his dreams were filled with visions of The Zsa Zsa.

So The Zsa Zsa told That Woman to wrap it up, received The Zsa Zsa’s well-deserved parting honors and tears of gratitude, and drove off in the Zsa Zsa-mobile to the exile palace of squalor.

Linguini Canines Tonight

2006-06-20T10:56:00.000-07:00

Crack canine correspondent Salt here, with the latest gossip about the Linguini doggie world.

Bling, Bling

Da Mama showed up with some pretty fancy bling, bling courtesy of a certain diva's ex-person. Who's the Aussie though? If you ask Her Royal Highness, she'll claim it can be the Zsa Zsa and no other.

"Look at the noble bearing, the focused, intelligent expression, Dah-ling. It could be no other than moi!" she said recently while ~~chewing on my neck~~ recreating at a local spa.

Da Mama refused to comment on whether the dog in question was indeed Her Snootiness or Topper Get Down, speaking of whom...

Lookie, Lookie

Ever wonder why a certain "purebred" never saw the inside of a show ring and was immediately whisked away to a "posh spa" shortly after his arrival to the Linguini scene?

Well, get a load of what the paparazzi caught going by this week.

Ain't no amount of bait-throwing going to make those ears perk up. He gets his ear wax cleaned out every time it rains. He could fly to Argentina with those wings!

Meanwhile...

The infestation continues.

That's all from the Linguini canine front. Until next time, keep yer paws on the ground and your tail out of the door!

Today Topper is Good Boy!

2006-06-15T11:15:00.000-07:00

Topper here cuz Zsa Zsa in biiiiiig trouble.

Da Mama say, "Bad girl, say mean things about Polly. No computer for you, Zsa Zsa."

So Topper here. Good dog, Topper. Topper is a good boy.

Topper show you pictures. Pretty pictures da Mama came home with. Da Mama show Topper pretty pictures because today Topper is not Bad Boy Topper.

Look at the pretty picture Da Mama show Topper.

See?

Topper doesn't know what it is a pretty picture of, but Da Mama say, "Awwwww." And Daddy say, "Awwww."

Da Mama's puppies say, "Ewwwwwww. What the hell is that?" and Da Mama get mad and yell at the puppies. She says the puppies are saying bad things just like Zsa Zsa.

But Da Mama still not mad at Topper because today Topper is Good Boy Topper.

Then Da Mama show me this pretty picture.

I still don't know what it is, but it sure is big!

So Topper see all the pretty pictures and the Topper watch Mr. Tsssst* with Da Mama on the bed cuz Topper Good Dog.

Zsa Zsa and Da Mama not speaking. So Topper is Da Mama's special dog.

So Zsa Zsa called Topper a bad thing, but I won't tell what it was cuz the Topper is not a tattletale. The Topper has no tail at all!

*The Dog Whisperer

To my close, personal friend, Polly

2006-06-13T18:49:00.000-07:00

My Dear, Dear Friend, Polly,

The Zsa Zsa has heard you have had a blessed event and the Zsa Zsa would like to extend warm wishes to you and your little ~~brats~~ brood!

Why Dah-ling, I didn’t even know you were …you know…on the nest, as we politely say. And don’t you worry, Dear. The Zsa Zsa is sure your intended will do the right thing. I wouldn’t believe a word of what everyone says about him being a “stud” and a “dog.” He’ll get around to settling down and making you an honest little ~~whore~~ bitch. Someday.

And how are those ~~filthy~~ darling little ~~beasts~~ puppies? The Zsa Zsa was just ecstatic to find out that they are all as fit and healthy as can be expected when the mother is so ~~trashy~~ healthy.

At least you have my close male relative, The Bedford, living with you to provide your offspring with an example of good breeding and refinement. Though they may never attain the level of superiority The Bedford has attained, they cannot help but benefit from his leadership qualities, in spite of their maternity.

The Zsa Zsa does wish you well, Dah-ling, as well as the Zsa Zsa has ever wished you when we lived together in the peace and harmony that can only be found in the presence of the Zsa Zsa.

You are like a sister to me, you little bitch.

Love, the Zsa Zsa

Editor's Note: Zsa Zsa doesn't like it to get around that Bedford is her son and that she lost custody of him to his father. She claims she is too young to have had puppies. We just let her live in her little fantasy world.

Polly's "intended" is actually Milwin Legend of Bayshore.

Puppy pictures will be forthcoming, since Ms. Zsa Zsa may be on disciplinary leave.

The Ball

2006-06-05T05:59:00.000-07:00

By Gaspode

Throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball……………………………………………..

THE BALL!!!!!!!!!!!

There’s the ball there’s the ball there’s the ball there’s the ball there’s the ball there’s the ball…got the ball got the ball got the ball got the ball got the ball got the ball……..

Throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball THROW THE BALL THROW THE BALL THROW THE FREAKIN’ BALL……………………………………………..

THE BALL!

Where’s the ball where’s the ball where’s….

YOU GOT THE BALL NO FAIR YOU DIDN’T THROW THE BALL

THROW THE BALL THROW THE BALL

THROW THE BALL

THROW THE BALL……………………………………………………

I SAW IT THAT TIME YOU DIDN’T THROW THE FREAKIN’ BALL

THROW THE BALL THROW THE BALL

THROW THE BALL

THROW THE BALL……………………………………………………

THE BALL!!!!!!!!!!!

THE BALL!

Here’s the ball.

HERE’S THE BALL!!!!!

COME BACK HERE!!!!! HERE’S THE BALL!

(Snort)

Chew the ball chew the ball chew the ball chew the ball chew the ball chew the ball chew the ball…

(Sigh)

(Snore)

The Fabulousness that is The House of Zsa Zsa

2006-06-03T05:56:00.000-07:00

Here is The Palace of the Zsa Zsa in all its glory!

Here is The Throne Room of the Zsa Zsa. That Woman thinks it is her office, because I spoil her so. I treat her like a dog instead of my human pet.

This is the Throne Room of That Woman.

Here are the slave quarters.

Here is where The Meals of The Zsa Zsa will be prepared.

Here is The Zsa Zsa’s private living quarter.

The Zsa Zsa will be granting audiences at the end of June. Call That Woman for an appointment.

If she ever gets off her throne…

Here is The Zsa Zsa you seek!

2006-05-30T04:58:00.000-07:00

The Zsa Zsa knows you have all been wondering, "Where has The Zsa Zsa been? We have not seen her as she is conveyed through town by her driver, That Woman. We are waiting to offer our praise to The Zsa Zsa's fabulousness, yet no Zsa Zsa do we see!"

That is because The Zsa Zsa has of late been left home to languish in this House of Squallor.

"Too hot," That Woman says, heading out the door.

Just an excuse, don't you know, Dah-lings. She cannot handle the competition of the wonderfulness of the Zsa Zsa.

Oh, every now and then The Zsa Zsa is taken to supervise the building of the Palace of The Zsa Zsa. This timely undertaking, which has taken centuries to complete, was begun before the Time of The Zsa Zsa, in anticipation of The Zsa Zsa and, now, to the Glory of The Zsa Zsa.

The time is close to where The Zsa Zsa will actually live in her palace and then all and sundry may come to The Court of The Zsa Zsa, where they may gaze upon the magnificence of The Zsa Zsa.

But until then, That Woman keeps me here in this fetid little shack with no one to talk to but those Parson Corpuscle beasts, that oaf Topper and the giant mold that is taking over the dining room ceiling.

"Too hot," my paw.

2006-05-20T06:52:00.000-07:00

A blog for moi?

I'm speechless!