What can I get for ya?

Adventure #6

Can I Get a Beer and a Shot of Saliva Please?

Most people go to bars to relive stress. Some people go to bars too meet people, too socialize or too honestly... "hook up!" I however do nothing of the above.  I screwed myself well over a year ago now. I thought.. Oh, how cute! Let's bring my 10 pound perfectly white English bulldog to all of my spots. The deadly combination of being a bartender  in my twenties.... and in college, I developed a great friendship with all the wonderful bartenders around town. Most places in my town are "dog friendly!" Though, most of them are not "Brutus Friendly!" So, there I was parading around my new purchase and my new responsibility. Strong boyfriend in hand, we would place him on the bar stool next to us, as many patrons came over to Gawk at him! The girls went wild! If it were a few years back, Brutus would have been the one to make the video, Girls Gone Wild! They flocked to him, kissed him and picked him up shoving his puppy breath face into their breasts.  I know I am his Mom but he was absolutely adorable. I have posted pictures of early months of Brutus at our neighborhood spots.  Salty Dog and later in life with Daddy at Legends.

So, now picture Brutus and I, wrinkles, saliva and all heading out to our local pub. He loves to pull with every inch lunging to the bar stool.  Without care or invite, he leaps on to the bar stool and begins to climb up to the bartender as if he is demanding a stiff cocktail! The spit dripping from his face, it begins to form a large pool of goo on to the bar. Funny though, he most likely looks like other customers. Now, where do I sit, you might ask? Well, "just got off work me and been standing all day...YEP! you guessed it. I stand next to him. True, with the amount of people oooohing and ahhing, this place is sensory overload; for a can't get enough attention-filled dog. I am suppose to keep these posts short, so here is a list of things that have happened when attending a night with out my boyfriend, Brutus.  Doggy loose tearing around kitchen, drool, spilled beers, spilled cocktails, spilled doggy bowl water, fisherman style knots to tie down dog, more drool, people poking at his balls, eating old Cheetos of bar floor, spilling wine on my phone, peeing in drain in bar bathroom, drinking Makers Mark, thanks Daddy and Uncle Milo, jumping, falling, biting a girls lit cigarette, drinking Mommy's wine, nipping at old lady, barking a drunk girl, hupping drunk girl, hupping drunk guy, making mud paw stains up old lady's white Capri's, slobbering, knocking over kids walking by, bowling ball styling a drunk guy, pulling friend of chair, pulling many friends off chairs, picking up chicks, getting a buzz and successfully making Mommy Drink more... MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!

Pastel Princess

Adventure #5 Allergic Reactions

I went to art school. An with the enrollment of countless hours of art history and figure drawing you obtain an unusual amount of art supplies. Having to move about three times in less then a year, lets just say my supplies were very shy of Martha Stewart's standards and strewn about my office. The pile went down the hallway and criss-crossed through my bedroom. Probably not an ideal situation for my then 6 month old English bulldog. He would race around with with staplers in his mouth, smudge sticks and oil tubes. Though on this particular day, Brutus decided to ingest a 24-pack of bright colored pastels. For those of you that didn't go to art school; Pastels are the adult form of kids chalk. They break apart easily and when used correctly make for a wonderful drawing medium. Now my once white carpets were covered in neon blues, pinks and oranges and my once white dog resembled Rainbow Bright! Face and head covered in hues of hot fuchsia slobber, again I freaked out!  Only a few weeks since his last emergency trip to the vet, my dumb ass was too embarrassed to call and started looking up the symptoms and dangers online. With absolutely no form of medial skills and few mother instincts, I thought his "reaction" was quite funny! He started spinning in a circle on his back and barking excitedly at his butt! Twists and turns,  he did loop-d-loops throughout our living room. I have uploaded a series of photos of this debacle and I know now this proves evidential support but it's pretty sad that instead of running to the vet, I ran to grab my camera to capture the moment!

OK, yes! So I did finally make it to the 911 Vet. Did I mention he did this on a Sunday? Yep everything is doubled on a Sunday, Thanks Brutus. 450+ dollars later...we were back home with vomiting pills and a saline filled hunch back of Notre Dame dog. The vet filled up his back up with tons a fluids to cleanse out his Monet inspired insides. I have also enclosed a picture of his ginormous backside, it was a sight to see and a artful sized bill. Thanks Brutus, now go and poop out and sell a "Duchamp Inspired,"painting to make up for the bill.

Bleach Can't Even Kill It!

Adventure # 4 Alligator Legs

I use to own things that were clean. Couches, Chairs, Clothing, Shoes, Rugs and Blankets. If you knew me in the Pre-Brutus era, I was the one that had all the perfect outfits. I wouldn't leave the house without ironing everything down to my undies. Now, I don't even know where the iron is? He most likely ate it. Crisp lines, cool T's, ruffled white skirts. White pillows, Tommy Cotton sheets and snowball slippers. Now, my life and my stuff is covered in dirt and saliva. If it was white when I bought it was sure to be covered in slobber by the next day. I don't know what is the obsession is with this dog in chewing, drooling, sucking and sometimes peeing on my stuff? Can someone explain this? It's pretty ironic that my once inhabited bedroom was filled with cleanliness and hope and now I am subjected to muddy grime and rejection. 

Example #1 Would be my Couch. Only bought a few months ago, my attempt at contemporary design, I decided to buy only beige and white furniture. Hoping soon my crazy bulldog would be totally trained and would respect my stuff. Instead...Ah, nope..try again. My couch on a daily basis has to be de-drooled and brushed. I find the craziest stuff in there. Nope, not money or that guy I can't remember his name's phone number. I find chewed sharpies, severed bones, half-ate chap sticks and doggy cookie crumbs.  He owns this couch but somehow doesn't owe on the bills to Ikea. Example #2 Shower Time. I used to be able to relax and take showers with the hope of being fresh and clean. Now, if he is not leaping into the shower to steal the soap, he is humping and covering me with puppy dribble and slime. Don't even think about putting lotion on your legs! You are asking for it. It's like Bulldog Viagra! "The red rocket," will be sure to be out for the rest of the afternoon. I leave the house with the roughest of legs and disgusted idea of ever returning home.

Slim or Super?

Adventure #3

There are certain things that boyfriends, guy friends or boys for that matter shouldn't know about. One word... Tampon. They are a need of most girls in everyday life. Yet embarrassing idea of one; they are a requirement for proper hygiene in most of the world. Well, at least on the west coast of Florida. Hey, Yes! I use em. There! Well, when months have past since your X-Boyfriend has heard you talk about them in any kind of facet, it's weird to call him up with such a story. See many women want men that come to the rescue at a drop of a hat. AKA "fireman syndrome!" I have no problem as a woman in 2011 asking a man to rescue me in certain situations. I can change a tire, nail things into the wall and even kill the biggest spider slithering across the hallway. Though in some times, I need a man to rescue me from grave danger. My 65 pound bulldog AKA Brutus Beefcake AKA garbage collector decided to yet again to dump my trash can over. I was in the shower rocking out to Alicia Keys and didn't hear him rubbishing. Once out of the shower I realized that I have a raccoon leaving in my house. From a sudden recap of "used" tampons I notice two were missing? Holy Crap! and ah, HOLY GROSS! My dog is a male, so what the hell does he want a tampon for? 

Forgot to tell you guys I am on my way to work and can't investigate the missing Pearl Girl Tampon mystery. So yep, I made the call.... Made the call to the X-Boyfriend. DAh DA NAANAAAAH!!! (Picture a red flying cape!)AKA "Daddy." We will call him "John." John, as he did through our whole relationship told me to calm down. Calm down? All I wanna do is freak out! Is he going throw it up and eat it again? Is he going to poop it all out? John reluctantly drives over  to my castle de rental and says he will let me know the outcome.... Tick! Tock! Back to work.... Listening to some of my regulars blabbing about their weekends, I can't help but block them out and think about the bloody mess I have back at home. (No Pun Intended.) What the Hell! Is he going to get Toxic Shock Syndrome? Anyway, I get the call a few hours later of great but embarrassing joy! YEAH!  The little bugger pooped it out! String and all! The sun was about to set, there was ocean waves crashing in the background.. The music sets in and there was my X's and bulldogs silhouette in the driveway. One Tampon and Two!  I wonder if Tampax Pearl picture this in their advertisement? 

Work Those Thighs!

Adventure #2 The Yoga Pants

Thursday Morning. Starbucks extra shot in hand. 65 pounds of pure power ready to work out! Yep setting out towards the bay. He twists and turns in and around my legs. It's as if I am on my own personal army workout course of obstacles. $400.00 plus dollars in personal training and this dog still pulls me with every jump of a lizard and any small smell of a some slutty female dog in the neighborhood. On a side note, what's the deal with dogs licking other dogs pee? Its gross. His tongue begins to quiver and ah, the smell I can only imagine. OK, back to the story. With an extra long phone call to Grandma and the pure adrenaline from my morning coffee, I soon realize someone is slowing down. The bay is beautiful as I approach... the Yoga Pants. These pants are ever so tightly and custom made for the tight ass that exists in them. Blond and toned, her 12 carrot diamond ring is blinding adorned, with a Bebe tank top plunging with store bought cleavage. She is beautiful as the bay as  I notice her perfectly trained dog walks directly besides her. I however, am in a grubby Cubs T-shirt circa '96 with slobber filled sweatpants, adorned with a  backwards hat. Brutus regains his strength and jolts right at them. They sniff each others butts, the dogs not us, and the Yoga Pants and I make small talk. We talk about what streets we live on she asks if I have any kids? I decline, nope just slobber face. She has four. Is about two years older them me, and her ass is medically tighter then mine.... Anyways she turns around back in our direction and Brutus is jumping and humping all over her well behaved canine. She laughs it off and seems to be actually pretty nice. Damn. We make our way passed her ginormous castle and I wave goodbye... YOGA PANTS!

Well I wish I could say that was the end of the story. We make a left and barely make it outside of her drive and Brutus conks out in the middle of Orange Ave. She still standing there and in lets her medically trained dog into the garage and comes over to my rescue. Brutus is panting and snorting. His tongue protruding 7 inches towards the hot pavement. I have three blocks to go and he's Done. Finished! Whipped out! We try everything. Talking in cute high voices. Showing him cookies to get his fat ass up. I pull on his collar practically choking him. Nope. Nada. Not gonna happen. So then, Miss Kinda Nice But Super Hot Yoga Pants offers to drive our fat asses home. I embarrassingly accept. Mortified I enter her deck out Lexus. Silver not a speak of dirt, I place my slobbery are you kidding me? Dog on my lap.  I am discussed and dumbfounded as we drive the 3 little blocks back to my rental.

Slobber Face

Crazy, farting, snoring, sniffing, drooling, messy, dirty, slobbery...these are just a few words to describe my white, year and a half old, fully blooded english bulldog. My life has completely change since I spent way to much to mention on this dog. This dog has brought me many ups in downs into my already complicated life. His name is Brutus. He's muscular and fit for his breed but his big boisterous balls make up for his lack of fatness. I decided to start writing a blog about our weekly adventures. He gets into everything and makes me CRAZY! Completely untrained, he runs wild and rules the house! How I can be on the computer right now is beyond me? I will keep it short and just tell you one small story for today.

Adventure #1 The Hairbrush

Hairbrush. A typical item in ones house. Late for work... looking for hairbrush...Water dripping......DRIP DROP..... everywhere...running around in tiny towel looking for hairbrush.....DRIP.....hmmmmmm I wonder?  DROP.......Brutus? Look everywhere....Throw on this old school x-boyfriend Tee....(Tee reads three years, no ring and all I got was this tiny T-shirt!)  Find a pile of my stuff hidden as a bone would be under his blankets in his crate. No time to punish the little monster...Start brushing clean hair....Don't realize that the Hairbrush is covered with slobber....Plus even later for work, clean hair now covered in slobber....Equals me feeling not cute and more single then ever! Thanks Brutus now go lay you lazy ass down while I go make money for your over the top lifestyle! Real Nice.