Woof Humor

The Eighty-Eighth Interrogation

SOMETHING is up.

I JUST finished sorting out all the names before going to bed last night, and this morning as I trotted down the stairs to get cracking on the heinous task of selecting only one draft among the tens of thousands, when I noticed that instead of the notes being in neat piles, like I’d left them last night, they were all over the place. ALL OVER THE PLACE!!!!

Do you know how much blood and sweat and bladder control it took to arrange ALL the sheets alphabetically?? Do you know the amount of sleepless nights I had to go through to get the work done when I did?? DO YOU KNOW WHAT I’M GOING TO DO TO THE PERSON RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS ONCE I GET MY HANDS ON THEIR DIRTY LITTLE NECKS?????????????

They’ve managed to make the past three days of my life count only as complete wastes. They’ve wrecked all the plans I had of the delicious announcement I had planned to release today. And they’ve also gotten my day off to an utterly crappy start. Thanks a LOT, eejits.

Looks like I’m going to have to start all over again. The problem is, the family returned from their little rendezvous yesterday morning, so I don’t know how I’ll be able to work today. Or tomorrow. Or any day for the rest of my life.

[In case you’re wondering how come my parents didn’t see the scraps of card lying around the house, I want to let you know that I very cleverly -if I may say so myself-  pushed all the scraps under the carpet in the hall. They may have been a little suspicious -after all, the rug is now elevated to a height of about fifteen feet thanks to all the bits shoved there- but they didn’t show it]

WHAT AM I GOING TO DO????????

Woof Humor

The Eighty-Seventh Problem

I probably should have thought the whole thing through before sending that eMail, because NOW, I have to find a top hat big enough to fit, like, seventy-eight million little chits so I can pick one random winner.  [At least Mom and Dad have taken the girls and gone for a weekend retreat and left me to my own devices -except for the neighbour who lets herself in, fills my water and food bowls and tries to persuade me to go for walks with her. Doesn’t she see that I have more pressing issues to deal with than my on-the-verge-of-exploding bowels??-. I wonder how they will react when the arrive and see their house chock-full of paper…] Grrrr, this is SO frustrating!!

I wish I could go back in time and undo the whole B-Dawg thing. I realize now that it was a terrible mistake, even though I DID manage to dish out life-changing advice without which my readers would dispair.

At least there is ONE perk.

I just never even dreamed that my advice column would become SO popular. I certainly didn’t see THESE kind of numbers. I mean, if you told me a few days ago that I would  get nearly a million replies to my advert on the 13th, I would have strongly suggested that you got yourself admitted into a lunatic asylum first thing tomorrow. But now… But now that seems like the most  normal thing in the world.

And the most tiring.

How am I ever going to get all this work done?? I definitely need an agent to coordinate all my social events and take care of trivial stuff like lotteries that I am going to have to arrange for my fans.

And a personal secretary to take care of all the calls and eMails that are pouring in like nobody’s business nowadays.

And a physical fitness coach to give me tips and pointers on how to reduce my waistline [do you know that my hips are twice as large as that of my human father’s??]

And a gourmet chef to whip up snacks whenever I please.

No wonder I am am so exhausted when I go to bed nowadays; I’m doing the work of FOUR grown men!!

Woof Humor

The Eighty-Sixth Decision

As the title suggests, I have decided.

I have figured out how to choose a winner; by picking lots. I KNOW, there are infinite better ways to select someone to follow my prestigious footsteps, but I don’t really CARE.

Oh My Gangster Gun, I can’t believe I actually wrote that!!

I mean, of COURSE I care, it’s just that I don’t have the TIME. How do you expect a DOG to spend hours on the COMPUTER [just for the sake of some silly columnist I decided to create just because I had nothing else to do]??

So I sent a mass eMail to everyone who clicked the “I want to participate!!” button on my CL advertisement -curse them- and told them that if they wanted to seriously become the next B-Dawg, they should send their name to my address.

On after thoughts, that probably wasn’t the wisest choice. I mean, what are Mom and Dad going to say when they receive a TSUNAMI WAVE of chits with random people’s name’s scribbled on??

B-Dawg, SAVE ME!!!!!

Woof Humor

The Eighty-Fifth Revelation

I have absolutely NO IDEA how I’m going to select one single, solitary person from the masses who have declared that they’d be interested in sabotaging the rest of their life by agreeing to dedicate the rest of their time on earth as a major know-it-all.

Maybe I’ll have a “Let’s See Who Can Eat The Most Donuts” contest, even though it has absolutely nothing to do with writing, because who doesn’t love donuts??

On the other hand, maybe I should just stick to the most basic elimination scheme of them all and ask everyone to send in their names, addresses and the reason why they think they’re good enough to be, well, ME.

On the other hand, what about the TENS OF THOUSANDS of kids who will be rejected?? After all, I can choose only ONE B-Dawg, can’t I?? I mean, what is even the point of an anonymous columnist if “it” isn’t even anonymous?!!??!!???

All these questions, all these demands, all these pressures are going to be the end of me. I think that I REALLY need a holiday, not just my alter ego!!

Uncategorized

The Eighty-Fourth Swoon

I am still not sure how I missed all those notification beeps that hit my computer when someone checked out my advert on Craigslist. Maybe  just though someone had left the refrigerator open or something.

The point is, in exactly two minutes, I received TWO THOUSAND replies to my ad. How many will I have now, nearly SIX DAYS since I put my offer up?? [I  logged out of my CL account and shut down the window as soon as  I saw the staggering number appear on my account]

I’m almost too scared to check. I mean, what if there are so many that the whole computer crashes, unable to take in the enormous amount of input??

Here goes nothing…

NOWAY. NOWAY. NOWAY, NOWAY, NOWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!! 709,765 REPLIES!!!!!!!!!

Too exhausted to… to…

>Faints<

Woof Humor

The Eighty-Third Tryout

I gave it a night’s pondering [two nights, in fact]and have come to the conclusion that it’s time to pass over the B-Legacy to someone who doesn’t aspire to become anything more important that a well-known advice columnist.

I even created a free ad on Craigslist stating that “anyone who wants to become the nation’s next BIG social figure can sign up at WoofDiaries.com” I put up the offer only about three minutes ago, so I shouldn’t be surprised if I don’t get a response even as late as tomo…

Would you believe it?? I’ve already got a candidate who is willing to fill up B-Dawg’s shoes. So even if nobody else is willing to sign up, I’ll at least have ONE person to…

Hey, another potential future-me!! At least there’ll be SOME competition…

Oh My Granola Bar, I don’t have TWO requests from people who want to turn their lives into whirlwinds and compete for the post of B-Dawg…

I have two THOUSAND.

Woof Humor

The Eighty-Second Leaflet

It’s official; B-Dawg is DEAD.

To be completely honest, “it” isn’t DEAD dead, but currently at a retreat in Miami for some well-deserved R&R [at least, that’s what I told the 8,398 people who mailed me for life advice between May 30th and today].

Moving on, [talking about my alter ego is utterly tiring. Even the though of sitting through piles and piles of messages and then actually REPLYING to all of them is enough to make me barf -which is weird, since writing is my “thing,” you know??] guess what I tried my hand at yesterday?? Peeing on Dad’s brand-new lawn mower!! [Ever since I stopped answering fan-mail, I seem to have TONS of time on my paws]

The only reason this gives me even a smudge of satisfaction is because Daddy called me a “bad girl” yesterday and you KNOW how cross that makes me. Calling a dog a “bad girl” is like calling an African a “black.” It’s just NOT done.

And, OK, maybe I WAS curled up on the living room couch when he walked in, thus leading to him call me what he did, but are you SERIOUS?? Just because I HAPPENED to spot a serial killer on the sofa [aka the cushion] and was TRYING to assassinate him before he killed my family doesn’t mean anyone, ANYONE, has the right to call me BAD. I JUST WON’T STAND IT!!

That’s why, after checking that the coast was clear, I trotted off to the garage, slipped in through the shutters and did my “business” all over Dad’s new, most-prized possession.

I kind of regret it now, because I’m sure that he’ll figure out it was me, anyway, [I think he knows that Mom and my siblings have more important things to do than to go on an elaborate revenge mission and pee on his new piece of “man-meta”l] and that will lead to another insulting round of him calling me all sorts of names in front of my kin.

I would rather like it if I could hand over the responsibility to one of my fans and turn him/her into the next B-Dawg. That way, I will be able to do more worthwhile things with my time than answer letters from desperate teens and I will have someone to ask questions to. I will have someone always there to guide me and listen to and…

Hey, wait a minute!! That isn’t such a bad idea, now is it?? Handing over my B-Dawg responsibilities will be a BIG step, but will also be for the ultimate good of the society. After all, a person/dog with my intellect should be spending more time on constructing rockets.

Let me think about it, though. Usually, sleeping on a problem helps me get a clearer picture of things.

What do YOU think?? Should I continue as the nation’s most sought-after advice giver or hand over the baton??