Thursday, January 5, 2012

Whining

This is how I feel sometimes.*
whine [ wīn ]   Audio player

  1. complain peevishly: to complain in an unreasonable, repeated, or irritating way
  2. make high sorrowful sound: to cry, moan, or plead with a long, plaintive, high-pitched sound
  3. utter something in whining voice: to say something in a plaintive high-pitched voice

*This dog is named Buster and whines no matter what you do. I just took him for a walk and fed him and gave him duck and cherry dog treats that are more than most Haitians eat in a year. I'm convinced Buster has mental problems, fear of abandonment issues, lacks trust, like me.  What do you think about buster?

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

That dog is a Republican - all he does is whine. He's the best whiner I've ever heard - unbelievable whiner. Post it on the net - make him famous!

Anonymous said...

what happened to the pontifacation summary, I thought you already handled the explanation of what we already knew of you, don't you feel stupid now, puppy?

Oggy Bleacher said...

Are you even allowed to be on the Internet after bedtime?

What I know about myself that you don't know about me would leave you shitting in your Jar Jar Binks pajamas. So, no, I'm not done feeling superior yet. The other night I read "Just Kids" by Patti Smith, her memoir of her days in 1967-75 NY with Robert Mapplethorpe. Mapplethorpe (http://www.mapplethorpe.org/portfolios/) was an artist. So is Patti Smith. Can you define artist? Can you spell artist? Here's a hint: I think your fav Fox news hour has an arts and entertainment segment where they talk about celebrity cellulite and movies and cunt rashes. Artists are something like that. Art must transform the artist in order to transform the audience. Are you still with me? But if the artist is transformed then they run the danger of becoming a different person than who created the art to begin with. That's called a paradox and this paradox secretly underlines Smith's book and brings the artists to their respective fates. Now, run along and find some cubes to play with. This message will self destruct in 3...2...1...

Rosi said...

Thanks. Now if I ever feel that I am missing my dog I can just pull up your blog. Right here at work and remember that I don't really miss him.........

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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.