|A Terrific Tuesday to you all. Look, I don't kid myself around here. I know that this forum is much like the majority of my Facebook Frenemy's and y'all are in it just for updates from The Mister and Ziggy's antics. It's fine. I am ridiculously ok with this (not to be confused with what caused NeNe to have this reaction).With that being said , the level of pureridiculousness pertaining to Ziggy has reached an all time high. Following are a couple of instances.|
|Wearing: Dress: Via: Ambiance. Boots: Report. Necklace: Stella & Dot|
First off, I was in my front room on Friday getting ready to leave and Mister Toad's Tours comes driving by in their dumberthanaboxofrocks car and stops in front of my place for a photo op for all the tourists and I overhear the following jackassery fly out of the tour guides mouth: "Sometimes, there is a bulldog that hangs out in this Bay window." Then he honks the absurd horn and Ziggy comes running out of my bedroom, hops on the couch and poses for these fools. SPDUIFHPWUHR[WEH!!!!!!! ZIGGY!!!!!!!!! GET A FREAKING JOB OR A LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why are you all of the sudden a San Francisco tourist attraction? I am all about being world famous. Hellsbells, that is why I started this blog. But I work my ass off for this blog and Ziggy doesn't do a damned thing all day but apparently give shows in the window of my Victorian. I am now contemplating asking Mister Toad for fair compensation.
Secondly, my preciousaspie Momma sent us an early holiday package. In it was the biggest argyle dog sweater I have ever seen. OBVIIIIIIII, I quickly slapped that thing on Zig. Ummmm, can I just tell you that he is fullblown obsessed with this sweater. He wants to wear it all the time. I will say: "Zig-a-pig, want to wear your sweater?" Dude will come flying like Super Man across the room jumping around like a bucking bronco until I get his clothes on. Then he sticks his nose so far up in the air and gets really proud and goes and shows off to whomever is around. I can't decide if he looks like Turtle or a fat rapper. You tell me. The best part is, he was yelling at some people to get out of his yard and The Mister told him: "No one is scared of you and your grandpa sweater, Ziggy, so shut it." Zig was all: "Whatever man, It was all a dream. I used to read Word Up magazine."
I tell you all of these little bubba anecdotes because this past weekend marked three years since I got Zig. Anyone who knows me, knows that I am nothing if not tenacious. When I decided I wanted a dog, I was watching Rob and Big and then immediately visualized exactly what I wanted. I knew I wanted a white male bulldog with black on his eye and a black nubbin. I scoured the internet and became an expert on bulldogs, whilst also becoming completelytotallystupidly obsessed and determined. I found a breeder in Tennessee (who ended up being a bonafide POSloserface) and within a couple of weeks, I had a 21 lb puppy shipped to me via Northwest Airlines cargo. That's right, bubbz was 21 lbs at 8 weeks old. I should have known at that point that this was going to be T-R-O-U-B-L-E. In the past three years, Zig has moved across the country with me twice, eaten thousands of dollars worth of handbags, hogged the majority of the bed the majority of the time, become my littletinylittle baby, my bestgoodfriend, and brought The Mister and I together. He is a blessing on my life and I love him so much, that at least once a day I start missing him immensely. He is the cutest of the cutes, the puppiest of the pups, and the bubbiest of the bubbs.
|Zig, the day after I got him.|