Being A Beagle Ain't Easy...But It's Necessary.

Beagles, Bloggers, Unemployed, Homemakers, Plumbers, Haters...

Welcome to The Beagle's Bugle. A place where you can get a subjective and biased perspective on what it is us beagles are not saying. Now technically, I don't know any beagles (purebreds that is) beside myself. So the haters are gonna say that I don't know what beagles are not saying and therefore who am I to tell you what beagles are not saying...

Well, I'll tell you who I am (can I get a mmmhmmm....) I'm straight off the boat, from Oregon bitches. Spending most of my days, licking my stitches. You ask how I got them - I'll tell you what happened - It's a long story so just sit back and listen...


When I was born the breeders called me the runt,
so I flashed my fangs and I said whassup,
they jumped back and said Oh f-word.
Being the runt wasn't easy for me,
so I had to front and fight for that teet.
Mom's milk was good but hard to get,
so now my therapist says I food possessive.
What's a bitch to do when she's small yet sweet
but to get knocked up by an old horny beag.
Can you blame him really, I mean look at me,
I've been the centerfold twice for Dog Fancy.
At eight months old, life was tough,
I was hungrier than ever with a belly full of pups.
Come summer time and I was ready to deliver, but them pups wouldn't pass without going under the scissors.
They opened me up like a well paid slut, and the pups came out without a grrr or a ruff.
They died and it was sad.

So with a belly of stitches and unable to breed,
There wasn't s-word to do but to lick and eat.
Then came the operation,
Making me a lame duck.
Those breeders, them bastards, they gave me up.
But the Lord up above had other plans for me,
And I was put on a plane to NYC,
With Puffy and Bigge, and of course Jay-Z.
And there my mama saved me and the rest...it's history.

So that's my story. I've never rapped before but it was congenial for the most part. I think it would have been better had I spelled out the f-word and s-word but haters be censoring me. Mostly mom. Speaking of Mom, she's back at school. That's why I started the blog. She's been hounding me to get a job. Says I don't do enough around the house. She may be right. I've been having a "what does it all mean" moment as of late. It used to be food. I think it still is. But I'm open to exploring it. I'm 5 now. This could be a mid-life crisis. I hope not. I'd like a new toy. Congress is in session again. I was considering joining Facebook. I got some friends on there. I won't name them, but they're status updates are utterly dry and frivolous. "I'm sleeping." "I just took a dump and got paid for it, what!." There's the raison d'être. I hope to keep this thing updated for your sake. I'm gonna go scoot now. Bugle more later.