Guess Who's Back?...It's about time!

By process of elimination, it's ME! Thank you all of my faithful followers for your faithfulness. It's seen me through recent tough times of traveling, socializing, and stomach pumps. I think it was Tolstoy that said in the event that you have masticated rat poison, be sure to take a teaspoon of hydrogen peroxide and throw it up. Unfortunately, I have yet to get into the Russians. I'm still reading Travels With Charley. Then I have to read Marley and Me which I've been told is a hoot! I love Owen Wilson! So I think I've mentioned before on this blog that I'm a bit of a culinary daredevil. Living up to the hype, I ate rat poison two weeks ago. I was in Peoria of all places. A place where such things are expected. Anyway, it was good (the rat poison). Sweet, not to rich, good texture - it was kinda like Fruity Pebbles. I've always preferred the Cocoa ones but I'm not supposed to have chocolate. Going stealth, I followed Dad down into the basement and as ole Toucan Sam says, Follow your nose. True to form, it found the gold. It had turned green though. But I couldn't tell - I'm colorblind. Dad caught me patting the sides of my mouth with a napkin and low and behold there beneath me was an empty dish of rat poison. What? I retorted. He answered with his fingers at the bottom of my esophagus. I can hold my liquor and my rat poison so despite his cute attempts and concern I wasn't bringing that back up for anybody, I thought. We took a trip through Peoria, which if you've ever read Dante's Inferno, is reminiscent of Circle 2. It's not that bad. Mom's crying though. She's upset with Dad for trying to spoil my snack. She gets me. Dad, in his guilt for shoving his fingers down my throat, is giving me one hell of a back scratch. One of the more memorable ones. We come to this place - everyone's wearing a white coat, I'm thinking finally, we're committing Dad. A long time coming. Instead I go for a ride. They inject me with something. I'm thinking, you know I quit this stuff awhile ago back in Oregon, but one more time can't hurt. It was bogus stuff though because all I did was throw everything up. Rat poison and all. I'd been bested! Usually throwing my stuff up is just what I call seconds but this time it wasn't going back down. To make a long story short, I'm unfazed. Still in fighting form. I'm a survivor! I'm a little more weary of Dad, but hell, what else is new? During my recovery I spent some time dominating a couple punk uncles of mine - George and Bailey. Talk about Omegas. These guys would make Benji feel like a Great Dane. Right now, I'm getting back into the habit of blogging. Still waiting for some sponsors...I think the name of that rat poison was Myrtle's or something, if you guys are interested. Works on dogs too! Think about it. I'm looking forward to the royal spoiling I'm about to get from Papa and Nana coming out in a few days. Getting myself ready for that. Sleeping a lot. The celebrity thing tanked. I was at a benefit for Perez Hilton's forehead reduction surgery and met most of them and actually really hit it off with the community. VH1's recruiting me for the next season of The Surreal Life. I'm weighing it. Michael Vick's gonna be on it though. But like I've said, I'm a fightgrrrr......!!!!!

Viva la Revolucion!

I've been constipated lately. Actually maybe not so much constipated as I've realized the power in holding it. I got taken out for an hour walk yesterday. One hour! Because I was supposed to go. This idea that we're supposed to go is a societal convention (and doctor recommended) that I will not adhere to. As was my namesake, we are renegades. We will not be put in a box (or a bag) and we will hold it! And we will get long walks and we won't buckle under the pressure of a leash or a "please potty Bo." We will remain constipated and go when we say it's time. We will not have our heads cut off for our rebellious constipation either! That's what happened right? So beagles out there, spread the word - Constipation is power and power is a plug for constipation and constipation in itself is a plug (I guess) and constipation means long walks and long walks means more potential to find bunny poop to roll in or more butts to sniff or a fallen french fry. Viva la revolucion!

A Very Special Day!

Faithful followers:

Let's just say it's been awhile. I take some of the blame. I got a new rawhide. It's tough. A good tough though. More like a delicious tough, but tough nonetheless. I've been out of the rawhide scene for awhile so getting back in has been like easing into a peanut butter bath - slow at first and slow later too but euphoric overload in the end. That and you get real thirsty. So I've been peeing alot too. So with eating the rawhide and then drinking water and peeing I haven't had much time to blog. Not to say this is any reflection upon my followers. I just knew ya'll would understand. And if you don't then get a rawhide or take a peanut butter bath and you will. Today though is a very important day. Yes, it is the day that I'm blogging after not blogging for a week but more than that (a little more ;)) is that it's my Mama's birthday. So happy birthday Mama! And in honor of your birthday I will not use any profanity in this blog. That's how much I love you. The Navy really did a number on me. Blog you soon!

Coyotes and Dogs Just Don't Mix!

Hold the phone! The celebrity gossip can wait. Well actually this is celebrity gossip but it's serious. Jessica Simpson's dog - Daisy (an acquaintance of mine from my early pregnancy days) has ran off with some coyote! You believe that?! A coyote! Oh the shame! Daisy always had a thing for wild dogs (I'll never forget that Rottweiler in New Orleans (I think his name was Bubba)) but this is taking it too far! Daisy if you're listening - a coyote really!? They're not even dogs. They eat chickens for goodness sakes! I mean I love a good cooked chicken francese (cooked and francese being the operative words there) but we're talking feathers and all! Oh Daisy, what has become of you? Your mama was feeding you steak for dinner. And filet on top of that. Why take the feathered chicken when you can get the filet? That's what I used to tell those old hound dogs but that's another blog all together. But Daisy listen up! I want you to hightail it home. That Wile E Coyote may make you feel like you're two again but so can those pills we used to find on the floor in your mama's bathroom. You know coyotes ain't nothing but trouble. He just wants you for the filet. Besides, I don't even think they speak Dog!

Machinations

People, beagles, may be asking themselves what's with the lull in bugles? I'm a celebrity gossip columnist. You can't expect a celebrity to do something, say something worth writing every day. They're not machines. Although Haley Jole Osment played a pretty good one. Also, I'm not a machine. Although I eat, defecate and sleep at the same time on a daily basis. It's detailed on my resume. But this weekend I did those things double-time and alas was unable to work in a bugle. However today, I got an inside tip on some late-barking news and was back to my routine.

Michael Moore's second chin has signed on to star as the new villain, The Gobbler, in the next Batman installment. In other Michael Moore news, he still hates capitalism but I've heard likes to wipe his ass with Hamiltons. Because he hates capitalism so much.

Apparently the Emmy's were on last night. Or was it the night before?

David Hasselhoff has a drinking problem. Still. Explains hosting America's Got Talent. Still.

Kelly Clarkson is a fan of her butt. Her words. And Sir-Mix-Alot's.

I'll try to stay on the ball. Be it the bugle. I'd lick all ya'll if I could. I'll just think of ya'll when I'm licking my paws.

Love your celebrity!

The Weight of Glory

I had a bit of nervous breakdown today realizing the responsibility I have taken on as a celebrity news columnist. It was so bad it took me four squats to find the right place to deuce. Dad was telling me to breathe. "Just breathe," he said. He stole that from Faith Hill. He's such an unoriginal nincompoop. And he wants to be a writer. He'll never be Faith Hill. She's genius. So I pretended like Faith was singing it to me and then I was able to drop the weight that I, perhaps society, has put on my shoulders. And let me tell you, it was a lot of weight. About four stogies worth. I'm usually a twopher. But I have 5 followers now! I can't let you guys down. What would you guys talk about at parties, bah mitzvahs, PTA meetings if I didn't feed you the celebrity manna?! You'd probably go on talking about clinging to your guns and overalls and collector matchbooks. And we all know what those lead to. America's Got Talent! And no self-respecting person wants to go on that show. I was a mother once - I understand the importance of a mother's milk. That's why exposing my metaphorical nipples. I have eight of them. Literally. So here it is. Open up and take it nice!

Tyra Banks is awkward.
Oprah knows how to throw a party.
Michael Moore hates capitalism. Loves money.
Charlize Theron is waiting for gay marriage to become legal to get married. She's gay.
Jon Gosselin will not be starring in Kate + 8 - Jon = Who the &#$@ cares!

Taste good don't it? That should fill you up for now. Keep it dialed here beagle lovers!

A New Dawn! A Late Breaking, Ground Breaking, Up-to-Date Dawn!

I made a pledge to myself to use this blog as an advocate for beagles and the issues we beagles are currently up against. Then I thought that we've won Westminster, there are multiple movies starring beagles and our supernatural and natural achievements, and there's even a stupid comic about one of us (whom I will not mention as not to encourage the stereotype). That being said, we're not really facing issues. Maybe a little overeating or over-sniffing here and there but that's to be expected. We're dogs! And beagles on top of that! Then I thought I'd use this space as a platform to jump-start my career in gangster, excuse me, gangsta rap. But I think I was a one-hit-wonder. Me trying to rap is like the Olsen twins trying to eat. It's too forced (I apologize for the Full House references - I think that's my second. Although I'm sure some of you out there will appreciate them). So then I thought I'd do like A Day In The Life Of thing but that would get trite. Anyone that knows me knows that a day in my life is like a day in the Truman Show (pre-revelation), despite all the weird things that guy did in the bathroom. However, I do those things on the sidewalk in front of tens of people because I don't give a %&@$($#!! I'm tasting Dove tonight. Whatever. I imagine it's an acquired taste. So what's next for me to do? Retire? Hell no! I'm only 5. Plus I have followers. I can't let them down. Not now. After all seven blogs we've been through. So we're taking it to where the money's at. Pop culture. It worked for that bitch Perez Hilton (I think I actually used that correctly this time Mom). He'll probably comment on this now because he Google's himself four times a day. What's with that? I tried it the other day and searched through 100 pages of results and found nothing about me. Can you believe that?! I almost came to the conclusion that I don't even exist. Then I farted and realized that you have to exist to fart. Or vice-versa? It's the chicken and the egg thing. I'll eat both. Sorry for all the existential questions. Try to keep up though. Where was I? Right! Pop culture. From now on, dial it here for all your update-to-date, last minute, ground breaking, late breaking, by the moment, you heard it here first, pop culture news. First bit of ground breaking news -

Kanye West won the award for best female video at the VMAs.
Patrick Swayze will be starring in the Ghost sequel.
Megan Fox is not as dumb as rocks. No one is as dumb as rocks. It's simply impossible. She is dumb however.

That's it for now. Stay tuned!