Happy Bastille Day!

Bastille Day is one of my favorite holidays! I do like storming things. You know I like Le Tour so I thought I would celebrate some of my other favorite French things.

French Boo-Dogs!



Dogue De Bordeauxs!



Eclairs!



Les Bleus!



Napoleon! (He showed the world that you don't need long legs to be an emperor!)



And Le Wally

And here I am in black & white to express an appropriately French level of existential angst turning into generalized ennui. And also, the hunger. Perhaps for meaning but mostly for dinner.


Let's storm the Bastille! Let us eat cake!

Friday the 13th: Freaky Dog Edition

Warning, these photos may be terrifying to children, goddamn cats and those with weak stomaches. If you have a pacemaker, avert your eyes!

The Tongue Monster. She vants to sit in your lap!


The Roach. He will wiggle his way into your heart. And then eat it! Bwahaha!


Hey--be sure to get my good side.



Which is scarier? The dog eating the face or the ma ape's face?

Googlicious

I gave a tantalizing hint about some searches that have led weary Googlers to my website. I will tell you more:

1. "wally melon": This is the favorite summertime snack of the corgador. For your viewing pleasure, here is a picture of a wallymelon that a lady claims she sees the virgin mary in:

I made a VERY dirty joke about eating the Virgin Mary that made my ma ape blush and she says I cannot repeat it here.

2. "tom cruise house": I don't know Tom Cruise or where he lives or how large his closets are. (Thank you, I'll be here all day, tip your waitress!).

3. "Vets that can freeze dog semen in South Carolina." Um, I hope this is not ANOTHER Republican sex scandal. (Note: these are far dirtier than my wally melon joke; read at your own peril!)

4. "wally's butts": Yes, there have been the usual requests for "big ass" but apparently fans of My Humps wish to differentiate themselves from the connoisseurs of Large Donkeys. Then I was confused--my BUTTS? Isn't one enough? My ma ape suggested they were looking for Wally Butts, the Georgia football coach who became a part of first amendment legal history when his libel case made it to the Supreme Court. But then she stopped talking and I woke up.

So, here you go, searchers, an array of the rear view:

Tail down.


A slight upturn with wag.


And full-on curl.

Yes, I have a jaunty trot.

Forgiving Granny

So I was feeling bummed about my Granny maybe not loving me enough but clearly the dogosphere has my back and I have had dozens of offers of grannies. I do think, though, that Sherman is on to something here:

Ferndoggle said...

Obviously your granny needs to have her eyes checked. However, she may be right. Conan could have been the "cutest" dog ever. But cute is for bunnies, kittens & bald headed babies.

We're *handsome*...and you are definitely in a tie for the most handsomest dog in the whole universe.

Tell Granny she can keep her CUTE!

Sherman

Yes, Sherman. Conan is cute. Like bediapered babies. But cute gets you kissed by politicians and your cheeks pinched. No, Sherman and I belong in the MANLY category of HANDSOMESTEST. So I'm sure what my granny MEANT to say was that Conan is the all time cutest dog but I am a hunka manly handsome dog!

Here is a gallery to demonstrate the power of the Handsome:


The Shermanator:


And the manliest dog on the Internets, Tadpole:



(Pssst. Sherman--if we are manly handsome dudes does that mean my ma ape has to quit calling me "the sweetest sweet pea in the sweet pea patch" while she rubs my belly? Cuz I kind of like that.)

Update: My granny has since admitted that I am, in fact, cute. But I still want to be all manly and stuff, too. And it is nice to have back-up grannies, too.

Who's Down with BPP?

Yeah you know me! LOOK WHAT IKE SENT ME! He sent me the funniest, most awesome, most amazing card EVER. Can you see what we're doing? We're hunting BULL PIZZLE. Because we are BPP, bull pizzle pals. And you can't really tell but the cow's eyes are TOTALLY BIG because he is so afraid of us!

Thanks so much for the card! I do regret to say, however, that I think my ma ape may have died from a brain aneurysm caused by laughing too hard. It was totally worth it.

Public Letter to my Granny

Dear Granny,

I am forced you write you this Dear John letter. Well, I guess it is more of a Dear Granny letter but I digress. Earlier this week you left this comment on my blog:

Granny said...

No offense Wally, but the late, great Conan was the cutest dog ever.

Now, I understand you are motivated by the fact that Conan was certainly much cuter, more charismatic and absolutely much smarter than your other two children. Not to mention, as my friend Ike pointed out, he knew his way around eyeliner like the best 80s hair bands. However, you seem to fail to appreciate your grandson's one of a kind good looks.

Let me remind you of my charming and disarming mug:


I am also very polite and willing to eat anything that is offered to me and even some things that have not been offered but have been left on the counter, the table, or your plate.

Must I remind you of

1) How my exotic good looks often lead passers-by to ask "What IS that?"
2) My underprivileged background as a homeless orphan
3) My psychiatric disorders (also known as "being a mama's boy" and "co-dependence")
4) That I am so handsome people do Google searches for my butt (seriously--more on that later)

If you are not persuaded by reason let me remind you, in the immortal words of the philosopher Beyonce, don't you ever get to thinking you're irreplaceable. Earlier this week I had THIS in my comments:

Grammie said...

Wally:
You are both wise and wonderful!
Peanut and Flash's Grammie

Yes, my pals Peanut and Flash's Grammie stopped by to tell me I was wonderful. I was so honored I was blushing!

I have thrown down the gauntlet (or whatever the doggie equivalent would be since I doubt we could wear gauntlets on our paws). As an apology I will accept heaps of praise, belly rubs and, of course, edibles.

love,
Your best grandson, Wally

Watchin' the Tour

My sissy and I have been having a good time watch the Tour of the Pants on Vs., a network which is otherwise filled with dudes wailing on each other, I think.

My sissy lacks some understanding of the sport of cycling. In fact she lacks understanding of any sport that does not involve a ball.


Here I am howling for joy that Thor Hushovd won yesterday's stage. Why? I like the name Thor.

Newf Saves the World!

Move aside, Indestructible Cheerleader, Archie the Newf is in town! The LA Times has a nice story about Archie who works with abused and neglected kids in CA:

At Casa Pacifica, a Ventura County oasis for abused, neglected and emotionally disturbed children, patience and calm aren't just virtues; they're job requirements. Archie has worked at the leafy campus in Camarillo for two years, and he doesn't flinch when small hands pull his ears and wandering fingers poke his nostrils.

Instead, he bestows slobbery kisses with a pink tongue as large as a hand towel.

"Yucky!" the kids squeal, hugging the 165-pound dog all the harder.

My ma ape says I might need to get some of these:

A local quilting group has made 20 Newfoundland-size bibs, embroidered with Archie's name or phrases such as "World's Greatest Smoocher." He has a Valentine's bib and one for St. Patrick's Day. For the Casa Pacifica "prom," Archie wore a tuxedo bib with a boutonniere.

Whatever, she knows she loves my droolables.

Itchy-Ro!

Last night was the baseball All-Stars game (ask Joe Stains, he's the real fan) and my favorite baseball player (other than Sammy Sosa who may also be a showdog) is Itchy-ro Suzuki from the Seattle Moaners and last night he hit an IN PARK homerun because he's so fast and he was the MVP of the game!

And according to this picture he is also a tornado. And I'm not sure what kind of substances you have to inject or injest in order to turn into a weather phenomenon but I suspect they might be banned.

Here I am with my Itchy-ro rubber duckie! And I can confirm that in addition to being an excellent fielder, a reliable hitter, and a blistering fast dude, he does indeed walk on water.

Springfield, Nebraska.

The Simpsons movie did a contest on the USA Today (America's flagship newspaper) to determine which Springfield in America would be the location of the movie premiere. Springfield, VT won.

My ma ape wanted it to be Springfield Nebraska not only because SHE is from Nebraska but because her first dog, a corgi and the precursor to the CORGADOR, was from Springfield!

This is Conan the corgi:



This post was primarily an excuse for the ma ape to post a picture of Conan, I think. Yeah he's cute. Stir in a little lab and he'd be perfect, eh? Also he could lay off the eyeliner a bit.

Happy Burpday MAGGIE!

Happy Burpday to an Airefriend (but no airhead) Maggie! She is partying it up with her brother Mitch.

I like this picture because it has dogs on it including an Airedale but I was unsure about using it because inappropriate apostrophe usage drives me batty. I mean, battier than I already am. And Maggie's so smart I'm sure she'd notice.

So, Maggie, have a great burpday full of wonderful snacks, good friends, your lovely family, and no mis-used punctuation. Teach Mitch the 's comes after the e. As in MAGGIE'S!

Beauty AND truth

I always get so many comments about how PRETTY my sissy is. Oooh her long legs and big stinkin' nose. So here's a comparison, a beauty pageant if you will.

Here's my supposedly guapissima sissy:


And me. Can't you just see the wisdom in my eyes? Plus a profile that makes George Clooney green with envy.


It's all about the eyes.

Dogs on TV!

Last night I watched this show on Nature called Dogs Who Changed the World. Number of interviews with me? ZERO? Obviously a fraud. But the second half is on tonight so we'll see what they have to say about me. It has some interesting stuff like an interview with this Swedish dude who thinks all dogs originated in East Asia (no wonder I have so many friends in Singapore and Malaysia!) And the lame humans needed us to populate arctic areas. And to domesticate other animals like sheeps and goats. So we pretty much have kept the human race going. Wait--is that a good thing?

Here's a cool map where you can see where the oldest dog breeds are from. There's no corgador but that's because the map is the oldest breeds, not the ALL TIME GREATEST.

Too Hot, Send Frosty Paws

According to Weather.com we are hotter than FLORIDA and TEXAS (only AZ is beating us!). That's just not right.


I am making my scrunchy Too Hot face. It's ruining my good looks.

Here's my plan. 1) Make fruit smoosh. Recipe as follows. Ingredients: cherries, wallymelon, bananas, applesauce, raspberries, honey, pupaya. Get the ma ape to put these things into the fruit killer, grind thoroughly, pour into ice cube trays, freeze. 2) Beg for fruit smoosh by acting melodramatically hot and hungry 3) eat fruit smoosh as fast as possible 4) get ice cream headache 5) pass out from headache 6) sleep through the heat 7) wake the ma ape up when it is cooler at 3 a.m. wanting to play

So far I am at #3. I am eating them fast but not yet at pass-out speed. I need to work on this.

Free Advertisement

I am doing free advertising for the Simpsons movie while also finding new ways to waste my ma ape's time. We have made versions of ourselves as Simpsons characters (at the website for the movie--you too can waste away your life!) Sadly you cannot make Simpsons animals so we have to be bo-ring hoomans.

Here is Ethel with sporty pontytail and skinny enough to pull off white jeans.

This is me, can you tell? My ma ape says I should have Ralphie's body-type as well as his hair to which I say NOT FUNNY.
This is ma ape! She's mad at me because I implied she was short by using the "girl" body. She's lucky she doesn't look like Chief Wiggum.

Le Tour!

I've got my stopwatch out! Why? It's time for the Tour de Pants!


And I'm excited to follow it with my pal Bernard Hinault! One of the greatest Frenchies of all time. And, as you can see, he hangs out with skinny minnies like me with my skinny sissy. But we both know--you need loads of muscle! And a little chub to protect your muscles.

The storm before the calm

Warning--this is a sissy heavy post. You might turn green reading this one, too.

Yesterday the apes decided to try to wear us out before they left so we wouldn't behave like WILD ANIMALS while they were gone. This generally means letting me meander around while throwing the tennis ball to my sissy so she makes funny faces.

Like this one:


Here she is practicing walking on two legs.


When the tongue starts flapping you know she's getting tired.


Beware the teeth.


How does she avoid biting off her floppy tongue with those nasty teeth?


And she continued to embarrass me with her tenuous control over her own mouth.


Flip.


Flop.


And then this happened. I decided I wanted to play tennis ball even though I could care less about tennis balls or fetching. Sometimes a boy just wants a ball, ok?

So if you look the ball has been thrown to me and is bouncing just above my head. Sissy does not watch where she is going and...


BIFF!

My sissy heard a mouthful from me. And look who got the tennis ball!


All's well that end with Wally getting what he wants.


Ahhhhhhhhhh!