You know what's more common than Kim Kardashian texting me for a booty call? Two bitches fighting over who who gets to have breakfast with me after a three-way. But seriously, Kim loves me. I guess I'm her type (black and freakishly athletic).
My Dog, The Jerk
Hi, I'm Corey, and this is my roommate, Joel. Say hi, Joel. Hi. I have a dog, Pickle, a 3 year old Shiba Inu. For the past 3 years, I've been struggling with Pickle's various (and numerous) quirks - basically, he's an undersocialized, panophobic spaz with ADD, OCD and ED (he's neutered, after all). The ladies love him because he's perhaps the least threatening dog ever. Guys love him, well, because the ladies love him. Until recently, this paragraph would have thoroughly summarized all that is Pickle.
Then, Joel and I found out there is much more to Pickle than we ever could have imagined. See, we can't be around at all times to keep an eye on him. We always assumed he just lounged around the apartment all day, napping and licking his nether-regions. We couldn't have been more wrong.
The truth: My dog, Pickle, is an insufferable, conniving, degenerate, spiteful, gambling-drinking-sex-drug-thrill-addicted jerk.
This blog is a catalog of the photographic evidence of Pickle's path of destruction. If you have a dog who is similarly wreaking havoc on the world like a canine Charlie Sheen freebasing cocaine, please send us your photos, and know that you're not alone.