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.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

A Message From Pickle

First of all, f%*# you Joel.  My laptop is worth more than your LIFE.  I hope you had time to take a look around - there's porn on there you could NEVER understand.  I could turn you gay and back again with a few clicks of the mouse.  I have that power. 

Anyway, yes, you found a picture that says "Pickle 2012."  Bravo.  Now you know about my closet life as an amateur photoshop artist.  And despite what you think the picture implies, it means nothing.

And by nothing, I mean the end of days.


That's right, mother&#$*@#s.  Pickle 2012.  I am seeking the GOP nomination for President of the United States.  And if you don't like it, f$*# you.  You won't survive the first three weeks of my Administration, anyway.

Obama ran on a campaign of "Hope" and "Change."  "Hope" is for pussies.  "Change" is the bus fare I gave your mom after she tried cuddling with me last night.

My campaign will consist of you, voting for me, or else.


Get on board.  Or get to work on your Last Will and Testament.

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