Tuesday Caption Contest

Hey guys, if you’re here to sexy dance for me go ahead and get it over with already… I’ll throw in some of the mysterious ass moves I’ve been working on…

anda 1, anda 2, anda 1 2 3…

[photo courtesy of telegraph.co.uk]

Gone fishing…

To the loyal rambler canines – get to work.

http://www.metacafe.com/watch/2931446/fishing_dog/

Hey Timber and Lucky… check this out… now there’s never a reason to leave us at home again http://petairways.com/

Help find Molly.

Molly was kidnapped from the Whole Foods at 14th and P.

Go here for all the details.

FYI: This post is going to be tacked to the front page for the time being.

What’s in a name?

Apparently, a lot.

I thought I had lived up to my handle when I tumbled down a measly 150-year old staircase and walked away from it.  But you, man…you out-did me in a big way. Truth be told, it hasn’t exactly been détente between me and your kind in the past (see the afore-linked post), but I gotta say…respect.

You might be a pussy…but you ain’t no pussy. You feel me?

I’m starting to wonder: does this name of ours act like some sort of animal kingdom version of Groundhog Day? Are we immortal? I’m gonna look into this and get back to you. We might be onto something here.

When animals are attacked.

Jeebus, boy. Always watch your six! You’re making us look bad.

Excellent commentary by the way:

[DCist]

I have a dream…

I’m standing in an open meadow. Sniffing the grass. Spraying the trees. Searching for a suitable place to bang one out. When all of a sudden, a big-ass doberman is full sprint towards me. I’m like, “DAMN”! And I start leggin’ it. I mean I’m GONE. But that dude is still on my ass!

So I turn on the afterburners. PWWWHHHOOOOOOOHHHH. Now I’m really moving. With each stride I stretch farther (and further). I didn’t even know I had it in me. Smoke trails. I look back, he’s still gaining. How is that possible? He starts nipping at my tail. Now he’s got a paw up on me. I begin to slow. Has he got me? The horror! The only thing more moist than the sweat on my furry brow is the frothy saliva of the rabid predator that has begun to coat my lower extremities.

And then the warmth. It’s all beginning to close in on me. In my last breath, I bid farewell to this cruel, cruel world and all my bitches. My sweet bitches.

Then I am stirred. For it was all chimera. And I am back on the couch.

I have a dream. This dream. About three times a day. Here’s what actually happens:

My paws twitch a couple times. My upper lip trembles. I emit a barely-audible whimper. Deporter snickers and I wake. I look up, yawn, and then I lick my hollow scrote. No big whoop. For others, it’s all too real…

Easy, spaz.

Weak.

Cum’on bro. Can’t you see she’s using an old Jedi mind trick? Here’s hoping you don’t ever get assigned to a sentry post at Mos Isley.

EDIT: Looks like E! has disabled embedding of this video. Assholes. Just click here.

Giving back – A Ramble PSA

Ed. note: Due to the recent explosion in readership, the Ramble is now required by the FCC to regularly provide education to the public on health issues of national importance. The following is the first installment.

—-

Canine narcotrafficking in this country is really getting out of hand. It’s eating away at our society. My four-legged friends, if another dog offers you goof balls, just say no. Unless you can score a few for me. This looks like fun.

 

Respect.

Let me be clear. I’ve only met Jessica once. Back in ‘06, Mylephnt and E brought me over to the Dude’s old place, where she was living upstairs with the his landlord. Yeah, we hung out for a few seconds. I sniffed her junk, she gave mine a bit of the “How’s your father”. But I didn’t really get to know her. She seemed kinda old and stuck up if you ask me. Not my type. I like ‘em young.

But when it comes to messing with his Dudeness only hours into his dogsitting mission…I gotta say…I dig the technique. We really should compare notes sometime.

Kudos. And kudos again.

Victimized at a medium pace.

Talk about having your night ruined. You’re just sitting at home, minding your own business, rubbing one out. And then Jack Horner bursts in and totally throws off your chakra. If that wasn’t bad enough, he kills your dog on his way out. One last “fuck you” from the guerrilla filmmaker.

Jesus. First of all, how was the guy able to take the time to feed shrooms to the dog? Why wasn’t the victim beating this guy down with all his nudeness? Second, why did he feel it necessary to report exactly what he was doing at the time? Third, who the hell wrote this, the editor’s five-year old son? And finally…WTF????

A quick search on the ohio.com website didn’t turn up the original snippet, but it did bring back some other interesting results. Something tells me there’s alot of gems in there:

Domestic disputes: A Frost Road man called 911 June 26 to report that his wife was being disrespectful. He told police she was drinking a beer while cooking his dinner. Because she was over 21, he was advised that she could drink a beer. Police also warned him about misusing 911.

h/t to my friend Harrison for sending me this.

This just in…

I might soil the rug from time to time, but I’m like 50 times smarter than all you crackers. Read about it.

I have a delicate system, okay???

Look. I never said I was perfect. Yeah, I’m a pretty cool dog, I suppose. I’ve tagged along with Mylephnt to a few Panic shows, some mountain climbing, a few camping trips in the pacific northwest. I’ve even been to the Ramble. No, not this lame ass website all you lilly-white yuppies frequent. I’m talking about the real Ramble. I’m talking Levon. And no, I didn’t actually make it into the show, thank you very much. I sat my hairy ass out in the minivan for three hours while everyone else was inside getting drunk on bourbon ‘n cokes and listening to some good music. But did I complain? No. I took it like a man. I even kept el Duderino company when he came out to take a break from the show. Not really sure what that was about. Something about the piano player getting douched with a cup of Evan Williams. Doesn’t matter. Anyway…