When Sarah (the Asshole) takes me out for a walk or to the pet store or whatever, people are always asking her what kind of dog I am. Like the asshole that she is, Sarah always says, "Oh, she's just a mutt."
First, asshole, I am not "just" anything. I am 15 pounds of awesomeness and cuteness, and there is no need for any sort of qualifier on that.
Second, and more importantly, the correct term for my breed is not mutt, it's Mon Grel. Calling me a mutt just makes me sound like a bitch who doesn't aspire to something better out of life. And here's a newsflash for you, Sarah. You're a mutt, too. You just call yourself an American to make it sound better. If you're going to come up with a flowery lie about your own ancestry and blow smoke up your own asshole, the least you can do is grant me the same chance.
Got it? Next time, Mon Grel. I'll be listening.
Am I on the Train?
2 weeks ago