Hi guys!! My name is Stephanie! I am totally psyched about my first blog! I am 24 and I live in a teeny tiny apartment with my boyfriend, Bubs, my yellow lab, Dui (pronounced like the character in Malcom In The Middle, 'Dewey' but we spell it like that because it's the only one we want to get....wait for it....wait...ohhhh nowwwwww you get it) and my two cats, Frankie, and Lola. I work at an advertising agency and I have started this blog as a daily journal to figure out who it is I really am...I knew a couple years ago, and I guess I forgot...plus all my coworkers and older realitives are starting to join Facebook, so I needed to go into hiding. I totally love horses and pie and painting my nails and all that shit*. Oh gaaaad....CHEESEFEST.
*Some of the previously stated items are half truths.
Bubs and Dui: My boys! Bubba (not his real name, but this is bloggersville, so we can be whoever we want...oh and sidenote, Tepanie is what he calls me. Isn't it magical we have names for eachother?) is my BF. We have been goin steady for about 2 1/2 years now. Dui is 19 months old. And has done significant damage to all that has come in his path.
In fact I could write Marley And Me II on just the stuff he has eaten alone. Shoot, let me share with you a couple things his steel stomach has digested:
Car Coolant: Yeah he was dumb enough to destroy the plastic bottle, but smart enough to not drink the stuff.
Multiple undergarmets, mostly my thongs, but some socks for good measure: The gnarly thing was that he would puke or poop them out, and low and behold, right on my Mother's coffee table, My bright red Victoria's Secret G-String was for all to see.
A Bathroom Wall: Yep all the way down to the studs!
I mean this is a given with any puppy, but my shoes. Only the newest, most expensive ones of course.
A tub of Vasoline. The pads of idiot's paws get really abrasive and dry in the winter, so we apply a hearty layer of Vasoline on them before we take him out. Turned into his dinner the next day.
The first month we moved into our shiny new apartment, he got into somethin and had explosive diarreha. That was pretty sweet. No sleep for us for a couple days. Good thing we live on the third floor, we just created a pully system, so everytime he looked a little shifty (or shitty) we would just ease him on down to the back yard. Yeah right and gullible is written on the ceiling.
The interior of my car. Every seatbelt, a massive chunk of my steering wheel--yeah down to the metal, all the floor mats, and I think he started digging a hole in one of the side panels. Hey at least he had his escape route thought out.
Just recently, today, he found a dead bird carcass a hawk must have dropped, and snacked on that for a little pre dinner protein. Cause you know how good bird bones are for dogs.
Do you see what I'm getting at here? I could go on for quite some time. There are things he is good at: He can balance anything on his nose and sit there for hours.
He can retrieve stuff:
He can be your best friend*:
The Boy, Boy, Idiot, IdiotBoy, Kiddo, Kiddo Beans, Beansie, Captain Pee Pants, Numb Nuts, Dubie, Big Dumb Idiot, Doozer, and Little Boy Blue.*
*More names added weekly depending on what he eats/fucks up.
How Could Something This Cute Be The Devil's Spawn?