Yo. S'up peeps. Yeah, the diet hell has commenced. Last week my human loaded me into the transportation device and we ended up at some stinky joint full of sick dogs. I think they call it the V.E.T. because it stands for Voracious Embalming Techniques, although I may stand to be corrected. Anyhoo, so they weighed me and all. Like. Sooooo embarrassment. I had to stand up there like one of those fatties on the biggest loser weigh ins. When the nursebot announced my weigh in at 6.3 kilos I was a little dismayed. I decided to play the game, and look slightly emotional. I thought I could go the tack of blaming it on my emtionally f**ked childhood, but decided it was better to go with *blame* techniques. So the diet has begun. I'll get back to you on all the details schmetails some other day, *Yawn* Gotta get back to those zzzzs. Catch.
3 comments:
Hey Issie,
I think you’re gorgeous just the way you are. Don’t let those that meanie owner turn you into something your not. Stand up for your snacks.
FatCat.
oooh, fatcat! you are so on the money. I need to come up with some winning strategies for getting second breakfast. any hints would be most appreciated.
Hey Hissabel,
You might like to try climbing in the rubbish bin and eating any organic matter left lying around. Not only will you put on weight but yo' stupid owner will get so pissed off at you that she'll give you food all the time.
Worked for me.
Love,
Stella
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