You may have heard, but I’m now a Boston pug.
I’m living in the Back Bay. I love it. Our place is awesome and I’m only a block away from Comm Ave. There’s more dog piss on that street than anywhere on the planet. I’m competing with so many dogs I can’t keep the scents apart… I’m just lifting a leg every two feet.
I’m psyched to spend a bunch of time in Manchester-by-the-Sea and up at Lake Winnipesaukee. This winter should be awesome. AND… Good riddance to the 6 hour cross-country flight between Seattle and Boston. Cars only going forward.
If you’re ever in the Back Bay, check for me on Twitter. I’ll be around, pissing and stuff. @bifflicous
My parents got married and I stole the show! I got to walk down the aisle, stand with the bridesmaids during the ceremony and take some pictures on the rocks. We haven’t received all the pictures yet, but here’s a few teasers. More coming soon!!
Where to begin… I just blasted Gilford NH with my style and grace. I was up there for the weekend and Boom!! The place will never be the same again.
Hot dog!!! Check this out. I just got a collar with my name spelled out in nautical flags. Hope the yacht club will take me this year…
Other sweet treats: an awesome dog feeder, a pillow with mon visage on it, a corn on the cob toy and a pug cake topper made of frosting. Score!!
I’m 3 years old today, chillin by the ocean in Manchester, MA and strutting my stuff. Ready for a weekend with the grand parents. Check out my best zoolander.
In a tragic twist of events, my big brother Bruno passed away today. I’m terribly sad right now and don’t know how to express my feelings, but I miss you already Bruno…
After a long break, I’m back to blogging. Why, because I can…
I did something bad today. Really bad. I broke into a bag of Newman O’s and ate myself silly. All in all, I probably ate half a bag of the delicious cookies. True, I shouldn’t eat chocolate and I’m now running around like a cat on speed. I may barf all over the apartment. But, as it says on the bag:
You might, m’lady tweak my nose. You could, m’lord step on my toes. But Heaven help those pore bozos, who try to filch my Newman-O’s.