Well, hello there *hic* friends and countrymen.
It's no secret that the weather here in New England and other remote parts of the country has been sucking eggs.
It has left me with some serious cabin fever. I find myself spending more and more time down in the club sipping martinis and playing solitaire to pass the time.
So, I got to thinkin' about this Wilma, and her "wisdom". Then I read Daisy's post revealing a side of Pearl that we really didn't know about.
So I says to myself, "Self, you know a thing or two about Wilma that the whole world may find surprising".
After slinging back a few, I got the cojone's to go ahead and hijack the blog. Why not? It's just me and a big old computer down here.
I pretty much had a choice between dropping a random deuce, or hacking into Wilma's account. I chose the latter. Besides, I'm ten, I really don't give a crap what anybody thinks, says, does, or feels anymore.
So here's the dish... Wil would love to have you believe that she is the Oprah Winfrey of pug dogs. The wise, all knowing diva with a heart of gold. Truth be told, Wilma has the ability to be a real jerk sometimes.
Take this past weekend for example. I don't have any photographic evidence, but why would I lie?
We went for a visit to our Great Grammy Mary's house. We hadn't seen her in a while and were very excited when we got there. Once we settled in, Sluggo and I made it a point to spend some quality time with Gram Mary.
Do you think Wilma had the good graces to go over and say hello? The answer is no!
She was too busy demanding ham from Uncle Jimmy. She just stood there and yelled. For God's sake, Uncle George couldn't even go into the kitchen to fix a pot of tea without Wilma following at his heels, scrapping for a treat.
Normally I wouldn't mind her putting on the pressure, because, let's face it. We all benefit when the plate of ham comes out. But, she was such a pest, she ruined it for everyone. Mom and Dad wouldn't let them give us anything!
So unfair.
You would think she would have learned a lesson from her actions, but noooooooo.....
Can you believe, as we were getting ready to leave, I heard her mutter something about not leaving without something besides the cat food in the back yard she snarfed down when we went out for business.
So, you know what she did?!
While everyone was saying their goodbyes, and giving kisses all around, she snuck off into the kitchen, broke into the cupboard, dragged out the cat's kibble and started tearing into the bag.
Unbelievable.
So there you *hic* have it. The *hic* plain truth about Wilma.
Someone had to tell it.
"Say, looks like we are running low on whippy flavored vodka."*
*Please note, no pugs were harmed in the writing of this post. All liquor bottle contents have been replaced with flavored water for the safety of all involved.
