Attacking Life with Comedic Jaws of Sarcasm. Recovering Dating & Relationship Blogger - Made it to Step 12 When I Got Married.

Month: July 2007

Duel To the Death

The two Michael Vick posts continue to generate comments. What this proves is that this is still such a serious and emotional issue that people can’t and won’t let go. Good. And they shouldn’t. I’m tired of the animals being forgotten about as this country moves on to the next newsworthy thing. May this Michael Vick news continue to trump Harry Potter, Lindsey Lohan’s imminent jail time and Posh and Becks moving to the states.

I don’t think you have to be an animal lover to acknowledge that what has gone on here is disgusting and that the perps need to be punished. I spent a mind numbing hour watching Nancy Grace discuss this topic Thursday night and of course someone compares this to the Kobe Bryant case. Good god people, can you be any stupider? A quick take at the facts:

1) Whatever happened in Bryant’s hotel room remains unknown. Did a crime occur there? Was the girl raped or was she just a starfucker? Who knows. Who cares really. You go up to a guy’s hotel room you dumb cunt, and you’re asking for it. Women’s rights advocates be damned.

2) Did a crime occur at the house of Michael Vick. Absofuckinglutely. There is NO QUESTION that a crime occurred. The question becomes, who is responsible and how will they be punished?

While I hate Nancy Grace for her dramatics and still owe her a letter from the “Velvet reminds you that two ugly people should not reproduce so why the fuck are you knocked up” file, she made a good point. One of the guys indicted will no doubt turn on the rest and rat out. There is no honor among thieves.

Now, all that said, has anyone ever seen a dog fight? Not necessarily the ones that go on in the underground here in D.C. or Baltimore (yes, they do, get your head out of your ass) but just any dog fight anywhere? I have. I’ve been in the middle of one so bad I had blood all over me. But, I had to save my little Thora, who was attacked by a mixed breed aggressive dog with a spotty history. Fight details in a minute.

There is no such thing as a bad dog. Do you all get that? It is worth repeating. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A BAD DOG. There are only bad owners. Write it down, make it your screensaver and tattoo it on your forehead. When a puppy is born, he has the same chance as any other dog to become aggressive or submissive, a good housepet or a good guard dog, depending on the environment. Dogs are products of their environment because that is all they know. Keep a dog separated from people and other animals and don’t socialize it? It will be shy or aggressive. Beat the dog, tie it up outside with no food or water? Food aggression. Train it to fight and it becomes a fighter. Take it into your home, love it, feed it and make it part of your family and it will be a great dog. Got it? But that defense only applies to dogs. Not people. So stop saying “Michael Vick is a product of his environment.” He has a brain, and he’s an adult, and he made these decisions his own damn self.

All right. So the fight. A few months back Thora is laying in the grass (but on a leash) at my friend’s apartment complex in Phoenix and a dog gets out of its leash and jumps on her. What happens next is a 10 minute, grueling dog fight that just won’t fucking stop. I got on top of the other dog and grabbed it from around the neck. Its owner is yelling (from 10 feet away mind you) to pull my dog by the leash to separate them. Bitch, your dog’s teeth are THROUGH THORA’s fucking forehead. How am I going to do that without hurting my dog? There really was no breaking this up – not without two people. Until my 9 month pregnant friend heard the commotion and came running out to help me, this fight was not going to end.

All of us covered in blood, my friend, Thora and I went back to her house to clean her up. Her ear was almost torn off, and she had cuts on her head and neck. She winced in pain for several days and we couldn’t get a collar around her neck. Dog fights can be vicious, and you can’t reason with a dog to stop fighting. They don’t understand that.

Sidenote for what I learned during all this: The proper way to treat dog bites both on humans and on dogs is surprisingly to not stitch them up. It is very important to let the infection drain.

The proper way to break up a dog fight requires two people. I was wrong to grab that other dog in a choke hold because it could have bitten me, but without the other owner helping me, and with Thora in peril, I just couldn’t think of anything but my baby. The real way to break a fight, if you see one, is for each person to grab the hind legs of one of the dogs and pulls them apart until they can no longer engage in the fight due to the lack of mobility. Turn the dogs 180 degrees in a semi circle away from the other dog so each is facing the opposite way. Leash them up or otherwise restrain them until you can get them completely separated.

To repeat that dogs are true reflections of their environments is an understatement. Thora was losing that fight and she wasn’t giving up. Thora also doesn’t start fights, but if she ends up in them, she goes for the count. Exactly like her mama.

Thora on right.

Back to Vick. To blame this on pit bulls being a “bad and aggressive” breed is just naive. These dogs are not aggressive by nature. No dog is. It is how they are treated which makes them aggressive. To make this an issue of race, also stupid. People! Stop crying the race card for christsakes. It’s getting fucking old already.

At the Washington Humane Society, you cannot adopt a pit bull. The Pits that are picked up off the street must wait 7 days for an owner to reclaim them, then are destroyed. This is an outrage. It isn’t just the the fact that Vick allegedly had this dogfighting ring, he was also a breeder! A fucking breeder! This man was forcing dogs to breed, not spaying or neutering them, and sending them to a life of violence. Apparently his “breeder’s card” was revoked. Whatever. Like anyone needs a license to breed dogs. Breeding dogs is irresponsible people, so fix your fucking pets and stop with this crap about “oh he’s so cute, let’s let him have babies.” Vick’s former website, mv9kennels.com, is now down. Yeah. Like he wasn’t up to something illegal…

An animal that has a miserable life and a torturous death is an animal who came in contact with the wrong human being. There are no bad dogs. Only bad owners.

These Vagabond Shoes

You all are probably familiar with the I heart NY shirts. There was even a song that went along with this slogan. A very, very bad song on all the New York television stations in the 70’s. IIIIIIIIIII love New Yorrrrrrrrrrrrk. Oh hell. Now I have several commercials from the 70’s going through my head like that stupid Flemington Furs in NJ where they follow the lady down the street and the Pocono’s commercial…”winter spring summer or fall!” Okay, off topic.

So here it is. The logo we all know.

I assumed that New York was the first to make this slogan. New York is always the first to do anything. Anyway, seems I was right.

Recently, I started seeing the same shirts for D.C. I find it hard to love D.C. so it is comical to me that someone would actually put this on a t-shirt. It’s like putting “I love a swampy shithole filled with lying politicians and a sub-par public transportation system” on a t-shirt, but whatever. There’s a guy with a Ben’s Chili Bowl tattoo in my neighborhood, I suppose everyone has their vice. Anyway, suddenly I am seeing people all over town wearing these shirts. Not just any people though.

You would expect to see this on a tourist, right? A tourist walking next to another tourist wearing the FBI (Female Body Inspector) shirt. Hardy har har. But there are very few tourists in my ‘hood or any of the ‘hoods in which I hang.

Here’s the offending apparel by the way:

So who is wearing them? Homeless people. HOMELESS PEOPLE!

Okay, what is going on? Seriously. Are they being handed out at the area shelters? Does anyone see how this might be a cruel twist of philanthropy – having a homeless person wear a shirt announcing their “love” of a city they are ill equipped to leave; declaring love for a city that has disappointed them in so many ways; proclaiming their supposed attachment to a city that has chewed them up and spit them out, into the gutters of the soon to be unplowed snowy streets. Thanks Fenty! You’re a real workhorse! Sorry, off topic again.

Whoever handed these shirts out is either an idiot or has a sense of humor more fucked than mine. Can you imagine that meeting where this gem of an idea was hatched?

Douchebag Number 1: Gee, let’s make a bunch of ‘I love D.C.’ shirts and give them to the most captive audience we know have – the homeless.

Douchebag Number 2: Oh, Douchebag 1, you are so smart. There certainly are a lot of homeless people here. They will be happy to have a clean, new shirt. The swamp city simultaneously gets some free advertising during peak tourist time. Ingenious!

Douchebag Number 3: Yes! Using people who wander the streets all day instead of paying for advertising. Walking billboards! It’s like subliminal advertising, soon everyone will be wearing the shirts!

Douchebag’s Boss: You’re getting a payraise Douchebag 1! For the millions you saved us in advertising I’m going to give you 1/10 of 1 pay grade raise.

Douchebag 1: That’s four dollars a year! Thank you! I might be able to move closer to the city now. My commute from West Vagina is hard!

I personally want to make a shirt that says “I heart D.C. Cops.” Then I want to wipe my ass with it. Oh. Sorry. Off topic again.

Most cities, err, most normal cities try to minimize the undesirables by pretending they don’t exist. Here? Oh, hell no. We’re just pompous enough to not only use our undesirables, but to put them in the brightest yellow shirts anyone can find. I think that is a much better tourist draw anyway. Now we just need a new slogan.

“The District of Columbia, we’re so wonderful even the bums won’t leave!”

Fuck You Michael Vick. I Hope You Die, Part Deux

First, my homestate is the best. I love you Connecticut, for being all progressive. Though, I’ll never move back. Sorry about that. I gots too many tattoos and you gots too many yuppies and nouveaux riche.

So, Peta sent me an email. They said, “Thanks Velvet for your support. Because of your action and those of more than 263,000 others who contacted the NFL through our campaign, the league yesterday ordered Vick to stay out of training camp.”

Good. But Peta wants us to do more.

The Humane Society is demanding he be dropped by Nike. Sign the petition! I have to agree. As a runner, I already pay too much money for sneakers. I don’t want the extra money I pay to go to this slimebucket piece of shit, trashy motherfucker.

Just a hint: You only need provide first and last name and email address. So, let’s say for instance that Sammy and Thora had their own email address…well, they can sign the petition too. So they did.

I Don’t Need You to Worry For Me Because I’m Allllll Right

*I am still trying to get the lady who was accosted at the dog park to come out of her house and give me the names of D.C.’s worst cops. I have not forgotten.*

So, I had a typical “old-school” Velvet kind of week and weekend. But in the spirit of not venturing down the personal lane ever again, I’ll leave it at this handy recap:

Punches thrown: 2

Vacations Planned: 3

Vacations Booked: 1

Number of dogs in my condo: 6

People who told me I was their soulmate: 1

Times 911 was called: 1

Times 911 asked me to repeat my story: 2

Times 911 called back and asked me to repeat story again: 1

Number of colors the witnesses reported the perp’s shirt as being: 4

Number of times my stuff has been demanded back from the hostage taker: 3

Number of times hostage taker has refused, using the same excuse used in all other situations where stuff is being held hostage: 3

Times I thought about putting hostage taker’s balls in a vice grip: 114

Time in the sun: 6 hours

Time at the bar: 5 hours

Possible gunshots fired: 2

Times jaw dropped to floor: 2. Once when I learned I was the subject of a rumor so delicious that even I don’t care to deny it and once I bumped into someone who I thought I might never see again.

Hours spent embroiled in newest brewing scandal: 6

Obnoxious strangers who disrespected me and then felt my wrath: 2. One picked up her dog and completely left the dog beach, the other took his strollers and multiple children and hopefully went back to the suburbs. There is a third if you count the bitch from the week before who I called a “dumb cunt” when she accosted me in front of 20 people to accuse me of abusing my dogs. I didn’t know that tying them outside the post office while I went in to mail a package qualified for abuse. Thankfully she invaded both my space and didn’t mind her business to tell me.

Times my life came 359 degrees, shocking me so much I landed in a cab, flying across town to complete the final degree: 1. And it was worth every minute.

D.C. Cops Suck Ass Part 8 – Didn’t You Miss This?

Tuesday night, dog park in Dupont Circle.

A lady we all know is standing with her dog by herself in the dog park. The rest of us had just recently left. The dog is a tiny little dog like Toto, a Cairn or Norwich Terrier. Two cops, both black, male and female, approach her in the park. They start off by telling her that her dog should be on a leash.

While she speaks fluent English, it is obvious that it is not her first language. She is actually Iranian. She responds that this is a dog park and everyone lets their dogs off leash here. They ignore her response, and write her a ticket. Then, they start to ask her if she has identification or a green card. They then ask her if she’s even legal and say that she doesn’t belong in this country, finally calling her a terrorist. Within minutes, they take the leash from her and say that she is being arrested and her dog will be picked up by Animal Control. They put her in the back of the car, continuing to harass her until a witness sees and asks them to leave her alone. They end up letting her go, completely in tears, and totally distraught.

She calls the police department on V Street and wants to file a complaint. She gets some facial expression and a few words from the officer on duty that leads her to believe these two officers have done things like this before. I’m sorry, why am I paying their salaries with my tax dollars then?
She has their names. Last night at the dog park she was still in tears, hysterically crying and shaking over what happened to her. When and if I get the names of these two useless incompetent motherfuckers, they are going on this blog. Over and over and over until they are in every google search from here to Timbuktu.

My witchhunt begins. I’ll get those names, publish them here, and demand their badges.

How Much is That Dog in the Window?

Sammy might be the most narcissistic dog in the world. He does love himself. I’ve known this for some time. I regularly catch him staring at himself in the mirror.

“Hot damn you are a hot doggie! Wanna makeout?”

My friend rescues dogs. Every time I go to her house, I never know what kind or how many dogs I will find there. This time, Sammy bonded with one of her 8 dogs.

 

Sammy is on the left. His new girlfriend Annie is on the right. They stayed on the deck the entire time, just staring, waiting for something to move in the woods so they could go kill it. This is true love I think.

 

Want to know what Annie’s face looks like? I know you can’t wait.

You can’t tell the difference really, except that my dog is the one who is always eating. He gets that from his grandpa (my dad) and his own dad (my ex.)

How did I know that if my narcissistic dog ever found a girlfriend, she would look just like him?

 

 

 

 

 

 

© 2024 Velvet in Dupont

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑