Tuesday, November 29, 2005

My life: Interlude for revenge

Previous installments of this autobiographical series are available in the right-hand rail, under the heading "Mugsy's Biography."

Chapter IX
As I waited at the run-down auto salvage yard, I thought back to the events that had led me there. Earlier that evening, I had been nervously pacing in my living room. The jury was deliberating my fate, and my defense team, friends and relatives were all nearby. As I paced, one thought kept gnawing at me. If I were to get a life sentence in the pound – a distinct possibility given the serious panty-larceny charges against me – I would have one great regret: I had never avenged my betrayal at the hands of Juan Carlos Galvez.
His treachery a year earlier had left my knee shattered, my head imprisoned for weeks in that damn cone. As I left the house that evening, my attorney Johnnie Cochran ran after me. "It’s too risky, Mugsy!" he cried. "You can’t do this!" "Sorry, Johnnie," I replied. "It’s payback time."

I was soon at a farm in Wylie, the town of my birth, where I met with an old family friend. I handed him a wad of cash, and he handed me the keys to a pickup truck. The attached trailer was filled to the brim with wooden crates. My second stop was an industrial park in East Dallas. The sky was pitch black as a crew of nervous workers loaded my pickup with the second ingredient in my vengeful brew. Their boss, a shady character with darting eyes, opened the briefcase and began to count the unmarked bills inside. "Five-hundred, six-hundred …" he muttered as he examined each bill under the blue glow of a bug zapper. "All right, Mugs, it’s all here," he said. "You sure you wanna do this?" I simply nodded.

That brought me to this grimy auto yard in Oak Cliff. The trap was set; now I could only wait for my prey. It wouldn't be long. The rumble of the gate inching open roused me from my reflection. A black Mercedes convertible entered the salvage yard. It was time for Galvez to meet his gruesome fate.

To be continued

Monday, November 28, 2005

News we can use

Fox News claims to offer "fair and balanced" coverage. But do you ever hear about the burgeoning fundamentalist Islamic canine movement on Fox? Does Fox News report on the plight of disenfranchised dogs? No. There is no balance. And make no mistake; Fox is not alone. You will not hear CNN reporting on the many charitable activities of Pug Life Ministries. Nor will you see a story on MSNBC or ABC News about a charismatic pug ayatollah's mystical healing abilities. The New York Times has never called to request an interview with me, and even the local media outlets have ignored the meteoric rise of pug nationalism. Clearly, these news organizations are not serving the interests of their customers. They are instead letting their anti-dog biases shine through. "If we ignore this growing canine movement," they reason, "it will fizzle out." But let me tell you, my faithful flock, Pug Life is like a snowball roaring down a mountain. We are gaining followers with each passing day. And we must turn to media outlets that recognize this sea change in the American way of life. So I would like to direct you to the news page on ObeyThePureBreed.com. Scroll down a bit, and you'll see what I'm talking about. This news truly is fair and balanced.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

7 things

Pug Life follower Leslee at Fresh-Cut Flowers has tagged me to do this. As pyramid schemes go, it seemed harmless enough, so I'll play along.

Seven things I want to do before I die:

  • Gain enormous wealth
  • Use it to build the Dogloo compound
  • See the world
  • Write a book
  • Establish an autonomous pug homeland under my authoritarian rule
  • Erect giant monuments to myself in every city of the pug empire
  • Retire to my harem

Seven things I cannot do:

  • Vote
  • Dunk a basketball
  • Turn a door knob
  • Understand advanced calculus
  • Understand cats
  • Bench press (my legs don't bend that way)
  • Resist the temptation of rawhide

Seven things that attract me to the ladies of my harem:

  • Their silky-smooth fur
  • Their sexy barks
  • Those puppy dog eyes
  • Their compassion
  • The aroma of their hindquarters
  • Their cooking ability
  • Their undying devotion to me

Seven things I say most often:

  • God willing
  • Peace be upon you
  • Rawhide
  • Milkbone
  • Donate
  • Harem
  • Ruff

Seven books or authors I love:

  • The Quran
  • Mark Twain
  • The Satanic Verses (favorite for burning)
  • Mario Puzo
  • Bootlegger's Boy by Barry Switzer
  • Our Dumb Century by The Onion
  • George Orwell

Seven movies I watch over and over again:

  • The Adventures of Milo and Otis
  • Airplane!
  • Training Day
  • Ocean's Eleven
  • Full Metal Jacket
  • Spies Like Us
  • That movie with Jay Leno and Mr. Miyagi

Seven people or dogs I want to join in, too:

  • The first seven who read this and haven't already made a list

Thursday, November 24, 2005

What I am thankful for

On this Thanksgiving Day, I would like to share with you some of the blessings for which I am most thankful:

  • I am thankful for the 60 seconds a day -- 30 in the morning and 30 in the evening -- when I can savor my daily meals. I enjoy the texture of each individual piece of Eukanuba, the sublime sensations of flavor escaping every last morsel.
  • I am thankful for the readers of this blog who take the time to share their comments. And I am also thankful for those who stop by to soak up the pug knowledge but never let their presence be known. Perhaps at some point, Allah will move them to join in the discussion.
  • I am thankful that Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson have split up, opening the doggy door for the first human female to join my harem. Resistance is futile, Jessie.
  • I am thankful for those delectable yet dangerous turkeys. Americans are expected to eat 525 million pounds of turkey on this holiday. And yet I worry about the threat of avian flu. By eating all this turkey, are the humans exposing themselves to the virus? My offer still stands: You may send me your poultry. God willing, I will single-pawedly eliminate this menace.
  • And finally, I am thankful that the enemies of Pug Life Ministries are being systematically vanquished. These threats to the pug way of life must fall in line or face the consequences, like Blue Bull. Remember: If you're not with us, you're against us. Take that to heart, Mohamed ElBaradei. I would hate to have to leave you hanging from a banana hook.

May you all have a safe and happy Thanksgiving.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

You say you want a revolution?

I was lying on the floor near our window overlooking the creek, soaking up the sun. It was a rare moment of calm in the busy life of an international canine religious icon. I stretched out slowly, my legs shaking with satisfaction as I let out a big yawn. My gaze turned to the yard outside. I felt such contentment that I didn't even bother to bark at the passing ducks. As my eyelids grew heavy and I laid my head back on the soft rug once again, I heard something from the other room.

"Mugsy!" my mother exclaimed. "It's time for revolution!" I sprang to my feet and ran a quick circle before bounding toward the living room, adrenaline coursing through my veins. "Yes!" I thought. "Today is the day for revolution! We shall overthrow this human-dominated government. We shall install pugs and terriers and bulldogs in positions of power. We shall make the humans wear leashes for a change." I rounded the corner, running in place for a moment as my paws sought traction on the tile floor. "Yes, Mother," I barked, "it is time for revolution! Summon my followers. We shall convene at the mosque in 15 minutes." But then she grabbed me by the collar and held a small bottle between my shoulder blades. "There you go, Mugsy," she said." There's your
Revolution. Now you won't have any fleas."

I was left with nothing but a tuft of spiky fur on my back. Why must I fall for this ruse every single month?

Sam: 1990-2005

Sam, the champion of ugliest dog contests who was featured on this blog in July, has died. The Chinese crested became an international celebrity after winning the ugliest animal contest at the 2003 Sonoma-Marin Fair in California -- a victory he twice repeated. Our prayers are with Sam's caretaker and his siblings. As they undoubtedly know, there is more to a beloved dog than a pretty face.

Monday, November 21, 2005

Just in time for the holidays

Pug Row Records has released a digitally remastered deluxe edition of my landmark gangsta rap classic Tha Doggfather. In addition to its astounding nine No. 1 hits, this deluxe edition includes three previously unreleased bonus tracks: Mo' Rawhide, Mo' Problems; Lick the Police; and Get Panties or Die Tryin'. This album would make an excellent stocking stuffer for your significant other or your young children. As you may know, I got out of the rap game while incarcerated in the pound. After trading in the violence and misogyny of gangsta rap for the peace and gender equality of Islam, I vowed never to take my hip-hop bark to the stage again. But I have consented to this re-release because it is for a good cause. One dollar from every album sale will go toward
Sister Bella's Children's Charities. The charity, in the Catholic wing of Pug Life Ministries, is in dire need of Milkbones and Snausages to feed the puppies and human children of the congregation during the holiday season. Tha Doggfather is available at record stores everywhere.

Sunday, November 20, 2005


As you may have noticed, this blog has undergone some changes over the last week. I pray that they don't turn any of you off, for it is the Pug Life faithful whom I am blogging for. First, I turned on word verification. I hated to make it more difficult for you to comment, and I hope it won't deter anyone from posting. I greatly enjoy reading what you have to say. But I felt that the spam was getting out of hand, and it was too much of a hassle to delete it all. However, even though the spammers had been warned, I began to feel a twinge of guilt. One of the biggest offenders no longer has this site as a forum to advertise his services. "What if I am taking rawhide off of this man's table?" I thought to myself. "What if he will now have to live under a bridge? What if he will have to sell his children?" These thoughts began to gnaw at me. And so I would like to offer him one last advertisement, for the sake of my conscience and his children:

Are you looking for Dallas/Allen/Frisco/Plano carpet cleaning? Are you willing to let a quasi-illiterate spammer who writes in gibberish sentences into your home? Do you want to "compleatly elimate" pet odor? Do you want to be able to meet all of your home cleaning and online gambling needs on the same Web site? Then visit Sterling Carpet Cleaning on
the Web, or call 214-348-3438. Check out the "competors," then call Sterling Myers.

There. I feel better now. The second change involves some attempts to generate revenue in hopes of building the
Dogloo compound more quickly. I'm not entirely pleased with the results so far, so I will continue to tinker with it. My hope is that the new ads and Google toolbar will not be too obtrusive and that some of you will find them useful.

Larger than life

I delivered my first sermon behind the white sheet, and I must say, this is something I could get used to. By moving some audio-visual equipment and a crate of rawhide backstage, we were able to boost my silhouette projection to 45 feet high. However, I missed being able to look out and see the sense of awe on the faces of the faithful. An ideal balance will be struck when Pug Life Ministries makes the move to the Dogloo Mosque. Then, I will have unobstructed sight-lines to all 65,000 in attendance, and they will be able to watch me on a pair of 90-foot-high Jumbotrons. I salivate just thinking about it. With your financial help, God willing, we will make the Dogloo dream a reality. Remember the words of the Quran: "And whatsoever you spend in Allah's cause, He will replace it."

Friday, November 18, 2005

Heel, then heal

A new study has proven that canines are imbued by Allah with mystical healing powers. At last, the humans have discovered what I have known all along. The findings indicate that humans with severe heart disease showed marked improvement after the mere presence of a dog in their hospital room. Their anxiety levels decreased 24 percent. Given this indisputable evidence of the healing power of dogs, a question naturally arises: When will you humans end this chauvinistic, self-defeating process of denying canines admission to medical school? Honestly now, who would you rather have holding the scalpel as you're wheeled in for emergency surgery: a well-trained pug or that goofball Patch Adams?

I recommend this article to those interested in learning more about canine healing.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

My life: Trial of the century

Previous installments of this autobiographical series are available in the right-hand rail, under the heading "Mugsy's Biography."

Chapter VIII
After being booked and having my
mug shot taken, I was locked in a cage. With my one phone call, I had commanded my agent to put together a legal dream team the likes of which this country had never seen. Having been caught red-pawed, I knew I would need it. Within an hour, they began to arrive from around the country: F. Lee Bailey, Harriet Miers, Alan Dershowitz, Jackie Chiles, Robert Shapiro and Johnnie Cochran. If these legal masterminds couldn't help me, no one could. Johnnie Cochran took the lead, going over every last detail of the Great Panty Raid with me. He spent countless hours running through different courtroom scenarios, preparing to poke holes in the prosecution's case. Johnnie interviewed witnesses and took a team of forensics experts to the Hyatt Regency Dallas, the scene of my arrest. After months of preparation, the trial began.

To say it was a media circus would be an understatement. Reporters and camera crews from around the world converged on the
Old Red Courthouse, the landmark building where my trial took place. Johnnie's strategy was to use what he called the cross-dressing defense. I remember well the day that he famously told the jury, "If the panties don't fit, you must acquit." Then he had me try to squeeze into some of the tinier pieces of evidence. I, of course, made a show of my curly tail getting hung up on the waistbands. But the prosecutor, no legal slouch himself, argued that I was stealing the panties to chew, not to wear. He brought in a slew of witnesses -- roadies, club promoters, fellow rappers -- to document my panty habit.

The prosecution had made a compelling case, showing that DNA evidence connected me to fur and saliva found at the hotel. The city of Dallas -- clearly embarrassed by the Mary Kay scandal -- was pulling out all the stops, eager for a conviction. After shooting down my suggestion to bribe the jurors, Johnnie said that our only chance was for me to take the witness stand. With the star-struck jury hanging on my every word, I did as Johnnie had instructed: I let my innate charisma shine through. I stayed cool under the prosecutor's relentless questioning, offering an explanation for every piece of evidence, a well-thought-out answer for every question. But would it be enough? The defense rested. My fate was in the hands of the 12 human jurors.

To be continued

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

No hiding

I went today to be fitted for a prosthetic wrinkle. I felt that my newly Botoxed face might frighten worshippers at this weekend's services, so I was looking for a way to disguise the temporary damage. But as I browsed the selection of ready-made wrinkle masks, I realized that this would be yet another act of vanity. So I left the prosthetics store, empty-pawed. I will wear this look of toxin-induced surprise as a reminder of my moment of weakness. And to avoid scaring the Pug Life congregation, I will simply preach behind a large white sheet, with my silhouette projected 40 feet high.

Monday, November 14, 2005

Oh, the vanity

Today's lesson, dear Pug Life faithful, is about vanity. And I am ashamed to say that the subject of this sermon is none other than your faithful leader. Foolishly, I put my personal vanity before my obedience to God. I disregarded the wise words of the Prophet, peace be upon him, who said, "Verily, God instructs me to be humble and lowly and not proud." You see, in a moment of weakness, I used Botox. I began to feel self-conscious about my appearance several weeks ago, when I received a less-than-impressive rating on a hot-or-not Web site. My self-image deteriorated further when I failed to receive even a third-place ribbon at Pug-O-Ween, despite an obviously superior costume. Add to those two events the fact that my beard is showing a little more gray lately, and perhaps you can understand why I would undertake this rather drastic cosmetic procedure. I sought the fountain of youth in a bottle of botulinum toxin, and let me tell you, friends, Allah has made it clear to me that my act of vanity was a mistake. I now see that a pug has wrinkles for a reason. Without them, I carry a look of perpetual surprise and astonishment on my face.

I traveled to the
Amon Carter Museum in Fort Worth on Sunday to view an exhibition of works by the acclaimed photographer Richard Avedon. His "In the American West" features photos of oilfield workers, miners, drifters, carnies and other decidedly unglamorous humans. Their piercing eyes and haunting stares held the rapt attention of all in attendance -- until I entered the room. My taut brow instantly drew stares. My large eyes, usually minimized somewhat by the folds of loose skin surrounding them, stood out like saucers. As I rounded a corner into the exhibit, a young girl actually screamed in terror. This was my punishment. For the next three to six months, I will pay my penance. Every time I venture out in public. Every time I look in a mirror. Fortunately, this toxin that was injected into my head will wear off, and my rugged yet handsome features will be restored. I just thank Allah I didn't opt for the laser hair removal.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

A dream come true?

Forget about the recall; does anybody know where I can get some of these?

WASHINGTON, Nov 1 (Reuters) - Quaker Maid Meats Inc. on Tuesday said it would voluntarily recall 94,400 pounds of frozen ground beef panties that may be contaminated with E. coli.

The full story is here.

Thanks a mill, Rick

Please write your Congresshumans and ask them to support Pennsylvania Sen. Rick Santorum's effort to crack down on high-volume puppy mills. If pugs controlled the Senate, these overcrowded, filthy breeding centers would have been shut down years ago.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

The boycott is working

Shares of Comcast (CMCSA) hit a new 52-week low on Tuesday, proof that our boycott is working. The share price tumbled after the company's earnings report last week, falling over 5 percent in a day. The pug-induced death spiral will surely continue until this overcharging criminal syndicate has either repented or is out of business. Among the information the company reported (and we should remember that Comcast is prone to lying, so its situation could be far worse):
  • Free cash flow is down 35 percent in 2005.
  • Expected capital spending will rise 20 percent, in an apparent effort to combat the effects of the pug boycott.
  • The company lost a whopping 46,000 customers during the quarter. Analysts had expected a small increase in the customer base; these analysts were obviously not aware of the Pug Life boycott.

Time is running out for Comcast and its corrupt leadership. If you own any shares, I urge you to sell them before it is too late. Don't be fooled by any hiccups on the path to Enrondom.

INCOMPETENCE UPDATE: I officially switched my phone service to SBC on Oct. 25. Two days ago, I received a bill from Comcast for the period of Nov. 1 to Nov. 30. And not only was Comcast attempting to charge a noncustomer; the corporate buffoon also overcharged, yet again. The correct monthly bill, were I still a customer, would have been $22.54. This latest bill was for $37.09. A month ago, I spent over an hour on the phone with a Comcast employee, going over every bill I had received since April. She assured me that the company had made repeated mistakes, that I owed no money, and that the problem would be taken care of. It was yet another Comcastic lie.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Full house

What an exciting weekend it's been. Civil unrest has gripped France, and a cruise ship was attacked by real-life pirates. But at the ayatollah household, most of the excitement stemmed from another phenomenon: houseguests. Several humans stayed over, using up my hot water and mooching my Milkbones, as usual. But this time, they brought a dog. Ditto, a Boston Terrier, came to me Saturday with wide-eyed excitement. "Ayatollah Mugsy," he said, "I have come to learn from you. Please show me the path to righteousness." After sniffing young Ditto intensely to gauge his sincerity, I said to him: "I will teach you, my son. What better time to learn about Islam than during Eid ul-Fitr?" For the next 32 hours, we studied. Ditto had a voracious appetite for knowledge. And for Snausages. And so we had much in common. Ditto, my friend, you're welcome to come back anytime.

I'd like to wish Bobby and Gracie a lasting, happy marriage. Some would say that the odds are against them, having married so young. But I think these two crazy kids just may pull it off, God willing.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

An open letter to Mohamed ElBaradei

Mohamed ElBaradei
Director General
International Atomic Energy Agency
P.O. Box 100
Wagramer Strasse 5, A-1400
Vienna, Austria

Mr. ElBaradei,

When I accepted your recent invitation for lunch, I assumed that it would be a cordial meeting. I thought that you would want to tell me privately what you have refused to say publicly -- that the Nobel committee had made a huge mistake in selecting you and your inept inspectors over me for this year's peace prize. So imagine my surprise when you made no mention of your undeserved award and instead insisted that I reveal to you classified pug information.

As you know, it is a long-standing pug policy to neither confirm nor deny the existence of a nuclear program. This policy of strategic ambiguity has served us well over the years, and I do not intend to change it. Furthermore, you demanded that I open up pug facilities to inspectors from the International Atomic Energy Agency. Against my better judgment, I had already allowed your inspectors to tour the foyer, dog run and restrooms of my headquarters. But now you ask me to grant your inspectors full access to sensitive areas including my blogging station, my inner sanctum, my harem and my hall of centrifuges. Rest assured, Mr. ElBaradei, this will never happen. It is my sacred duty to defend pug sovereignty, and defend it I will.

I suggest you put an immediate halt to your futile demands and cease making empty threats about U.N. sanctions. Your actions are the height of arrogance and an affront to the pug nation, and we will tolerate no more.
Supreme Ayatollah
Pug Life Ministries

Send me your poultry

The news media have been abuzz with talk of a potential avian flu pandemic. Although the much-feared influenza strain has not proven capable of easy human-to-human transmission, scientists fear that it will mutate and wreak havoc on a population with no built-up immunity. The scientists will say that you have nothing to fear from eating poultry, provided it is well-cooked. But is that a chance you really want to take? Do you really want to play chicken with such a frightening virus? As a compassionate religious leader, I feel it is my duty to do whatever I can to protect my loyal human followers. And so I offer you the opportunity to send me your poultry. Whether it be chicken, turkey or quail, I will eat it, thereby removing any threat to the human population. The H5N1 virus is not believed to be a threat to the canine population, so I can safely dispose of this tainted meat. It is the least I can do.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

One last hurrah

In recent weeks, I have increasingly found myself chewing on paper -- primarily magazines, newspapers and book jackets. Perhaps some of you readers in the medical field could tell me: Is it possible that this is a symptom of a pulp deficiency in my diet? Speaking of diet, I helped many of my neighborhood's youths avoid starvation last night by plying them with candy. The children also had the opportunity to see me in my Batpug garb, as I got into the Halloween spirit by donning the costume one last time. My ministry now plans to retire the legendary jersey and hang it from the rafters of the Dogloo Mosque. This seems like a good time to remind the Pug Life faithful that donations are accepted via the PayPal icon at the right side of the page. Masterpieces of pug/Inuit architecture don't build themselves, you know.