FoodLady Chronicles – I’m tired. edition

Dear Miss Mia (a/k/a pain in my ass hyper-happy pibble o’ doom) and Mr. SamSam (a/k/a asshole),
We (FoodLady, FoodMan, Herbert (only. good. dog. here), and Lucille (kitty) formally request that both of you knock. it. da. fuq. off. now. please.
It is a superbigpainintheass to keep the two of you separated and my limited ‘speriments (shut up, I’m a scientist) of allowing the two of y’all to hang out always start out promising until Sam gets a bug up his butt about…..I don’t know….a misplaced fart?!? maybe Mia makes faces at him behind my back??!! and then Sam gets bitchy and Mia gets all “I’m Godsdamned Xena Super Kung Fu Puppy, Asswipe – let’s rumble!” and then Herbert can’t help but get involved but he has no horse in the race and basically acts a fool trying to be rough and tough too until I start to play, “Now. Everyone. Must. Die! No Food For You! Or You! Or You! edition” and poor special “I’m involved too!” Herbert ends up looking the fool with a leg of whatever dog he could reach in his mouth.
it. is. exhausting.
Additionally, Miss Mia? I love you. I do. Sure, you are a rather gross pustule-laden, scarred, drooling monster of adoration – shit, that’s kinda right in my doggie wheelhouse – but as much as I adore you, after I spend 20 minutes massaging in that sulfur-rich goop into your scaly bits you stink like, well, sulfur. Please don’t be offended that you get locked in your baby-gate area following your bath & goop sessions. Look on the bright side, you got a bully-stick (smoked bull penis, nope – not kidding, it’s a thing) to chew on!
Smooches,
FoodLady!

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