No.. The little ladies ain't in any trouble.. At least not SERIOUS trouble...

Yet.

Held ransom: One Ron Mexico card, currently in Alane's possession, pulled out of a pack of football cards she purchased toward.

Anyone who wants possession of ol' Dogkiller had best speak up by the 1st, and he'll be yours. Otherwise, Mr. PETA himself will suffer a nasty death at the hands of Alane's old lighter and/or my boots.

Anyone? Seriously?

Not like he deserves it anyway.

At times like this I wish I had Bob's phone number. I'm sure he'd have a field day with Ron Mexico...

Hell, I'm not even a dog person (cats like me better anyway), and I'd still gladly wait in line to give him the business over his little "hobby". There is a difference between not being dogs' best friend, and being a sick fuck.

Too bad Ty Cobb isn't around for some spike shapening tips *admiring her metal-heeled boots*.. They could come in handy right now, even if Cobb was a son of a bitch.

I do wish I had raised my hand and asked Bob if he wanted to pull a Happy Gilmore on ol' Ronnie.

Listening to: "Who Let The Dogs Out" by the Baha Men, "Dog Bite" by Dead Kennedys

Labels: A world gone mad, Blogathon 2007, Boot Worship