monster sarcasm rally

Beandog is sick. He's having tummy troubles. I'm pretty sure it's irritable bowel syndrome or something related.

I know. So far, this complete un-sarc. Stay with me.

The troubles he's having mean that he, um... is ahem... unaware of his needs until they overtake him. He'll be standing there looking at you, and WHAMMO! He's pooping. He gets the most horrified and embarrassed look on his face and runs out of the room. See, Beandog's very, very dignified. Well, except for his farting hobby, but that's a whole 'nother story...

Imagine him as a very dignified, proper gentleman. Probably English. He'd probably want to be played by Alec Guinness when his life story gets made into a movie. Too bad for him that old Obi Wan's dead. Anyways, visualise Alec Guinness standing in front of you discussing some dignified, proper topic, like Grey Poupon mustard. All of a sudden he poops on your dining room floor. He'd be horrified, right?

Poor guy.

Beandog, I mean. Alec Guinness is dead. He probably doesn't even care that he's dead, because he's too busy with the whole being dead thing.

Anyways, he'll go to the vet on Monday and get some nice, happy pills to take care of the troubles and he'll be fine. The real problem is with the Stinky Monkey. See, he has a bad attitude. Plus he's just evil. He's like Stewie from the Family Guy. I'm convinced he's probably plotting my death even as I type. Or chasing dust. Maybe eating my socks. Possibly molesting a towel. Whatever.

See, the thing is, I had some, erm... issues with him when I first got him. He hadn't been fully housebroken. I had a bit of a struggle getting him to believe me when I told him that we just didn't do that sort of thing in the house. He wanted to pee on everything. I wanted him to not pee on anything inside the house. We had words. We had unintelligible muttering, grunting and shouting. We had expensive specialists, two of them. Eventually, he got the message. Mostly.

Now, though, things are different. He sees that Beandog poops in the house, and he sees that he doesn't get into any trouble.

Oh, so it's okay to do that in here, is it? You told me it wasn't. I'll show you what I think of your double standard.

Can you hear me screaming? Do you think maybe I shouldn't have had that second beer last night?