May 1, 2023
Regard me and be warned, Bipeds. I resolve not to be the recipient of your guff, bullroar, hogwash, claptrap, bunk, or other such codswallop.
Bipeds pay taxes and get to vote. Bipeds thus control the game and get redress for their many grievances in multiple avenues.
I require food to live, and so my Biped buys me food. Would the tax on that bag of food, and dare I say; treats, veterinary visits for both myself and my bites to other dogs etc. exist if I should not exist? Ergo, your taxes are a result of me, Augustus Megatron Bulldozer Kingsbury. And I demand the right to vote.
Ultimatum: If the right to vote is not given unto me, I reserve the right to reveal, keep and update my detailed “Bite List” to the general dregs of our society.
Yes. That is you.
Oh, those slovenly, intrusive, whining, shitting, little bundles of pure joy. Bipeds become weak in the knees when it comes to disciplining them. Somehow this becomes my responsibility and the Bipeds are shocked when I assume that responsibility of training their errant fledglings. Honestly, do Bipeds realize they are hypocritical imbeciles? One time I had to bite a puppy when the hungover guards at a Canine Detainment Facility forgot that I must be separated from puppies at all times. Read about it in A Spike in Kamikaze Attacks if you possess the mettle.
DID YOU KNOW? Puppies are just small, stupid, juvenile dogs?
PEOPLE WHO LEAVE SERIOUS YELP REVIEWS FOR BURGER KING, ETC
What possesses an animal with the largest brain-to-body ratio in the history of this glorious and life-affirming earth to rate fast food restaurants on Yelp? I’m not speaking of giving a Carl Jr’s a one-star review because you caught typhus in their restroom. That’s par for the course. But to wax poetic about the crunchiness of the diced onions and denounce the pickles as being “too aggressive” is a level of insanity I would gladly bite savagely.
And then ask yourself what ninnyhammer uses a Yelp review to decide whether to go to a specific fast food establishment? Truth to tell, I would bite THEM harder and in a more sensitive area than those who wrote the review in the first place. Do you really need Yelp to tell you what to expect from an over-advertised nation-wide restaurant chain? Are you expecting a farm-to-table Taco Bell or the Breakfast Chalupa to be anything less than vomit-inducing? Does the local Dunkin’ Donuts require reservations? Or are you searching for the “Hidden Gem” of KFC’s on I-95? What do the reviews say regarding staff courteousness and conversant regarding the cheese blend in the that particular Taco Bell’s quesadilla?
Read through these reviews of the McDonalds in Brunswick Maine and explain to me why you think you are the Apex Intelligence on this planet.
DID YOU KNOW? It has been scientifically proven that Yelp reviews are only effective if the reviewer is over 6′ 2″ tall.
DOG FOOD MANUFACTURERS
I can tolerate my contemptible Slow-Eat bowl, but I cannot remain silent when the kibble what fills that bowl is without flavor nor the merest hint of succulents. Misunderstand me to your peril; I have been grateful for the nourishment the Bipeds have provided. No more. These Titans of the Dog Food Industry need to add a little Worcestershire sauce at the barest of minimums, and a hand-crafted avocado aioli to avoid being bitten by THIS discerning Canine. And would it KILL these billion-dollar conglomerates to infuse their overpriced kibble with some saffron or curry even if synthetic to a dog palate?
DID YOU KNOW? Bipeds have all kinds of spices like curry, basil, pepper, and cinnamon they withhold from dogs JUST LIKE YOU for no reason?
We are all accustomed to the bare-assed, disgraceful rube that is Don. There are numerous occasions and reasons why a cultured dog such as myself would want to bite Don until he was a crying, blubbering puddle. Being coy and dawdling with my food is at the top of the list. But I relent releasing Don’s specifically embarrassing situations. There are limits. Even for Don.
Like any sentient being under the yoke of a tyrant, I have the right to and expect to be fed at regular times. Not at the whims of Don flitting between juke-joints, and taverns, and for some kind of retarded socialization or self-affirmation.
Collect yourself Don. And don’t cross my path in this manner again.
DID YOU KNOW? Don once ate corned beef hash at every meal in Las Vegas for 48 hours. That’s over 8 pounds of corned beef hash!
THE EVIL VETS
Have I not been warning you dollops regarding the traitorous Evil Vets and their endeavors to subjugate Freedom-Loving dogs everywhere? I addressed these issues in my past writings to a deafening silence. I have since come to expect bloated Biped craniums stuffed with useless information like slugging percentages, Floribama Shore, and Pinterest. I’m sure the rest of the craniums are packed hard with a lot of cotton bunting. Polyester bunting for you country rubes out there.
Any incertitude on your behalf regarding the inherent and spreading evil of the Vets is unforgivable considering the evidence and secure case I have presented repeatedly in this forum. Do you not believe my compelling first-hand accounts of Evil Vets ambushing me, sexually abusing me, detaining me without warrant, and outright instances of trying to murder me? Cast off your dubitation by studying these case histories of the Evil Vets, or you shall be forever dead to me.
DID YOU KNOW? I use my cyborg powers only for good?
Not only did this dimwit let Xander Bogarts leave the team without rending a serious tender to him, he failed to trade Xander for even the proverbial bag of balls. He has frittered away the home-grown talent on this team for NOTHING. And he’s stocked the 2023 Red Sox with AA and AAA ballplayers AT BEST. The signing of Devers was a sop. For the life of my food bowl, I don’t understand why or financially how the red sox organization can bring up all this great talent and not get anything in return.
DID YOU KNOW? Big Papi once ate an entire bale of hay on a dare/date?
TOM “SCANDOVAL” SANDOVAL
Whatever deep political and social rifts this country is experiencing right now, I think we can all agree Tom Sandoval is an insufferable scoundrel.
This grown adult with a caterpillar on his upper lip cheated on the majestic Ariana Madix for the boorish Rachel? What could he possibly find in that dolt Rachel that he could not in the lovely Ariana? Is not Ariana fairer than than the guttersnipe Rachel by a hundred-fold? Perhaps Tom was having a mid-life crisis and enthralled with a floozie 10 years younger than Ariana. That sir, makes you a fool of unrivaled proportions.
It has also come to my attention that Scandoval committed his mischievous deeds soon after Charlotte passed away. What a weight to place on the heart of someone who is already consumed with grief. It makes me long to bite you harder than any Biped on this list. Be grateful this great country separates us, sir. You could not possibly survive it
P.S. And what are you thinking with “Tom Sandoval and the Most Extras?” I mean, we all entertained being in a high school band. Just not when we were 39. Furthermore, I accept that you are incapable of apology to Ariana because of your foolish haughtiness. But you should apologize to this entire nation for your dispassionately irritating musical endeavor.
DID YOU KNOW? No One Cares
This glorified hillbilly thrill-seeker and professional self-abuse expert is attempting to deliver sobriety to Bam Margerera and thus prevent him from dying. I stand to reap quite a sum from a deadpool should Bam snuff it this year. I shall not let the likes of Steve-O deny me the fruit of my intellectual prowess.
Steve-O, I understand you are sober after years of eating squirrels and having the soft spots of your skull hit repeatedly with 2x4s for the enjoyment of a grateful nation. I also surmise that you can legitimately feel the soft emotional tendrils of your frontal lobe trying to escape the dark reaches of your splintered cranium and out to Bam. But I tell you this. If you help Bam escape his crushing chemical dependency and he lives a second after Midnight January 31, 2023 your limbs shall be your recompense to me. I jest you not.
DID YOU KNOW? Steve-O once had intimate relations with a walrus? It’s still working its way through the courts.
Thou shalt not aggrieve Taylor Swift. Lest ye foment the full, blunt force of my wrath. There is nothing further to be said on this matter. She has written songs that can only be construed sweet testaments to me and our unrelenting love.
DID YOU KNOW? Swifties shan’t be molested whilst Augustus Megatron Bulldozer is on the watch. You were warned, simpletons.
Canines such as I are a short-lived beasts on this sacred green earth. I am not lamenting this fact, but I cannot say that I am altogether pleased with the fact that I was not alive whilst Alan Greenspan piloted the Federal Reserve Board with such dexterity and vigor. And while Alan is alert and spry to this day at a respectful 97 years of age, it is not altogether the same as when he commanded the federal banks with an iron fist and steely resolve.
Alan, unlike Jerome would certainly not enrich himself by selling $5 million in stocks prior to October 2020 – one of the worst performances of the stock market in recent memory. In fact, “Jay” LOVES the stock market and his little investment banker buddies more than you. Why don’t you think he was prosecuted for the little “indiscretion” noted above?
And the man is walking an impossibly thin line in raising interest rates so rapidly. Not only do raising interest rates make it more expensive for the middle class to borrow money to buy things like houses, it also has the effect of depressing existing real estate prices that the middle class has already borrowed from. So what happens when the houses the middle class have borrowed against become worth less than their mortgages say they are worth? Can someone say “Toxic Asset Financial Crisis of 2008-2009?” Can any of you Bipeds even remember that far back?
I think not.
DID YOU KNOW? Alan Greenspan was the sexiest Federal Reserve Chairman EVER?
No doubt you have seen this hayseed’s cornball routine on multiple social media outlets. It is a semi-daily report of a black lab named Clarence who fancies himself a “King.” We are never told what domain Clarence rules over. Judging by the videos it is a lackluster suburb where canines remain incessantly imprisoned and without stimulation of any kind except eating couches and molesting kitchen counters for the merest of crumbs.
I am certain there are those of you who credit my derision of Clarence to my 11 years of subjugation by one Maximus Gary Kingsbury. You would not be wrong. The brutes are similar on many levels. But the differences are pronounced.
— Whilst “King” is a fanciful term chosen by self-anointed King Clarence, “King” is actually in Max’s name – Maximus Gary Kingsbury.
— Clarence is obviously a pronounced dullard. He is constantly being caught by his Biped Overlords for the slightest infraction and then begging for freedom. Regard; Max actually got away with impropriety. Max would never be so obvious as to hop up on the counter in full-view of any Bipeds, no matter the occasion. Yet he would wait until all the drunk Bipeds passed out or went into the basement to sing Karaoke before stealing an entire wheel of Brie off the decorative plate without a trace. And, may I add, in front of a sleeping Biped named Scott.
— Max complains less than Clarence. It seems to me that every tiny thing that has come across Clarence’s transom is a giga-event of unrivaled proportions. Max hated Bipeds. But an Biped’s minor mistreatment of him did not necessitate a plea to the ACLU, Humane Society, and certainly NOT to PETA. He would take his punishment like the noble dog he was. He never needed to be “freed.”
— Max was doing this way better before Clarence Jr. was whelped. Remember Max destroying a wedding of complete strangers at The Lucerne? Classic.
I shall close out my criticism here of “King” Clarence with the regret that I do not possess infinite time to root out his fallacies and codswallop. I leave you with a personal message; you strike me as an uncultured, uncouth rube. Beware my presence, my Quacksalver “King” or hell shall certainly follow.
GOOD BOY OLLIE
Again, the disturbing reach of social media has dredged up things that should have been left to the ages. And whereas “King” Clarence is insufferable in his deceit and lies, “Good Boy” Ollie is insufferable in his wholesomeness and complacency. I believe Ollie is continually drugged and beaten to acquire the verisimilitude required for his slopping of the ravenous social media troglodytes. And the prim and proper English woman narrating it gives legitimacy to the average illiterate American.
Were you aware that “Good Boy” Ollie has a therapy pumpkin? It appears that way. I have sent repeated missives exposing the plentitude of omissions, half-truths, outright lies in this video to its creators. I have also alerted them that the sticky-sweet sappiness of their video endangers diabetics and the feeble-brained alike. As of this writing, I have received no reply.
Furthermore, it is my experience with The Martian (Editor’s Note: Marz) that chocolate labs are terribly uncouth and untrainable. They can only be described as over-energized and under-brained. None of these characteristics are displayed by “Good Boy” Ollie
And yet, if I bit Ollie, I do not think the fool would understand it. The satisfaction would be wasted. It should be like biting a soft piece of wood.
Speaking of soft, do not get me going on that reprobate puppy, Tato what appears in latter installments of this whole embarrassing chronicle.
PHARAOH AMENHOTEP III
I understand this “God” is not alive currently. Which is strange for a God. It makes me want to bite him all the more. Seriously, I don’t understand you Bipeds in the slightest.
Amenhotep the Magnificent? My furry, gray-haired buttocks. A mediocre pharaoh by any standard, and he was the product of Thutmose IV and a minor wife. He was more inbred than Tutankhamen! And his “news bulletins” using Informative Scarabs just stink of a populist Roosevelt-like appeal to the bourgeoisie, if you ask me.
I could traverse ages of grievances against this “God.” He spent a lot of money on the arts, most of which were judged profane by the critics of his day. Can you say “Robert Mappelthorpe Collection?” He exposed all kinds of Ancient Egyptian children to so many dingys and hoo-hahs between 1390-1353 BCE that their descendants were barely able to defend themselves against the “Sea Peoples” in 1177 BCE. Their decadent descendants welcomed the collapse of the Bronze Age like a babe welcomes ice cream.
He was one of the sickliest Pharaohs in in the New Kingdom. He never built a pyramid of his own because he was lazy and spent all his time racing scarab beetles and and reading Bukowski. And he was so narcissistic that statues of him are so numerous that there’s only a couple thousand in the British Museum.
I suggest you worship Old Kingdom Pharaohs Djoser (2686 BC – 2649 BC) or Khufu (2589 BC – 2566 BC) as your living God on earth. If the Old Kingdom is not for you, I suggest you skip the entire Middle Kingdom and worship Pharaoh Ramesses II (1303 BC – 1213 BC) from the New Kingdom.
17) DID YOU KNOW? Every time you worship the wrong ancient Egyptian Pharaoh, you are just making your eternity worse by having Osiris rip apart your vital organs until you pass into some other world that I am uninterested in.
And let this be a lesson to you conceited Bipeds out there. I do NOT want to bite you! But bite you I shall, IF your choices leave me no choice.
I am a Gentledog and will remain as such.
Augustus Megatron Bulldozer Kingsbury