Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Max Says, "I'm Da Man!"
First of all, that's not me in the picture above, either. For one, I'm Canadian (Quebecois, in fact) and not American; secondly, I'm not white. I'm black...and proud of it! (But once again, Mom liked the picture and thought I needed a patriotic boost.)
Hi. My name is Max. My mom's name is Pearl, my dad's name is Pearl's husband. My brothers' names are Pearl's boys, my sister's name is Pearl's girl.
How're those for juicy details?
Okay, sorry to do this to you folks, but I don't think I can blog at this time. I promised you photos of me, not some cheap knockoff Mom substituted for me, and stories to tell. But Ralphie offended my sensibilities big-time in that last post of mine. He called my stuff "junk"! It is not junk; it was never junk; it will never be junk.
Ralphie, someone's junk is someone else's treasure...or even family jewels. I protect these family jewels and don't need West Coasters calling them otherwise. Got that, California boy?
Okay, so I'm feeling a little sorry for myself; I thought I'd made it big-time in Blogville, setting up dates with cute beagles named Bella, and comparing notes about Shabbos with other Jewish dogs, and just using up my mom's computer time. But apparently not everyone thinks I'm so good...harrumph...calling my personal belongings junk!
Okay, I've vented enough for now. I've got to go check out Phoebe, that little white cute thing who lives a few houses away. Believe me, it's much easier to have a local relationship with Phoebe than a long-distance one with Bella.
So, I might catch you another time...I might not. Ralphie, do me a favor and go hound another dog! Not me...'cause "I'm Da Man!"