a conversation with Brody

It went like this: 

Mama was in bed, reading her Kindle, and I came in to say hello, and naturally, Brody was layin in there with her. Brody jumped in on the conversation. As I began this post, I thought, 'How can I put Brody's voice into words?' ... Well, friends, here's the best I can do ... imagine a black lab, wearing a robe and slippers, smoking a cigar in his study. That's how Brody's voice sounded. 

Anyhoo ...

We started talking about our pasts, apparently, because Brody casually disclosed that he had nine kids.

Mama and I look at each other, like, "I know damn well he doesn't. After all, Brody's manhood was taken at a pretty young age." 

So, we decide to question him further. "What are their names?" Mama pried. He rolled off some names, but the only one I recall is 'Tennessee'. {??!?!}

I further investigated, "Were they all from the same litter or more than one?" 

"They were from two litters - and I had more on the way in a third litter, when I got the call." 

"The call?" I asked.

"Yes. They called to tell me that I could no longer have children," he said solemnly. (I guess maybe he slept through the surgery, and when he woke up, didn't realize what had transpired, so the phone call was a shock?)

WEIRD dream, y'all. And I didn't even eat dairy before bed.

Linked up:

Brody: Carley Sue came to visit ...

And that B is cray.

First, she tried to eat my food, drink my water, beg my humans for food.

Shiiiiiit.

Then everything broke loose :

And I can't even TELL y'all how many times she licked all up in my mouth. Girls don't make sense.

I finally had to escape upstairs. (Carley Sue's mama doesn't allow her upstairs. Thank God.)

I know Carley Sue has a gnarly psycho side. But, sometimes she is aiight.

See? 

Have a good weekend, friends. Watch out for crazies.

work out. life according to brody.

Whattup, peeps? How's life treatin y'all? Ballariffic, I hope.

Well, I thought on this glorious Friday, I'd share with y'all some tips on how to get and maintain a sleek physique. I feel fortunate to own peeps who take me out and throw my ball on the regular. But they are lazy sho nuff when it is rainy, cold and totally dreary outside. Somethin about muddy paws and the carpet and whatnot. I thought that was what a towel was for, but whatevs.

Anyhoo - for starters, I recommend your humans getting one of these ball throwers. Sure humans have arms. But the thing is, if you get them to get you a ball thrower, they don't have to touch the mud and slobber on the ball - which apparently is a huge deal breaker for some of them. Also, it helps the ball go way farther and way faster - which is a plus for the leg muscles and cardio workout. But - you can't be all lazy and take your sweet time gettin to the ball. Gotta get there with no more than one bounce, or YOU SUCK.

I mean run! Give it all you got.

Even if you are lard-ish from too many table scraps, you gotta do your best so you can get better and better. Faster and faster. Know what I'm sayin?

And be ready. Even if you gotta get your lean on and you can feel your muscles burning in anticipation. Remember, you don't wanna be lard-like forever. DO IT MAN! (Hey! Annnnnd all you ladies! Big ups to a girl who cares about her figure!)

After a good workout, you gotta come in and get all the kinks out so you can rest. This could mean a few laps up and down the steps, or around the house, a few rounds of tuggin on the rope, or an up and down jump session from one of the humans' beds. 

Bonus points if you can make them squeal/shriek/yell/laugh. DOUBLE bonus points if you can tear some stuff off the wall, like curtains or somethin.

And, of course, at the end of your workout, you'll need to get some proper rest and give your muscles about 5 minutes to heal before starting all over again. I recommend choosing a different human to throw the ball this time, though. They seem to get all irritated after they "just came back in". Whiners.

Keep it real.

Bo-bosky.

friday with brody broham

Hey, peeps. Shug has been busy and exhausted this week - so she says. Me? I think she is just too lazy to get out the Nikon and upload real pics of me. But, whatevs.

Sometimes she takes pictures of me when she thinks I'm sleeping. Creepy right?

But I know her game. So I always sit up and cheese it for the camera.

Sometimes Shug lays in bed with the laptop or a magazine, and I think to myself, "Even with all those blankets, she is probably cold. After all, she doesn't have a gorgeous, shiny, black coat like me." So, because I'm such a nice guy, I lay my 85 pound self right across her knees. Yep. Don't move for hours. I know she really appreciates it.

You'd think in return, she wouldn't mind playing with me and my rope. But she gives up so easy. Claims the rope is hurting the skin on her hands. What a wimp.

Now, don't tell her I said this, but sometimes I think she brings new dogs around to make me jealous. Dogs in silly outfits and hats. I mean, she just sat him right in front of me. I sniffed him out and roughed him up a bit, but he just sat there like a knot on a log, so I figure he isn't a threat.

Sometimes, we go outside and play ball with this cool ball thrower. But not nearly enough. We only go out about 3 or 4 times a day. Lame. Sometimes I act like I have to pee, and I put the ball in my mouth and sneak it outside.

I've also got a system worked out where I get leftover containers. Of course, all of the food has already been eaten. I get to lick up all the remnants though. I prefer to take it onto the living room carpet. But - for some reason, Shug insisted I keep this Wendy's Chili container on the dining room floor. Hate that. I can't keep a good grip. I mean, she acts like I have hands. Gyah.

Hope your weekend's full of delicious treats, naps and ball throwing madness. If you're like me, you'll get more "me" time in since the humans are layin out from "work" on the weekends. I never believe they are working as much as they claim to be anyway, you know? Are you really goin to work in gym clothes at 8:30 pm? I don't think so. But, let them have their fun.

Love, 

Brody Broham



Also, check out:

brody.

I'm so glad Shug got a Nikon for Christmas. The camera clearly loves me.

Hey - don't hate the player. Hate the game.

(Not really. Brody's manhood has been taken. Bless his heart.)