"You're A Real Effing Petey!"

My girlfriend, Tay, has two dogs. One is a pit bull mix female named "Daisy" who reminds me of "Petey" from "The Little Rascals". Daisy is pretty much a sweet dog with a pleasant personality that Tay found abandoned in her driveway a few years ago. Daisy is pretty well behaved except for one aspect. She's an outside dog but she would sell her soul to the devil to get inside the house. She's been known to push open doors, jump through screens and run through your legs as you enter the house just to get inside for the few seconds before you grab her by her collar and haul her ass back outside.

Tay has another dog, a lab called "Shadow", who, when I met Tay should have been called "Nightmare". He regularly jumped up on anyone approaching the house and he was usually soaked or covered in mud when he did. The dog knows every waterhole on the property and regularly is a wet mess. Although we're starting to make progress with his behavior, it's Daisy who really grinds my fucking gears on a regular basis, not Shadow.

Because she looks like Petey, I started calling her that. I do it just to piss her off. Believe it or not, she seems to get an indignant look on her face when I call her Petey and it just stuck. I call her Petey all the time.

Of course, now that I call her Petey, the word Petey is associated with what a pain in the ass she can really be. Petey, in the Bluey dictionary, has become synonomous with "a real pain in the ass", hence the phrase "you're a real effing Petey!".

For example: When Tay and I returned from vacation in Naples, Fla, we we're both hauling our own bag from baggage to long term parking. Her bag was nice and new and had a pull out handle and wheels. Mine was an ancient piece of shit that I basically had to carry. It probably weighed about 100 pounds. After we walked the mile back to the exit where the car was, my arms were about to fall off. Tay was perfectly fine. Then Tay turns to me and says, "would you mind pulling the car out and picking me up here at the door, sweetie?". Needless to say, when I get to my vehicle, I write on the tailgate "Tay is a real Petey" with my finger. When I pull around to Tay, she is just about to lift the tailgate when she spots the message. I start laughing my ass off. Message received loud and clear.

So, if someone walks by you in the future and calls you a real fucking Petey some day, you'll know that you're being a real pain in the ass!


Bluey's Girls 3, Bluey 1.

I took my progeny to the Mellon Arena last night for the Pens-Rangers game.

Yes, the cartoonist was there again and produced the image of my girls that you see above (l. Bebis, c. Kitty and r. Loni).

Thank God, I didn't make any bets with the girls since they went home with the same smiles on their faces as their Penguins beat my beloved NY Rangers 3-1. My little pugilism lovers cheered the Thorburn-Hollweg fight and went nuts over Mark Recchi's 2 goals and Jordan Staal's goal. I had very little to cheer about outside of a Brendan Shanahan goal on a Penguin giveaway.

The girls also danced themselves onto the scoreboard screen late in the game. Truly a fun night!


Bluey On Vacation

Tay and I are going on vacation and we will be away for four days at an undisclosed location (damned papparazzi!).

Since I'm not the type of person who brings a computer along with me on vacation, especially the beach, Bluey's World will be in a holding pattern until my triumphant return next week. I'm sure I'll be filled with tales to tell of my trip and a whole new batch of people that give me cancer.

Enjoy the break my dear readers, you deserve it!


Congratulations To The Democrats!

No, I really do mean it.

Obviously the country wanted a change and you guys have promised "a new direction for America".

I'm really interested whether there are actually any ideas behind the new direction lip service or if the Democrats actually have some answers. I didn't hear many during the campaigning but maybe the party just wanted to keep them close to the vest. I was actually happy to see the Dems put up more social conservatives for election this year.

Anyways, good luck! Your 2008 success will depend heavily on your actions over the next two years!


"I'm Taking The Hammer Out Of Your Bony Hands, Kicking Out Your Left Knee, Dropping You To The Ground and Then Pimp Slapping Your Sorry Ass!"

(Don Felatio to Kay, Game 3, Lunch Money)

No, Don Felatio wasn't especially nice to his wife, Kay, during our first Games Night at the Bluey estate. The Don and Bluey put on a clinic on how to keep your pimp hand strong in Game 3 of Lunch Money, as they quickly disposed of their significant others, Kay and Tay, and left them unconscious. Bluey used the dreaded Poke In The Eye, to render Tay blind and vulnerable to a subsequent ass whooping.

The gals, however, had their way with Bluey in Game 1 with Kay dealing out a boatload of combo damage after choking Bluey's sorry ass. In Game 2, Kay and Tay demolished Bluey and the Don. Tay ended up winning the first two games, besting Kay in a pair of memorable game ending catfights...Meow!!!

Space Munchkin was also played simultaneously on the table with Colin being the first to reach level 20. He bested Griffin, FNG, and Tracer.

Earlier in the Evening, the whole lot played three plus games of Pitch Car with Meersky winning Race #1, FNG winning Race #2 (with an assist by Griffin and a major choke job by Bluey's "It's Just Physics"), and Griffin winning race #3 against Bluey's girls, who then claimed the game as their own as we cleared the main table.

Finally, the night ended in one giant game of Kill Dr. Lucky in which Dr. Lucky was able to avoid death for at least two hours and countless murder attempts by Tay, The Don, Kay, Poppinfresh, FNG, Griffin, Tracer and Bluey the card whore until Griffin was able to finally do him in with a rusty spoon, I think.

We chowed down on Mineo's Pizza and had a birthday cake and Reese's Ice Cream to celebrate Erie's 25th birthday (or at least the 10th or so anniversary of it!). Meersky returned to the party after a brief stint at his brother's house dressed as a priest. He almost immediately was discovered fondling FNG in the upstairs bathroom.

All in all, a very entertaining night and we're definitely going to have to plan another Games Night again real soon. Thanks to all for making the night an absolute blast!


Bluey's World: One Year Anniversary!

Today marks the one year anniversary of this blog. One year ago today, I put the proverbial pen to paper and started spouting the most inane, dysfunctional and extremely masturbatory ideas and stories that my brain came up with on a weekly basis.

My plan is to continue until the well runs dry or I finally succumb to the ass cancer that people give me on a daily basis. (Especially from that oblivious cunt the other day who was standing in the middle of a busy road talking on her cellphone while me and Poppinfresh were driving to lunch, or the two referees at Bebis' basketball game last night who seemingly couldn't be bothered to actually ref a 11 year old girls basketball game).

I'm actually having fun with this medium and want to give thanks to my friends and family for giving me the fuel I need to keep it going. Thanks for all the positive feedback.

And for those who haven't got a mention in the blog yet, be careful of what you wish for. Your day is coming soon!



Futurama Raises A Question In My Head

I was watching an episode of Futurama yesterday where Bender sells his body and Richard Nixon's preserved head somehow acquires it and goes on the road for another run at the presidency.

I've been thinking about stem cell research recently and came up with the following question.

If you could keep your brain alive and functional using stem cells, would you consider chopping the head off a genetically matched child (utilizing cloning technology) and grown specifically for you to sew your own head onto thereby staying alive theoretically forever?

I guess a more aseptic way of saying this would be to transplant your brain into a clone of yourself.

Nonetheless, sooner or later, we are going to have the technology to keep people alive forever. Do we use technology to cheat death forever in the future at any cost?

We have cloning technology already. Assuming stem cell research or some other advanced research gives us the power to regenerate our own cells or prevent apoptosis (programmed cell death), the only technology left to complete the process is the brain transplant.

The last thing I want is a 576 year old person walking around perpetually bitter about something that happened to them 379 years ago. Maybe we'd have to invent a selective memory wipe as well.

I guess my point is that Bender's body should only be used for Bender's head, not Richard Nixon's, and when Bender is ready for the junkyard, we recycle him into a few cases of Mr. Pibb cans.

Hey, the worms gotta eat too, right?

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