D.B.Tarpley's Amazing Ass Site-7/19/18

An open letter to my dogs:

Greetings and salutations Pepper and Reilly,

First, let me wish you both a good and proper morning. I realize you both already rose with me at 4:30 AM, but I also realize that you both promptly went back to sleep after I fed you and left at 5 AM. That’s right I said left, as in Daddy went bye-bye. Some of us aren’t fortunate enough to lay around and sleep all day in a nice, air conditioned home. Some of us have to go to a place called ‘work’ to earn money to pay for that food, and that air conditioning, and that house. And in case you haven’t guessed by now that ‘some of us’…

Is me.

It has come to my attention of late that your contributions to the household have been slim to none. What exactly is it that you guys ‘do’?

Pepper, you in particular have not only failed to help out around the house, but have in fact added more work through your very nerve-addled existence. I have never seen a dog shed as much as you do… little blonde yellow lab/retriever hairs all over the floor/ chair/ sofa/ stairs/ fingers/ hair/ mouth… Pepper your hairs are in my mouth. I am pretty sure I am not supposed to have blonde dog hairs floating around my mouth. I’m not a pervert. I don’t live in Florida.

In addition to the hairs there is the pacing. If Woody Allen fucked Richard Lewis in the ass (I’ll give you a moment to let that visual sink in… Woody’s half flaccid purple nub splopping into Richard’s pale, pasty, flabby yet flat ass as they both rhythmically grunt and simultaneously shrug at the futility of their combined existence… ) and by some miracle of modern science a little butt baby germinated and propagated to fruition and was ripped out via caesarian section and grew up to be the inevitable little floor pacer he would become he wouldn’t come close to out pacing you. Calm the fuck down! There’s the floor… kiss it.

I realize you were rescued after being abandoned in a Wal-Mart parking lot but that was over 4 years ago. You are living in a loving household with people who have not once laid a hand on you, nor tried to sell you anything on ‘Roll Back’. Stop acting as if you are one of those 13 kids in California who never got to watch Scooby Doo. You can watch Scooby Doo any time you want. Hell, if you act right I’ll go out and pay the fucker to come over and rodger you roundly. I don’t know what his going rate is but I hear he’s addicted to Scooby Snacks so I can probably get a real sweet strawberry deal.

You have nothing to be anxious about.

And another thing, if you don’t stop opening the upstairs door when I leave I am going to chop your front paws off. That’s not a metaphorical statement. That’s not an exaggeration. That’s not something I just say when I'm frustrated. No. I am going to go downstairs, get the ax hanging on the wall by the door, bring it back upstairs, and chop your front fucking paws the fuck off. I know you use them to twist the knob and open the door. I'm not stupid. You can pretend you don’t know what I'm talking about all you want, just remember… chop/ chop/ chop.

Literally nothing to be anxious about.

Reilly? Where are you going? I have a thing or two to say to you too. Namely, stop barking at the T.V. every time a fellow dog graces the screen. Don’t you ‘who, me?’ me. You not only bark every time you see a dog, you have the soundtracks to all the commercials with dogs in them memorized so that you bark if you even hear the first notes of whatever lame ass soundscape lies underneath the video. You hear this and you bark like there is no tomorrow because heaven forbid there is another doggie up there behind the televised window having fun when you cannot.

How do you think that makes me feel?

That you have me here, all to yourself and all you can think about is other masters… other televised smiling masters spoiling their doggies with their fake generic plastic smiles laughing and having fun while they promote whichever medicine or car they are pimping… (It’s always a medicine or a car that requires a family with a dog.)

Am I not good enough for you?

I’ve got news for you Reilly, those smiles are fake. They are actors. They aren’t really having all that much fun. As soon as the camera shuts off the smile fades and then you know what happens? Guess what happens? I’ll bet you’ll never guess… they kick those doggies. That’s right Reilly, they kick them. Is that what you want, to be drop kicked as soon as the camera shuts off? Is that what you are envious of? You don’t know how good you have it.

And another thing, stop squinting at me like you are Clint Eastwood. Because you’re not.

Reilly, you eat your own shit. Do you think Clint Eastwood eats his own shit? No. I am fairly certain he does not.

And stop rolling around in dirt when you go out to pee. You hate taking baths and yet you compulsively roll around in the dirt like a pig when you go outside. You would think that your synapsis would connect and you would realize the causal effect of your actions. But no. You are not that smart. You are no Benji. There, I said it. I’ll own those words. I now it smarts but you had to hear it. Someone in your life has to be honest with you.

Reilly.

You.

Are.

No.

Benji.

You're not even a Spuds Mackenzie.

And both of you, stop barking every time someone enters the house. The same people come and go day after day and you both insist on barking every time someone enters the front door. If some random, vicious burglar were to actually break in what would you do? Lick their ankles til they eventually eroded straight through, causing the surprised home invaders to fall flat on their bloody stumps in de feet… (see what I did there?) Is that the plan? Well that wouldn’t work. You want to know why? Because that kind of erosion would take hundreds of years and home invaders just don’t have that kind of time.

On an unrelated topic, Reilly stop humping Pepper. And Pepper, you stop tempting him with your ripe, fluffy backside. Reilly she is 4 times your size. You’re like a little Thai soccer player dehydrating in an enormous dank cave. (No offense Pepper.) Plus your nuts are, how can I put this delicately, non-existent. You will never cum. All you end up doing is rolling out your lipstick which causes you to then stop and lick it so that it goes back into hiding. (I have to admit I am envious of this particular skill. I’m not saying I want to lick… I was just… puppy penis… I want… forget I said anything. You do what you have to do to be happy.)

I guess that ultimately that’s all any of us want is to be happy.

That is all I want for the two of you, for you both to be happy.

I think that is the reason any of us owns dogs in the first place. We have so little control over our own happiness that being able to provide it for another is a thing of such abject goodness as to balance out the many bad things we endure from day to day.

That is your purpose. That is what you do. You make me feel better about myself and your day to day needs force me to be the man I truly wish I were. You make me want to be as you see me… infallible. And no matter how implausible that may be your very presence in my life necessitates the effort which in and of itself is a truly remarkable thing.

So thank you my Pepper.

And thank you my Reilly.

And to both of you, an amazing ass day.

STOP SCREWING YOUR SISTER!