Bernard McArthy

Well, I spent a worrysome night, eating red vines I picked up from Pablo. He felt sorry for me and gave me some grape flavor Fanta he saved for me. I asked him if he wanted any puppies but he said he'd rather have ones not cemented to the ground. Oh well.

Eventually, the firemen showed up. I called them about 62 times before they finally belived me.

"Hello, state your emergancy."
"Well, it's not really an emergancy..."
"Not you again. I'm haning up."
"Wait! It's real! The puppies are stuck, and they're starting to get antsy! This is the real deal, man, this deal is realer than Denzel Washington! Do you realize how real that makes this deal is?"
"This could never happen, now shut up before I call the police!"
"I thought this was the police?"
"Just stop calling us, ok?"
"Are you joking with me? This isn't the time for joking, officer. I've got some angry puppies cemented to the ground over here and all you can think to do is joke!?"

Well, luckly they police finally showed up to try and save the little puppies, all cemented to the fresh cement in the sidewalk. What a sad tale for the puppies! Unfortunately for any one that unexpectatly walked through the side walk, many alkels were bitten, many shoes were pooed on and one man even tripped and fell face first on top of one. Luckly the puppy was ok, but the man is still a little brusied, judging on the phone calls he gives me.

Nothing seemed to be comming along. The puppies seemed to be stuck for good. The police picked the block up and shook it upside-down, the tried using some lubricent to slide them our, they even tried some Coke Zero, but they said truck loads of it would be needed for this heavy duty cement.

So, in the end, we found a nice home for them until things get figured out. A nice man called from a place called Ripley's Belive it or Not, and said that the puppies would be perfect for them, and they could look after them. In the meantime, I'll be playing checkers with Frank Allan. I think she might have some good ideas. He did after all, invent his world famous tuna pancakes. People say it smells bad and I should really close the window, but I think its good.

Catch ya later
B Mc

Although I enjoy puppies, and puppies enjoy me, Frank Allan's puppies have been giving me a little trouble lately.

The first night I had them in my appartment, they pooed inside my bed, in my closet, in my dresser, in my neighbor's dressor, in my sink, in my bath tub, inside of my stereo system, all over my framed 10,000 piece puzzle of my favorite Manatee, inside my pillow, all over my neighbor's bath tub, all over the shag carpeting in my boss's room, all over the parking lot, all over the pound truck and all over the cages in the pound.

Luckly, I was able to pick them up from the pound after they had made thier little dash outside.

They then pooed all over my car seat, on the dash board, on the landowner's new car, on the stairs the way up to my room and all over everything else a second time.

Let me just say that I used quite a bit of pooper-scoopers! My neighbors didn't seem to like the dog stuff all over thier stuff. They said the puppies "should be put down right now before this happens to my leather suit again!" and that "these little runts deserved to be thrown out the window" and that "you couldn't take care of your own foot if it wasn't screwed on to your leg you imbicle. This is why I keep telling the landloard to kick your ass out of this joint! This is worse than the cream cheese thing you had going last october!"

I thought they were a little harsh to the poor things. It's not like a couger destoryed thier furniture. They need to put thier selves in the puppie's shoes. How would you feel if people yelled at you for taking a number 2 on thier leather jacket? I thought so! Have a heart!

So I decided to take them on a walk. But, unfortunately, the puppies ran off in all different directions. I had to run around town to find them. Luckly I found them early the next morning. They were all fast asleep, thier paws cemented into a fresh cement block on a side walk 32 miles from my home.

What to do? I had to take the day off of work. I'm sitting here with my laptop feeding the puppies some of my last cans of baked beans I got last month from the buy one get 3 sale. I'm trying to find a constuction worker or something, but no one has shown up. At least the puppies can't run away now! And alot of people walking buy have commented on how cute they are, and alot of people feel very sorry for them, and how poorly they are being treated by that crazy man. I can't blame them for being mad, but the it's really not the consturctions workers' fault, the side walk needed to be fixed.

Catch ya,
B Mc

After days of confusion, worry and massive amounts of nerviously consumed bowls of count chocula, Frank's results are in.

I walked into the vet's to give them a little what-for. They hadn't told me anything about my dog, even though I had sent him a few post cards, several stuffed animals and a large pinata filled with dog food. So I figured I had to go see the little pooch for myself.

I steped into the doctor's office.
"Hey doc, where's my dog?"
"What's your name."
"Bernard."
"You're full name."
"My friends all me Bernard. Arn't you my friend?"

The doctor looked at me funny. Maybe he wasn't my friend.
"Well my neighbor calls me "The Cream Cheese Man" after last halloween. But most other people call me "Bernard McArthy", or sometimes just "B McC", or if you're feeling extra cool, "Bernizle McArhizle."

He typed some stuff into the computer and told me my dog was just getting diagnosed.

JUST GETTING DIAGNOSED???
"That's crazier than a sea horse! And they are horses who breathe under water! Do you realize how crazy this makes this?"

The doctor sighed. "I'm sorry Mr. Mc Arthy, you're dog was doing ok until today. We had some backup due to some injured snakes a while ago."

I shrugged and walked into the office. There was Frank! I was so glad to see him I almost cried!
"Frank m'boy!" I yelled. "What's the matter with Frank, doctor?" I asked Frank's vet.

"Bernard," he said, looking me in the eye, "Frank Allan has puppies!"

That made me pause for a moment. "Boy dogs can have puppies?"

"No, Bernard. Frank is a GIRL."

My jaw dropped! Frank is a girl??? All those secrets we shared, all of those stories we told each other... and he never told me he was a girl.

Frank Allan's back home with me now. I'm not sure what we'll do with all theese puppies she'll have, but I'm sure someone nice like Joe will take a few. Until then, me and Frank are going to live it up. Buy one get 5 free cans of baked beans at Krogers: a night of CRAZYNESS!!!! I tried to invite Joe but apparently he's arragened plans with a traveling troupe of clowns, so he won't be able to.

I am getting worried about Frank Allan. I had to eat 17 bowls of Count Chocula to calm me down, and trust me, normally 3 or four will put me in a daze. Frank Allan's been gone for a day now at the hospital.

I was so worried I couldn't get a thing done at work. I played about 50 rounds of solitare- 50 rounds- before I got my first win. I think Joe could tell I was a little distracted because he said something unusual like "Why the hell arn't you wearing pants?" or something weird like that. I'm glad Joe's concerned about me, but it just didn't help my anxiety pains.

The only thing that could calm me down was thinking about how I got Frank Allan in the first place. I remember the day clearly...

It was a hot summer's day in the middle of June when I was minding my own buisness moonwalking down the street. I had heard somewhere that moonwalking was considered cool, and since I am one of the coolest people I know (besides Pablo) I decided I needed to mookwalk too. It took me a while to stop running off the sidewalk and into angry (VERY ANGRY) truck drivers and the occasional old lady before I mastered it, but in no time I was practically Micheal Jackson, only actually white! So any way, I was moonwalking down the street when I saw a box. But not any box. A cardboard box. But not any cardboard box, a cardboar box with cute puppies! And not just cute puppies: FREE cute puppies! I figured most puppies costed money, so I was in for a STEAL of a deal here. Each one was a adorable and as soon as I looked into the eyes of a pretty little beagle, I instantly new that it was mine. I knew right then: he was Frank Allan. It was like we were bonded right then and there, to be friends to the end.

However, I later found out that that puppy was already being taken. So I had to settle for the not-so-cute looking beagle next to it. I decided to stick with the name Frank Allan, named after Frankenstin my second favorite movie and after someone named Allan.

Ah, that was a great day. But now I'm worried about him. What could possibly take more than a day at the vet? I hope they call me soon. I've gone through 4 boxes of Count Chocula already, and even the Count himself would have a hard time downing that in a day.

Catch you later,
Bernard Mcarthy

I stayed home from work today... Frank Allan is not doing so good, unless "so good" for you is laying on the ground and making large smelly burps every onece and a while. Ever since he drank the 20 glasses of syrup I had left over from IHOP on Saturday, he's been making noises similar to what my garbage disposal sounded like when I tried to get rid of my Aunt Beth's fruitcake I've had since last winter. It hasn't worked since.

So it was time for a vet for my little bloated beagle. He moaned and groaned all the way there. I always thought that you couldn't get enought of syrup, but then again, I also thought that "acid free" meant the same thing as "edible", and boy did I learn my lesson on that one. Just because a marker smells like chocolate blast, doesn't mean it is chocolate. Or a blast for that matter.

So Frank Allan is at the vet for the night. I'll have to play checkers against myself. On the plus side, I can eat all the dogfood I want without him getting jealous of me. He just can't stand it when I have a midnight "Banzai! Beef" treat and all he gets is some measly Kroger brand.

Catch you later,
Bernard Mcarthy

During sunday I slept most of the entire day, becuase I forgot agian that I had changed my alarm. This time I changed it from "Nails scratching on a chalkboard" to "Thunderbolt striking a chiwawa." Even with all the zany confusion, I still had time to finish the documentary on Manitiees "The Cows of the Sea, Part 2: Why are they Named Cows of the Sea?"

Today I woke up on time becuase I remembered that I changed my alarm back to just the normal old "beep." I was starting to get angry complaints from the neighbors. I sent them some toilet paper to make them feel better. They were very nice and gave it all back to me, all over my yard! My landlord didn't like that a lot. I think he was mad he didn't get any. I gave him some of mine to make him feel better but he just yelled at me. Maybe he doesn't like Charman (is that possible???)

I got to work as normal, and sat down on the computer. Around my 79th round of Rampage, Joe walked by my office. I tried to say hi to him and then realized I had cement still on my mouth! I forgot all about it! That explaind why people kept calling me a "cement mouth." I thought it was just a new slang term or something, kinda like "dude" or "groovy".

"You are one screwed up little man," Joe said, and walked away. Joe is a funny guy.

Durring lunch break I realized that I hadn't eaten in over 2 days! This ment no hot-pockets, and no hot-pockets means no lunch, since I usually eat hot-pockets for lunch, or sometimes velveta, or sometimes pizza when it's free pizza day, or sometimes ravioli when I buy ravioli, or sometimes pancakes when I forget it's not breakfast anymore. I decided I needed to get rid of this once and for all. It was time for my trip to Speedway.

Most people have to ask thier boss to let them leave, but at my work, they don't care if I leave. This is great because sometimes I go to the amusement park or go watch a movie during work, and I still get payed the same! Joe says this is becuse I'm in customer services. So I went down to Speedway, because they always have just about anything the world has, only in one little store. I walked up to the man at the counter, whose name is Pablo. Pablo is pretty cool, but he doesn't speak English. He shouts alot at me, and sometimes it takes over an hour to buy a soda. But he is usually very helpful and not too agressive. I pointed to my cement. Lucky for me, Pablo knew just what it took to get rid of it. Where he comes from, they use it as punishment.

Pablo handed over the cure for me: Coke Zero! I smiled my best cement smile and handed him a 2 dollar bill. I pourded it in my mouth, and stood there, waiting....waiting....waiting.....almost...there............................

"FINALLY!" someone next to me yelled, holding a lottery ticket. I kept sloshing the coke around and around. I read a few magazies while I was waiting. Who knew that Britney Spears was that ugly in real life?

Eventually, that annoying cement melted away! Coke Zero saved the day! I kept the rest to clean out the toilet with.

Catch you later,
Bernard Mcarthy

It's been a wild and OFF THE CHAIN Saturday! Let me relay the exciting events of my weekend that, as previously stated, was OFF THE CHAIN!

I first woke up at 10:00 AM in my appartment, even though I had originally set it for 6:30. Normally I would jog down to the carpet store, get a few extra carpet squares and go sliding down my neighbor's compost pile on them with Frank Allan. This is a very fun activity, but people sometimes say that it is unhealthy and that rotten bananas are all over my clothes. Some people are just party-poopers!

Anyway, I was very thrown off because I forgot that I had set my alarm ring to "Nails Scratching on a Chalk Board" from "Elephant sitting on a Beaver". I finally woke up and turned off my alarm. Then I saw Frank Allan: he had been barking like crazy and running in circles! He must have really liked the loud noises of chalk board scratching alot, because as soon as I stoped it, he fell down on the floor. I turned it back on to chear him up, and sure enough, he started right back happily running in circles and barking his head off.

Then I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I poured on the tooth paste, becuase my dentist told me a few days ago that I should probablly get some white teeth and have at least one thing going for me. So I start brushing my teeth and doing my teeth brush dance when I realize that my tooth paste is a little goofy and that it tastes alot like cement. Then I realized that I forgot that I was making cement sculptures the night before in the bathroom, and that I had acidentally laid it right by the tooth paste bottle! The next thing I knew, my jaws were cemented together. I laughed because Joe at the office kept telling me to do that. I decided to call Joe right then.

Ring...
"Hey Joe!"
"What?"
"Hey Joe, it Bernard McArthy!"
"What? Bernard?"
"Yea!"
"You sound like a retarded man with sand in his mouth!"
"Cool! I cemented my jaws together!"
"What?"
"I cemented my jaws togher!"
"Bernard, can you do me a favor?"
"Kill yourself."
"Joe, you're funny! Want to hang out today? We can get pancakes!"
"Yea, I can't understand you."
"Haha! Joe, you're funny."
"Bernard, stop calling me."

Joe didn't seem to like the idea of pancakes, so I went by myself. I orderd an extra large pancake with strawberries, but the waiter gave me 23 glasses of syrup. I don't think he spoke very good english. I hapilly tried to drink the syrup any way, but the cement in my jaws got in the way. A kid pointed to me and asked my mom why I had a brink in my mouth and syrup all over my clothes. She said I was probablly drunk.

I spent the rest of the day watching a documentary on Manatees. I'm getting pretty thirsty, but I have to drink through my nose until I get this cement out. I think I might get a jackhammer or something tommorow. Frank Allan isn't doing so well either. I think he ate a little too much of my left over syrup.

Catch you later,
Bernard Mcarthy