Exploited by the bourgoise press

Life is hard. What’s a dog to do? Mom is inside shopping. Like any normal dog, I take a nap. Who’s coming by if not a photographer from the hated bourgoise press? Does he ask me for a picture like any civil person would? no. Does he at least scratch my itch behind the ear? No. The bastard just grabs his camera to take a picture of me. Could he be any ruder?

As if that in itself wasn’t enough. The bastard publish my photo. In the bourgoise press.

And there’s more. The text is nothing if not harassment and bullying. Lazy? Ha!

I have talked to my lawyer and the Godfather. They have both agreed to have a stroll over to the glass house those bastard are occyping and leave some good cables there. Inside, we will seek out the editor and demand compensation. And photographer Vegar Valde: Nordnes-mafian know where you live. Watch your back!

Just one more thing before we start all this action. A small nap…

The Borgoise Press does harassment and sniper shooting. The text translated: And here: A  representative of the breed “lazy”. While others in the pack are sent inside to get food, this bloke utilizes his time for another longed for nap.

Happy days in the countryside

One of the great things about dogshows in the countryside is all the ladies there.  And of course they will only be with me all the time. The best thing about women? They smell so good that my mouth starts to water. The worst? Sometimes the watering gets a bit excessive, so it overflows.

Sometimes the smells will overwhelm a happy boy


Hermann Friele said it well: - It is not for us from Bergen to brag. We just tell it like it is.

Well, this weekend it was time to seriously hit the ring. Against the big boys. Those who make moms  knees shiver and her voice shaky. Even though she says I’m the most beautiful of them all, I have learned there’s a difference to ending first and having to leave the ring with my tail well tucked between my legs. But last weekend I put on my most beautiful smile and charmed the Italian judge completely. Admittedly, he liked a guy called Pavarotti better, but still gave me a big Cert and reserve CACIB, which I understand is pretty good. My family has given me lots of sweets and started calling me cert-dog and stuff, so I think they were happy.

Happy mom and big brother, but I still believe the trophy was wimpy.

The Godfather raises young mafiosi

Gudfaren setter ungdommen på plass, både ute


og inne