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May 28, 2010 / lionelbean


J really shouldn’t let me climb into the internet and run around like I’m off-leash at the T-Bell. Why? Because I find shit like this.

Oh, Frank Lloyd Wright designed your den? Fuck you. I sleep on a $4 Ikea blanket covered in dried snout mess, bits of my teething bone and drops of teething-bone-related blood.

I know the important things in life aren’t material things; they’re the rubs of the belly, they’re the new assholes that – when you put your face in them – surprise your senses; they’re, well, they’re the treats.

And yet, I’m pretty sure I would tear up Ms. P’s best pair of riding boots for a single blissful night in one of these palatial dens.

Especially if this freaky mutt-eyed bitch was part of the package.

My carrot’s getting wet just thinking about it.



Leave a Comment
  1. Jacquelyn / Jun 10 2010 3:46 PM

    Oh my, hahaha, I love that Lionel is back.

  2. lionelbean / Jun 11 2010 9:35 AM

    Lionel never left! It’s the blogs that got small.

    Thanks for the belly rub. Any treats?

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