Those Who Don’t Get US…..

Originally posted on Sheep Rants:

Some people obviously have not caught the sheep bug. Apparently, you would rather allow others to run riot over you, than to have some of us speak for you. You must understand, sheep are not going away anytime soon. We are here to stay.

It is and always has been our position that humans need an advocate to discuss issues they cannot or will not discuss openly. They fear reprisals, worry employers will fire them, or family might disown them. This is the advantage of being a sheep. We are animals. You cannot expect us to sit back and watch humans make asses of themselves and not speak up. We worry about you all. We see you do things, or have things done to you and want to help you.

We like the challenge of taking to task those whom might otherwise try to silence you. We will not be…

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Sheep Transfixed Over Paula Deen…

Originally posted on Sheep Rants:

Oh My, one of our own has gotten herself into a dither. This is something deep frying, gobs of butter and calories can’t fix, or can it? As it stands now, she has been skewered in the media, sauteed, slow roasted and deep fried. Our sympathies. One of our sheep did something similar a while back and we had to totally send her into therapy.

The things we do in our past come back to haunt us, especially if it is something that pertains to others, or in this case sheep. Bertha got herself into a bind not long ago when she used the “C” word in a deposition. Nobody used that word and comes out unscratched. Apparently back in her youth, she got into a scuffle with a feline who managed to get a piece of her fur. Bertha being the wild woman she is, faught back, bipped this…

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Sheep Go Rogue On NSA

Ok buster, you have forced the sheep to take the gloves off. Nobody spies on the American people except SHEEP. Sheep observe the human species to teach them valuable lessons. YOU spy because you are conducting a witch hunt. There is a very big difference.

If sheep did not observe you all, how would blondes know how to use an ATM? We know, its not nice to pick on the mentally challenged. But we have seen way too many blondes trying to use the ATM like a slot machine. No Gertrude, you cannot win from an ATM. Oy, you cannot fix BLONDE.

And we try to help the male species from hooking up with gold diggers. Yes guys, they are the ones who are barely out of high school, wear toilet paper dresses, and shoes they cannot walk in. Yes, they sport that fake blonde hair, contacts, and implants that could chip a tooth. They are also the ones who cannot speak a word of English, but get their hooks into you and you into them, and then you are royally stuck with them. Can you say they want your money and a GREEN CARD? HELLO.

And we try to help the young males so they don’t end up embarrassing themselves while meeting the parents for the first time. If papa bear approaches you and offers you a drink, say NO. They want to see how drunk you get and how you would like to ravage their daughter while snockered. Or, if they ask you if you have any weird habits, please refrain from discussing the adventures with the bleach bottle, the mop you tried to get it on with while drunk. Oh we know you all better than you know yourselves. And for god sakes, do not discuss her mother. Do not leer if there is cleavage or the remote chance of sneaking a peek. That has ended the lives and father hood of more men than we sheep care to count. It is one thing if we end up fixed, but you can avoid that altogether.

Sheep are really here to try to help the population. We know gold diggers are looking for that piece of the ROCK as in Gibralter. The Canary Islands just won’t do, nor the Gallapagos. They want that chunk of ice that set you back to the dark ages.  They want to have bragging rights at high school or college reunions. If they are not sporting the latest chunk of ice, or the hot male with the bank account of a Rockefeller, forget it. They do not want you.

 Now that is the kind of thing we sheep are here for, that and to discuss the issues of the day that some of you bad boys and girls in DC insist on inflicting on the American people. We and only we can do so in a manner that gets the point across with humor. Could a journalist really get by discussing WIKKI leaks as we have without becoming a target? Don’t think so. Could we let people like Michelle Bachman, or Paul Ryan, the NRA, or Todd Akin know they cannot force religious agendas on the public under the guises of political agenda? No again. We for sure cannot remind Barack he is there to support the American people, not set them back, nor spy on them. Well, we are, but in a way only sheep can get by with.

Oh come on NSA, must we have to use Bertha and Puppy to make our point? Ok, you asked for it. Bertha is getting out her little black book of names of senators whom she has had a proverbial romp with. She is prepared to give the full details on who likes produce, who is into the whips and chains and who likes hookers. Black mail? Oh, this is just a sheep discussing her adventures in the boudoir. Free speech, her ability to live the life humans are allowed under the constitution. Then there is Puppy who already has a long list of who likes to have a romp with carrots.

Puppy is sitting in his chair, legs crossed, smoking a pipe and looking at his yellow pad of paper complete with names of those who are into squash, who like melons, and who, well, like little boys. He has a long memory. Unlike many, he is able to go incognito and spy on the unsuspecting senators or congress who have a bad habit of discussing issues in public. Who is going to look at a dog and think, that canine is spying on me. We were prepared to blame cats for this, but decided to save them for when we need them.

You all are not as suave. You just do not have that je ne sais qui that sheep have. You assume you are being so sneaky, yet you were outted by a mere mortal. You really have to learn the fine art of observance. That is a skill many want, but few actually succeed in. But we are not about to give away our secrets. Trade secrets of sheep, sorry, not up for grabs.

Humans seem to respect us, even enjoy our ability to make spot on observations. They know we are fully respectful of their rights and civil liberties. We do not need to go to the internet to spy on them, that is what every day life is for. We don’t want to know who is using peanut butter in the bedroom. Bertha says whipped cream is a lot less messy. Thanks for that one Bertha. We don’t need to know that you have vices. Don’t we all? Or if your neighbor is schtooping the secretary. We already know that.

If you are going to spy on someone at least have the decency of knowing how to do it. That is what cats are for. All those times you have shooed them off the couch, or your new pants? They have long memories, and take notes in ways you could not dream of. Those evil eyes they give you? That is telling you they are prepared to write a tell all if you don’t let them sleep in bed with you.

But you insist on using means that have to have negative outcomes. Such amateurs. Bertha has seen better. In a previous life we suspect she was a relative of Mata Hari. She is shimmying into the room naked. Ok girl, that is a bit much. Now she is giving the middle paw. Really? I guess some humans can’t take a joke. She has warned, if you insist on spying on her be prepared for a full moon. Puppy has stated if you think you are going to spy on him, he will pee on your leg. Hey, you didn’t expect them to high five you did you?

Hey, we are prepared to do what we must to protect the privacy of others. We don’t care if your mother likes her scotch, or if your two gay neighbors are throwing a gala. We don’t even care if they want to have drag races in the white house. You assumed we didn’t know about those didn’t ya? Bertha knows all about them. She knows who has a penchant for woman’s clothing and who wears it well.

Look, if you are going to spy on Monica, we are going to spy on you. If you are going to discuss the mating habits of your constipated brethren, we are going to go rogue and out you all. Fair is fair. You can’t expect us to remain silent. Sheep just won’t do it.

Ah the satellites are buzzing, the internet is causing crashing and the cocker roaches are going dormant. They do that when they are about to be caught. Remember Water Gate?Sheep do. Daniel Ellsberg’s office break in. That was nothing compared to this, you all have gone too far. You crossed lines sheep won’t touch. We know the fine art of observance for a common good, humor even, and just out and out spying to out anyone who speaks out against you. Sheep are not dumb.

Remember, Bertha is watching you. Are you listening Mr. Obama? 

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Bertha Has the Flu..So do You….

You would think that sheep are immune to things like colds or flu, but we are not. Like you when sheep get sick, we really get sick. Our fur goes flat, and we go sheep. Bertha is suffering from a bad case of flu. She is sitting spread eagle in her Papasan chair, and because she has a high fever, it makes her legs come a part. Thankfully this is happening in her home, and not in someone’s office.

Bertha, how are you feeling? She is hacking up a fur ball, and snarfing. Oops, she let one fly. We will excuse you for that. Her middle paw just went up. When Bertha gets sick, no amount of chicken soup will help. This girl gets full on funk, and requires serious maintenance. Such as you might ask? Well, a simple bath is not going to cut it. It just makes her fur go natty. Then there is the issue of her needing her nose done. The Netty pot almost drowned her the time she tried to use it. When she tried to use decongestant sprays, it just made her toot. Don’t ask the girl to try to use anything pink. To do so is asking to see aliens in the toilet. Instead, she sits on her balcony and lets em loose. Apparently there is something about letting it all hang out that gives her that feeling of pro secco, a bit bubbly and a lot sweet. It has caused numerous visits to the ER for sprained necks, blindness, and black eyes. Not hers, those who chose to stop and stare. If she decides to go full frontal, or dare we say it, bend over? Riot gear is needed.

For now, she is sitting on her balcony with her nose stuffed with tissue, a cold pack on her forehead, an eye mask, and a humidifier to keep her fur from going haywire. Throw in her long cigarette holder and slim cigars and she is the epitome of the grand dame. Her not now, I am not in the mood attitude is present, along with touch em and you will get a clog in the clapper. Noises only a sheep could make can be heard from outside. Blowing her nose becomes bellows frightening the area cats. Her tummy is filled with nocturnal beasts waiting to pounce on her. In short, the woman has the flu. As she wheezes from the Kleenex, she emits a high pitched whine. Since sheep don’t swill medicine like humans do, all she can do is wait this out, attempt to ignore the symptoms and try to get on with her life. Alas, humans can’t miss her.

A loud belch is heard as she pats her tummy. Was it something you ate dear? Again with the middle paw. Realizing her breath wreaks of snarl she goes to the medicine cabinet to down some eau de Chartres. Now it wreaks of lavender and snarl.  This could be a long night folks. The girl is not up to her usual antics. Though watching her go through this is amusement in itself.

In fact, she has turned off her cell phone, computer and tablet. She has parked herself on the couch to watch her favorite programs. One in particular makes her tear up. No, its not a tear jerk er, she gets off on watching Some Like It Hot. Pointing to the screen, she spies Marilyn’s fur coat. Taking notes she taps on her computer until it hums back on.  Bertha,you have that coat. Why the tears? She is pantomiming memories of her nights with Artie. For those who don’t know Artie, that is the one who got away. Escaped is more like it. Evidently when he ran out screaming about his eyes, she had been wearing that coat and nothing else. He didn’t know she was a sheep. In his drunken stupor, he assumed she was just another drag queen. From what we hear, screams of “what the hell?’ could be heard for blocks.We digress. Well Artie, the hooves and snarl should have given that one away, along with the bow legs and buck teeth.

Bertha is giving the paw to that coat. She is stomping around the room and her Kleenex is hanging on for dear life. We can’t tell if the natty hair is from her fever or her anger. She is such the drama queen. Girl get over it, he probably would have wanted kids. Dragging herself back to her bed, she is now trying to fall asleep. We should leave her so as not to disturb. Good Night Bertha.

Humans, you could take a few clues and realize that as bad as you feel when you are sick, sheep go through the same things. At least you all get to take bubble baths without the risk of getting it caught. You can take medicine to dry you up, drink the pink stuff to aide your stomach, and sip things that have bubbles. Bubbles just make us sneeze more. Don’t get us started on those throat things you suck on. Bertha fell asleep with one and it ended up in her ear. Poor girl was deaf for a week until it melted. The other one ended up in that place nobody discusses. For a week, we were watching her squirm.

Our advice? Take two sheep and call us in the morning.

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cruisepuppy7452a:

For anyone who ever had that wild New Years Eve I think this will bring back some fond memories. That is, if you are a sheep and into produce. Enjoy!

Originally posted on cruisepuppy7452a:

Bertha rang in 2013 as only she can. The woman went wild. She is sitting on a chair looking like something the cats dragged in, literally. Bertha, you went to a New Years party? She is looking at me with that just get it over with and kill me already stare. Did you get drunk? Puppy is pantomiming the entrance. You got out of the car and got your dress caught up in your garter belt? She is looking at me and rolling her eyes. Puppy is doing his best Sharon Stone impersonation. You flashed everyone. She is looking at me again with that look of utter disgust. Puppy claims she hadn’t started drinking, but with Bertha you never know. Puppy is again making gestures to try to explain her wild night.

 The senator showed up? Were people staring at you? She is mouthing the words women used to describe…

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Sheep Ring In 2013 Sheepstye….Oy The Horror, My Eyes!

Bertha rang in 2013 as only she can. The woman went wild. She is sitting on a chair looking like something the cats dragged in, literally. Bertha, you went to a New Years party? She is looking at me with that just get it over with and kill me already stare. Did you get drunk? Puppy is pantomiming the entrance. You got out of the car and got your dress caught up in your garter belt? She is looking at me and rolling her eyes. Puppy is doing his best Sharon Stone impersonation. You flashed everyone. She is looking at me again with that look of utter disgust. Puppy claims she hadn’t started drinking, but with Bertha you never know. Puppy is again making gestures to try to explain her wild night.

 The senator showed up? Were people staring at you? She is mouthing the words women used to describe her wild entrance. Oh MY! They called you a common terrier? Girl what were you doing in that limousine? She is winking at me with one eye. Did you go after that senators wife again? She is making hand gestures. Puppy claims she was not trying for a threesome but somehow, things got out of hand and before you knew it? It became a slap and tickle session, only somehow Bertha managed to escape. Ok, spill it, who was in that car? Puppy is looking around, whistling, and trying not to look too guilty. Puppy, did you sneak in there? There was produce? You used produce to bribe a senator for a vote? Puppy is snickering. The man could not help himself. You dog you. Bertha is looking at him and shaking her head. So Bertha what happened after you got your dress caught?

Bertha is lighting up one of her extra long cigars, as she opens up about the night. She entered wearing killer high heels, a dress with a slit down to there, and tried not to fall out. Well, the tape did not hold em in and of course there she was flaunting them for all to see. One man dropped his champagne glass and another yelled out…”Bravo!” At this point she had now flashed everyone in the room, from both ends. Other women would have been mortified, but not our gal. Bertha took em out and began to swing them. The dress made an extra slit as she began to do her best  peepshow impersonation.It was on. Bertha now controlled the room. Men began to approach her with their wives giving them a sharp slap. That had Bertha hot and heavy. One guy offered her his glass of champagne, and as soon as she took a sip, out fell her dentures. The man began to gag. She tried to put them back in but somehow they ended up upside down. Now she just looked like a drunken sailor out on leave. A man gracefully offered her his handkerchief and she fixed her mistake. But did that stop the old girl? No way! She grabbed champagne, the man and off they went to a corner. Screams were heard, and so was moaning, but Bertha insists it was not from her. She is shaking her head. He was a crier? She is looking at me as if to say…what a loser. She dismissed him and went on to target number two. Bertha how much younger was he than you? 15 years? She is winking. The term cougar came to mind, along with a dirty old bag. You tangoed with this guy? Define tango exactly? Wait, we might not want to know.

Bertha is grabbing the rose in her teeth, and snapping her fingers as she sashays across the room. I knew that look. The girl was a smitten kitten. He knows you are a sheep right? He didn’t care.Did you tell him you can’t have kids? He said they could adopt. Did he know you are also a wild woman who can’t be tamed? She claims that just turned him on even more. She said he tried to undo her corset and she had to give him a swift bite. Assuming that would be the end of it, she tried to escape. The kid would not give up. Doing a dance move she lifted her leg and gave him a swift kick in the clapper. Still it was not enough to get this hormone raging teenager off of her. Finally puppy broke in, grabbed her and made a swift exit. Just as she was pulling herself together from that nightmare, she heard a breathless whisper in her ear. The sheep was in no mood for another Lothario.

“Mind if I cut in?” he asked in a suave voice? It was her stalker, the very one who followed her around the world, and made her swoon. But by now her lashes were falling off, she was a sweaty beast and smelled of snarl. That did not seem to bother this guy. He always liked that Mediterranean look. Bertha was so shocked she swallowed one of her eye lashes. She bent over to try to cough it up, but ended up looking as if she was doing other things. An old woman walked by and screamed at her. “You swine, couldn’t you wait until you got home to do that?” Bertha began to gag making it look as if she was ignoring the old bat. Finally she gave a loud belch and up it came. The old bat was mortified as she assumed the worst. Bertha raised her middle hoof and looked her in the eye. The dance of the eyes was on. Bertha walked around her and the old woman followed her. It was almost a tango. Before anyone could stop this mess, Bertha lunged at her and it was a cat fight sheep style. Bertha ripped off the old gals wig, and vice versa. Men were cheering, some were throwing money. A New Years eve party and a cat fight, what man could ask for more? Cheers of Bite Her” and “Oh man I know that had to hurt” could be heard across the room. The old gal was a tough beast. As Bertha began to rip off her bra, yells of “Put it back on her” could be heard.  The fight was broken up to groans. Bertha came out of it looking as if she had been on an all night drunk. Literally. One man offered her a cigar and asked if it was good for her too? She winked at him, blew smoke rings in his face and pat his face. Puppy b this time was engaged in other activities with strange women he had just met.

Noises of “ah sweet mystery of life at last I found you” could be heard coming from their direction. No telling what that was about and puppy won’t discuss it. Bertha knew. Turnips, they do it for him every time. It goes without saying the two were ushered out of the event with a ban on both. Now to Bertha this just means the party was a success. They sat and swilled champagne in the limmo, both skunk drunk and as they entered the house, sounds of regifting could be heard for hours.

Sheep hope your night was just as eventful, fun, sweet and filled with happiness. But we do hope you were able to do so without produce.

Happy 2013

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Sheep take on the NRA and Candy Nazis…..

Where to begin, so much material, so little time. The NRA asked for it and now we are going to go rogue on them. Ahem, Senior psychopath,  police and FBI must be able to refer to that register to avoid future killings. What part does he not understand? This is not produce we are talking about, they are weapons that kill. Guns, not squash, though we have heard of people getting things caught in their nether regions. But nobody ever died from squash, entrapped rodents maybe, but that was only when the little buggers felt they could not find a way out. That became an intense situation. There was a lot of crying, some people screamed, and we heard the humans were not too happy either. But we are getting off track. Actually we are not, some of the same people who might abuse rodents and produce could also abuse guns. Could you imagine someone who has already abused the produce, getting it caught getting angry and going on a shooting spree? Until the little guy came out, and we don’t mean that way, the rampage could be severe.

When did you ever recall anyone having such issues with turnips, or carrots? Pineapple we might be able to see, as it can cause irritation, but few people die of a rampage with produce. If on the other hand, you get escapees from a ya ya ward, or say grandpa who didn’t get his nightly prune juice, you might have issues. Even in such cases sheep see the need for a register for those who carry concealed produce. It is not an invasion of privacy or their second amendment rights if someone else could be injured. Can you imagine a forced pruning? Or worse a rogue fruiting? Then there are the issues with those who might carry a loaded melon. Oh the possibilities sir.

You cannot have people walking about ready to take on the nearest or weakest links. That just makes for more crazies on the loose. It does not cut down on the rogue attacks, won’t reduce the need for the bleach bottle by junior. The police and feds must be able to identify anyone who purchased produce and rodents. They have to be able to know if grandpa got his meds and is not a candidate for company D. Junior who could be going through hormonal issues, or those of inadequacy, should not be able to have access either. And pre menopausal females or shemales, it goes without saying. NO means NO.

But if you sir would rather have these crazies carrying in grocery stores, or malls, churches, ready at any time to take out the nearest supply of celery, or racks of designer attire, or those who buy them/ The meek, unsuspecting, non carrying members of the NRA, or KKK, the normal who dare to be different? If you insist on violating their rights to safety from freaks who need to get their rocks off from things that go boom? You sir are a cad.

Sheep like things that go boom, but not like that. We like crackers at Christmas time, champagne for those aha moments, pretty things that light up the sky on the fourth. Bertha loves those. But nothing that could harm others. Sheep won’t have anything to do with them or thing that could harm others. We just can’t support it or you. We will back the police and FBI who see the need for such records but you or yours? No. Even puppy who is and has been a life long produce carrying member of society says he can’t back you. While the age old image of the grand dame carrying a gun in her garter belt may seem sexy to some? Remember, today, its just dangerous. Bertha is not about to sport that look, even if a Kardashian might. No telling if some Lothario gets the hornies and demands action. That would be the kind he did not ask for.

As for you candy Nazis who now refuse to allow kids to devour a lifetime old habit of eating candy cigarettes? We have this to say to you, actually Bertha is mooning you. Girl, we hear ya on that one. I think kids can tell the difference between something that tastes like insulation and dirt and something that is sweet and crunchy. Unless you left your tobacco in your nether regions? We don’t think so. Trust us, kids can tell the difference, and no Gertrude, it won’t make them take up smoking.

Like we said, so much material, so little time. If sheep have to go to these places, you know we are pissed off. Are you listening?  

We have a few choice words for the head of the NRA,

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