I Think My Boyfriend Is An Irish Ninja Chipmunk
In the long standing tradition of the ancient Martial Arts, I should not be relaying this story. I risk life long imprisonment. But it is a tale that must be told.
It was the relentless barking. The yipping. The constant ear-piercing noise coming out of a tiny, spaz-tic rat-like thing. Others called it a dog. We're still not sure if that's what it actually was.
It was a quiet afternoon when "BOB" (code name) was standing near the chihuahua in question. No other person was in sight. And the pestiferous cacophony coming from the other room was penetrating through his ears. As peaceful and Zen-like as he was, being trained in the ancient Martial Arts and Buddhist Monkery, his patience was wearing thin.
In his cat-like way, he glided down the darkened hallway towards the incessant vociferation emitting from the furry foe in the other room. In one quick, swift movement, he was face to face with his opponent. This chihuahua was even more hideous than he ever dreamed. And the shrieking and sounds of hell coming from the very depths of this demon hound's tiny body kept boring into BOB's medulla oblongata, causing him to slightly lose his composure, but for a moment.
BOB then closed his eyes, inhaled, exhaled and took in all his power of the ancient Samarais. He opened his eyes, looked down onto the tiny satan spawn, and locked stares with the little dog. Abruptly, the little thing gasped, eyes wide open and ultimately dropped to the floor. Heart attack.
My Irish Ninja Chipmunk. Adorable as always.
