The Porch Potty may be for dogs, but I’m guessing at least one fraternity has this on their porch for drunken party pissers. The premium model only costs $279, which is the cost of, what, three pre-date rape dinners, some cab fare and a morning after pill? Worth it!

Pet portraits printed from the ashes of your deceased pets? It’s Jeffrey Dahmer meets QVC. The only thing that could make it more disturbing would be if the segment were hosted by Steve Buscemi and Michele Bachmann’s eyes.

First World Problem: Your tiny dog has no lap to sleep on while you’re at work.

sdfadf

Badder World Problem: I sold your tiny dog to a disreputable meat distributor while you were at work. If you want to see him again you should probably swing by McDonald’s for a Happy Meal.

Via Buzzfeed.

I can’t wait to wrap my kitty cat up in this adorable bear skin rug. She’s been pretty chilly ever since I skinned her for our cat skin rug.

For the sake of this exercise, please pretend that this astronaut-lookin’ motherfucker is a very tall Pomeranian.

Pound Control to Major Pom
Take your heartworm pills
and put your collar on

Pound Control to Major Pom
Commencing countdown,
Leashes on
Check submission
and may Dog’s love be with you

This is Pound Control
to Major Pom
You’re ready to be spayed
And your papers have you cleared for dental care
Now it’s time to leave the shelter
if you dare

This is Major Pom to Pound Control
I’m scratching at the door
And I’m barking
in a most obnoxious way
Because I cannot wait to get away

For here
Am I pissing in a cold crate
Far from a dog park
The shelter’s loud
And I really have to poo

Though I’ve chomped
one thousand rugrats’ hands
I’m feeling very bored
But my new owner knows which way to go
Tell my bitch that she’s in heat

She knows

Pound Control to Major Pom
Your owner’s bleeding,
And you’re gone.
Can you hear me, Major Pom?
Can you hear me, Major Pom?
Can you hear me, Major Pom?
Can you….

Here am I running
round my neighborhood
Far from all you dicks
before I ran from you
I pissed on your favorite shoes…

.

Dog Peek via the foxiest She Wolf in town, Dani Stover

This is the strangest gynecological exam table I’ve ever seen. How are you gonna get your speculum all up in that dude’s junk when he’s not fully reclined? And how are you gonna get your speculum all up in that dude’s junk when he’s got dude junk? More importantly, why did they draw this guy like he’s strapped into stirrups, wishing he’d waxed his balls for his pap smear?

.

via Creede Fitch, whose name will punch you in the neck.

I haven’t seen a pussy this angry since I vajazzled myself with Super Glue. But I, too, would be pissed off if you forced me to run around in a cheap, fugly, misshapen clodhopper. Been there, done that. It was called “the 90′s,” friends, and we’re lucky we made it out alive.

cat torture device via Incredible Things

I’m smarter than your honor student, like music, voted for someone three elections ago, have uninformed opinions and  a witty comment to share. And when I’m not driving my car, I want to make sure you can get all that just by looking at my dog. That’s why I’ve been stapling bumper stickers to her ass. Shhhhh. Don’t tell PETA.

It’s nice to know that somebody loves their dog enough to buy it this fancy-pants bed. I, on the other hand, love my dog this much.

That’s the dirty sock I let her sleep on when she’s not pulling me around the apartment on my custom-built house-sled.

PS – While writing this I was overcome by the feeling that I’ve written this exact post before. It’s either that or gas, I’m sure of it.

I like that this dog dish comes with a lid so the dog is all, “Whatever could it be? Foie gras? Beef Wellington? Why no, it’s Alpo. Thank you so much  for delicious dinted can of crap, Bitch.” And then the owner says, “Who you callin’ a bitch, Bitch?” And then in a twist of irony they cat fight to the death. TO THE DEATH.