Remember me?
I was the ORIGINAL party animal. I was on TV all the time. My name was known from coast to coast. People would see me walking in the street and yell, “Hey, Spuds! Party on!” as I did my business on a fire hydrant.
You must remember the commercials! There were these hot chickies standing above me, wearing these low-cut spangly dresses, saying “Spuds Mackenzie is the original party animal!” They sang “Go, Spuds, Go, Go Spuds Go!” Then I’d do a dozen beer bongs.
(I didn’t have much interest in those girls, though I tried humping one on the leg, and after that, she wouldn’t take my phone calls.)
Those were the days. I went to A-list parties, the Super Bowl, and got to sniff all the butts at the Westminster Dog Show. I was on the top of the world. Everybody knew who I was, even kids!
(Speaking of which, I want to set a little matter straight. All those charges that the beer companies used me to market beer to children…come on! I’m a pit bull, for God’s sakes! I bite children! So what if they thought I was cute. No kids wanted to drink beer because of me. And if they did, that Bud Light stuff is just piss. It would take a six pack for a 70-pound girl to get a buzz.
Also, I didn’t crap in the President’s limo.)
Bookfraud, this very strange human who called my agent, said he wanted a blog from someone who we haven’t heard from in awhile, and that Vanilla Ice, Corey Feldman, and Tama Janowitz weren’t available. Hadn’t heard from me! I was insulted. Spuds hasn’t gone anywhere. He’s just readjusting his career priorities, that’s all.
I decided to turn the tables on that dog and beat him at his own game. I looked at “Best American Short Stories” and “The O. Henry Awards” collections from the early 1990s, about the same time I was at the peak of my fame.
Everybody wanted a piece of me!
You know what? I hadn’t heard of any of them! Since I’m an illiterate dog, that would make sense. But I had someone read the names to me, and I noticed that some people kept appearing in them: Alice Munro, Joyce Carol Oates, George Saunders.
Then I checked out “Best American Short Stories 2005,” and guess who was in it? Alice Munro, Joyce Carol Oates, and George Saunders. But nobody else from the early 1990s, writers who even Bookfraud had to admit he barely recognized.
Then I went way back and check out award-winning writers from the 60s and 70s, and even if you’re a English professor, you’ve never heard of these guys. Forget about it. They’re even more forgotten than Joe Camel, that asshole.
These books and writers were considered the best, but nobody’s reading them anymore. And if they’re still around, those writers aren’t publishing many new ones.
I decided to get even more ambitious, and check out the best selling works of fiction of 100 years ago:
1. Coniston, Winston Churchill (An American — not the British dude who looked like a bulldog)
2. Lady Baltimore, Owen Wister
3. The Fighting Chance, Robert W. Chambers
4. The House of a Thousand Candles, Meredith Nicholson
5. Jane Cable, George Barr McCutcheon
6. The Jungle, Upton Sinclair
7. The Awakening of Helena Ritchie, Margaret Deland
8. The Spoilers, Rex Beach
9. The House of Mirth, Edith Wharton
10. The Wheel of Life, Ellen Glasgow
The human said he’d heard of Edith Wharton and Upton Sinclair, but the rest? You know more about who came in last in the 1973 Kentucky Derby than the rest of them. I’d bet all the territory I’ve marked on my life on it.
I thought that 1906 was a bad year, what about 1956?
1. Don’t Go Near the Water, William Brinkley
2. The Last Hurrah, Edwin O’Connor
3. Peyton Place, Grace Metalious
4. Auntie Mame, Patrick Dennis
5. Eloise, Kay Thompson
6. Andersonville, MacKinlay Kantor
7. A Certain Smile, Françoise Sagan
8. The Tribe That Lost Its Head, Nicholas Monsarrat
9. The Mandarins, Simone de Beauvoir
10. Boon Island, Kenneth Roberts
Maybe you’ve heard of “Eloise,” a children’s book, and probably Simone de Beauvoir, because she was in love with some famous bug-eyed French dude. And “Peyton Place” got made into some skeevy flick, and someone told me that some celebrity blow job magazine just did a profile on the author.
Know her?
But have you read “The Tribe That Lost Its Head,” or maybe “Don’t Go Near the Water”? I hear that “Auntie Mame” and “Andersonville” were famed in their time, but what about now?
And have you ever heard of Kenneth Roberts, Nicholas Monsarrat, or Grace Metalious, who sounds like the name of a Christian heavy metal band? Didn’t think so.
Like some people’s unexplainable preference for Lassie or Rin Tin Tin, I’m sure that these nice humans have some fans to this day. But fame and awards are fleeting, I can tell you that from experience. If you don’t the love the work behind being a celebrity, you should get out of it, fast.
It was great being a party animal — the booze, the babes, the steak bones — but those goddamn frogs came along, and everybody suddenly forgot about Spuds!
Bookfraud says the same thing about writing. He’s got this pitiful blog to generate what he hopes will be fame and fortune, but he tells me that hasn’t materialized. He writes fiction for “fun,” though that sounds like a crazy way to spend an afternoon. My idea of a great day is scoring some bitches and hanging out in the dog run.
I don’t know why any sane human would become a writer. We all want fame and fortune, even us canines! You’d think that you would pick something better to reach your goals, like bank robbery or gambling.
But I feel for Bookfraud. I really wish I could be famous again, instead having to deal with my issues, one day at a time.
Aw, screw the AA shit. Gimmie the beer bong!
Have ya ever noticed how you’ve never seen Michiko Kakutani and Spuds McKenzie in the same place at the same time?
I’m just sayin’…
Hey, by a strange coincidence, my idea of a great day ALSO includes scoring some bitches and hanging out in the dog run.
Who knew?
Have ya ever noticed how you’ve never seen Michiko Kakutani and Spuds McKenzie in the same place at the same time?
I’m just sayin’…
Have ya ever noticed how you’ve never seen Michiko Kakutani and Spuds McKenzie in the same place at the same time?
I’m just sayin’…
Hey, by a strange coincidence, my idea of a great day ALSO includes scoring some bitches and hanging out in the dog run.
Who knew?
Hey, by a strange coincidence, my idea of a great day ALSO includes scoring some bitches and hanging out in the dog run.
Who knew?
You are aware that Spuds McKenzie is female and had puppies right?
The only Spuds i’ve heard of are the ones you eat!
I feel rather ignorant, not heard of one of those authors or books from 100 years ago. However i am familiar with Simone de Beauvoir, and a few of the other books in that 56 list.
Don’t Go Near the Water is a fun read…
You are aware that Spuds McKenzie is female and had puppies right?
You are aware that Spuds McKenzie is female and had puppies right?
brian f.: now let’s be nice, even though i think that a comparison to me is a good thing.
madame d.: let’s meet at the dog park later today. i’m particularly fond of a raw pig ear.
doublebagger: all that about me being a bitch and having puppies…lies, all lies!
michelle: you’re not the only one who is unfamiliar with most of the books. some of these writers were probably famous in their time, like me, spuds mackenzie. now look.
bernita: actually, i am happy to hear this. even if the books of 50 years ago are not taught in schools or widely read today, that mean they’re not worth reading.
Damn.
PS, I had a stuffed Spuds when I was little.
The only Spuds i’ve heard of are the ones you eat!
I feel rather ignorant, not heard of one of those authors or books from 100 years ago. However i am familiar with Simone de Beauvoir, and a few of the other books in that 56 list.
The only Spuds i’ve heard of are the ones you eat!
I feel rather ignorant, not heard of one of those authors or books from 100 years ago. However i am familiar with Simone de Beauvoir, and a few of the other books in that 56 list.
Don’t Go Near the Water is a fun read…
Don’t Go Near the Water is a fun read…
brian f.: now let’s be nice, even though i think that a comparison to me is a good thing.
madame d.: let’s meet at the dog park later today. i’m particularly fond of a raw pig ear.
doublebagger: all that about me being a bitch and having puppies…lies, all lies!
brian f.: now let’s be nice, even though i think that a comparison to me is a good thing.
madame d.: let’s meet at the dog park later today. i’m particularly fond of a raw pig ear.
doublebagger: all that about me being a bitch and having puppies…lies, all lies!
michelle: you’re not the only one who is unfamiliar with most of the books. some of these writers were probably famous in their time, like me, spuds mackenzie. now look.
bernita: actually, i am happy to hear this. even if the books of 50 years ago are not taught in schools or widely read today, that mean they’re not worth reading.
michelle: you’re not the only one who is unfamiliar with most of the books. some of these writers were probably famous in their time, like me, spuds mackenzie. now look.
bernita: actually, i am happy to hear this. even if the books of 50 years ago are not taught in schools or widely read today, that mean they’re not worth reading.
That picture at the table (poker, roulette?) is terrifying. It’s the hair! Agggh! My eyes!
And Spud is very well spoken for a dog who continually hits the beer bong, I gotta say.
wow, spuds, i can just hear van halen on the radion and see meatheads driving camaros
props on the tama janowicz namecheck
wow i guess i’m really showing what a youngin’ i am when i admit that i have no idea what ANY of that was about. i feel like i’ve missed out on so much!
jordan; i also hope you had the spuds 6-pak keychain for kids.
courtney: i’m rolling craps there. the hair is scary, even i can tell that.
i have amazing tolerance. all those beer bong shots are like candy.
phoenix: stop that about van halen and meatheads! you’re making me nostalgic.
what’s a namecheck?
dora: you’re making me feel really, really, really old. and yes, you missed out on a lot, like awesomely bad hair and fashion.
Damn.
PS, I had a stuffed Spuds when I was little.
Damn.
PS, I had a stuffed Spuds when I was little.
hahaha not really really REALLY old. probabaly just one really. anyway, i’d rather be from a generation of bad hair than from one that’s going to destroy itself within the next ten years.
That picture at the table (poker, roulette?) is terrifying. It’s the hair! Agggh! My eyes!
And Spud is very well spoken for a dog who continually hits the beer bong, I gotta say.
That picture at the table (poker, roulette?) is terrifying. It’s the hair! Agggh! My eyes!
And Spud is very well spoken for a dog who continually hits the beer bong, I gotta say.
wow, spuds, i can just hear van halen on the radion and see meatheads driving camaros
props on the tama janowicz namecheck
wow, spuds, i can just hear van halen on the radion and see meatheads driving camaros
props on the tama janowicz namecheck
wow i guess i’m really showing what a youngin’ i am when i admit that i have no idea what ANY of that was about. i feel like i’ve missed out on so much!
wow i guess i’m really showing what a youngin’ i am when i admit that i have no idea what ANY of that was about. i feel like i’ve missed out on so much!
jordan; i also hope you had the spuds 6-pak keychain for kids.
courtney: i’m rolling craps there. the hair is scary, even i can tell that.
i have amazing tolerance. all those beer bong shots are like candy.
jordan; i also hope you had the spuds 6-pak keychain for kids.
courtney: i’m rolling craps there. the hair is scary, even i can tell that.
i have amazing tolerance. all those beer bong shots are like candy.
phoenix: stop that about van halen and meatheads! you’re making me nostalgic.
what’s a namecheck?
dora: you’re making me feel really, really, really old. and yes, you missed out on a lot, like awesomely bad hair and fashion.
phoenix: stop that about van halen and meatheads! you’re making me nostalgic.
what’s a namecheck?
dora: you’re making me feel really, really, really old. and yes, you missed out on a lot, like awesomely bad hair and fashion.
hahaha not really really REALLY old. probabaly just one really. anyway, i’d rather be from a generation of bad hair than from one that’s going to destroy itself within the next ten years.
hahaha not really really REALLY old. probabaly just one really. anyway, i’d rather be from a generation of bad hair than from one that’s going to destroy itself within the next ten years.
Spuds (or at least his owners) probably made more money from residuals than most of the writers you listed ever did from being published. And google sez: Spuds MacKenzie is a she, and she died in 1994. So, I guess we won’t see Spuds on any Animal Planet celebrity reality show.
Spuds (or at least his owners) probably made more money from residuals than most of the writers you listed ever did from being published. And google sez: Spuds MacKenzie is a she, and she died in 1994. So, I guess we won’t see Spuds on any Animal Planet celebrity reality show.
Spuds (or at least his owners) probably made more money from residuals than most of the writers you listed ever did from being published. And google sez: Spuds MacKenzie is a she, and she died in 1994. So, I guess we won’t see Spuds on any Animal Planet celebrity reality show.
I have this sneaking suspicion that all those writers we don’t recognize were the John Grishams, Dan Browns, Danielle Steeles of their day. I’ve become convinced that there has never been an age where the world was populated by an abundance of discriminating readers.
I met a guy I dated in college because of a Spuds t-shirt.
dora: funny, people said about destroying themselves a few decades ago, too.
plus, i am really old. you forget to count in dog years.
neil: i am proud to have donated 10% of my earnings to the aspca and the brewers’ defense fund.
as that (much repeated) falsehood about my being dead for 12 years and being a female, do you believe everything you read on the internet?
quinn: you mean that humans never read great books en masse? i find that hard to believe.
mariemm3: i sniff (which is how i discern things) that there is more to this story than you’re letting on to. naturally, a spuds t-shirt is a great reason to date someone, but there must be another reason. did he get you sloshed with bud lite?
I have this sneaking suspicion that all those writers we don’t recognize were the John Grishams, Dan Browns, Danielle Steeles of their day. I’ve become convinced that there has never been an age where the world was populated by an abundance of discriminating readers.