Johnny Boy Marketing

Ya know what pisses me off? Dees numbnuts who say dat der dogs or cats are der “fur babies.”

Gimme a frickin’ break.

So I was walkin’ down da street dee udder day with my girl Alice, and I see dis woman pushin’ a stroller. Now, Alice is fine, lemme tell ya, but dis woman? Dis woman was Fine wit a capital F, if ya know what I mean. She had it all togetha. Da legs, da face, da body .. Madone!

But I can’t play it like dat in fronta Alice, ya know? I mean, dat would be rude and disrespectful. Screw dat!

So we’re passin’ dis woman on the street and I casually says, like I just says, I says, “Nice day for a walk with ya baby, idinit?” And ya know what she says to me? Ya know what she says? She says, “And ya fur babies.”

Screw dat! What da fuck is a “fur baby?”

So I look down in da stroller, I looks down der and whadoIsee? I see a fuckin’ dog. Dats right. A dog, all tucked in under blankets and wearing a sailor’s outfit and shit.

So I look at dis woman, I look at her, I look at her and I says, “Ma’am… what da fuck is dat?” Cause, yeah, it looks kinda like a dog, but it was all runty and nervous and twitchy. I’ll tell ya what it looked like. Wanna know what it looked like? It looked like a big rat on meth.

So dis beautiful woman, dis woman looks at me all offended and she says to me, she says all snooty-like, she says, “Excuse me, sir, but it’s my fur baby. Raising her is just like raising a child.”

For a few seconds, I couldn’t tink of a ting to say to dis woman. I mean, I know some people out der are just stoonads and you can’t say anyting to make dem see da real ways the world woiks, ya know what I mean? It makes you a stoonad if you even try. Screw dat!

So I turn to Alice and I tink, dis is what I tink, I tink, “Thank da Holy Fatha dat I’ve got dis beautiful woman in my life and no stoonad who’s tinking a dog is a human kid, ya know what I mean?” And I’m ready to just walk away, ya know… to just walk away and forget dis little encounter even happened, but no, of course not. Now dis woman’s gotta bust by balls, she’s gotta bust my balls and she gets all angry and says to me, she gets all loud and says, she says, “Excuse me, sir, but I love this fur baby just like anyone loves der child!”

And den I just can’t stop myself, I just can’t, so I says to her, I look her right in those eyes of hers and says, I says, “Excuse me, lady, but da last I checked, I couldn’t’ve put Paulie Jr. in a fuckin’ cage when I wanted ta go down to da store to hang wit da fellas, now could I?”

But I wasn’t done. I was pissed off and getting that thud in the side a’ my head like I get when I’m gonna go into one a’ dose black-out tings I get sometimes, so I know I need ta just let it out and say what I gotta say, so I says to her, I says, I says, “Lemme ask you a question, lady. Lemma ask you somethin’. Dis dog-thing got its balls?”

She actually stepped back like I’d just told her dat her husband was messin’ around wit two or three goomahs insteada just one. And she says to me, she says, “Of course I have responsibly neutered my dog. I am a responsible parent.” Screw dat!

So I says back to her, ya know what I say? I say, “Here’s what I know, lady. I know dis: I know dat I sure as hell couldn’ta cut Paulie Jr.’s balls off to keep him from gettin’ around to every Italian girl in da neighbahood.” Because Paulie Jr.? He’s got a little reputation around da neighbahood for being kinda a tomcat, if ya know what I mean. “Ya know what woulda happened to him if I woulda cut his balls off, lady? He woulda been beaten like a salami by his fellas for being a, whadoyacallit? One of dem euchres or somethin’.”

So now dis lady is really pissed off, but I ain’t done, so I says to her, I says, “And furthamore, lady,” cause I was tryin’ to be all proper like she was bein’, so I says, I says, “And furthamore, lady, I can’t seem to remember one time where I put out a bowl of my mutha’s pasta on da floor for Paulie Jr. to eat.”

Dis lady was so pissed off, as pissed off as I usually am, but I wadn’t done, so I says, I says to her, I says, “And let me ask you anutha question. Let me ask you dis… where’d you get dis dog ya got in da stroller?”

And she got all uppity and was like, she was like, “My dog, sir, is a pure-bred malti-poo from one of da top breeders in the country,”

I tell ya, I tell ya dis, I tried… I tried hard not ta laugh, but I tell ya, some tings are impossible, so I laughed my ass off right in fronta her, and den I says, I says to her, I says, “Lady, lemme tellya somethin’, cause ya need to hear dis. When you have a human kid, you don’t get to pick. You get a mutt, just like everyone else gets a human mutt when dey have a kid. You got no frickin’ clue whatyagonna get.” Cause Paulie Jr.’s a good kid, but he’s also got some defects, if ya know what I mean.

Dis woman was turnin’ all red and stuff, like an apple I would give to da teacha if I was tryin’ ta, well, dats for anutha day, but I figured, hey, dis lady’s gonna drop dead right here on da sidewalk from a heart attack or somethin’, so I says all calm-like, I says, “Lady, fur babies ain’t no kids. Now you have a nice day.”

Screw dat!

And den Alice and I? Alice and I? We just walked away down tha sidewalk.

“Pissed Off” Paulie Magnotti has worked heavy construction for the past 35 years. He lives downtown and spends his free time on the stoop with da guys from Da Old Naybahhood. When he and da boys go out, he likes to drive his mint-condition yellow T-top 1981 Camero.

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