Alanna the Piranha Chapter 1

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce you to my new story. But first I must share with you that this week was most monstrous. The Maltese and I were taken in for our yearly exam and shots. It was terrifying. I was panting and barking and being touched by strangers. This sort of thing might go over well in a hedonistic music video, but it was absolute torture for me. I even let the Maltese have a piece of my mind which resulted in a most embarrassing scolding from my novelist. I had to be weighed and given a heart worm test and then of course the horrifying shots. I fought them as best I could but, in the end, I got what was best for me and I did not care for it one bit. I am, however, healthy, and spry as I should be. The Maltese, however zonked out and slept for the remainder of the day on his oh so precious pillow. Serves him right for not fighting back and getting his shots peaceably. I on the other hand am required to express my dominance over humans. Just because I’m only a tad over six pounds does not mean I cannot at least try to take charge.   

Now, for the business at hand: my new chef-d’œuvre. My novelist prefers to write in third person. However, I felt this story should be told through the voice of the lead character and so it shall be in first person instead. This story is quite a divergence from my last but hopefully you will find it entertaining. Without further ado I present to you chapter one of Alanna the Piranha.



Gigi the parti poodle

Day the First

The most important thing you need to know about me is I’m not just an introvert, I genuinely dislike people. Especially women. All my problems are because of women. I say women because that’s your word. We call the pretty ones Stacy or Stacys for plural. You know who you are. You preening, giggling, mean spirited little minxes who either ignore me, belittle me, or think I’m gay. Let’s get something straight. I don’t simp for Chads. That’s our word for buff guys women find desirable. Yeah, well I don’t simp for them. I simp for women. But women sure don’t simp for me. You know why? Because I’m genetically compromised.

See, in my world there are white pills, blue pills, red pills and black pills. This comes from The Matrix movies which if you ask me are scientifically stupid. But the pills make sense to us. The white pill is optimism like Elle, that Stacy in Legally Blonde. The blue pill is about denial of reality like Buzz Lightyear in Toy Story. The red pill is about accepting harsh reality like Peter in Office Space. But the black pill, well, that’s Man, they guy who’s dealing with the apocalypse in The Road. You’re at the end of nowhere. Your ugly, no one likes you and you will never, ever get a date. I swallowed the black pill. That’s right, baby. The black pill because I’m so horse ass ugly no chick would ever do me. And if she did do me, she’d be scrolling on her phone while we did it. Seriously. I’m that boring.

Don’t think I don’t know what you’re going to tell me next. You’re going to tell me to hit the gym, get ripped, buy some fly looking clothes from Aeropostale, or Fair Harbor, or American Eagle or whatever douche bag rip off money grubbing assclown store that popped into your head you think can dress me in a way that will magically make me able to pull chicks. And then, this is the best part, then you’re going to tell me to be myself. I ask you, how am I doing so far? You want to go get coffee with me? Huh? Not a chance. Be myself. Ha! You can’t stand guys like me. If you even notice I’m breathing in the first place.

I’ll tell you a secret. I’ll tell you why this is day the first. Are you ready for it? I quit That’s right. I quit. I got fed up. Every time I went there, I’d get more and more depressed. Hundreds of thousands of guys just like me there and not one with a date. How pathetic is that? Pretty flipping pathetic, bruh. I was there for three years. Three years of my life listening to every sad ass story in the book. How about the guy who was always friends with this girl he was in love with who one day called him gay in front of all her Stacy friends? Or how about the guy who at the age of twenty-six stacked up three million dollars and sits in his penthouse without a chick in sight? Or how about the straight guy whose dad cried when he sat down and talked about how it was okay to be gay for two hours. No more. I’m out of there. I’m pathetic but I’m not as pathetic as the guy who stays on that website for four years. Three years was enough.

So, now what? Here I am twenty-three years old with a degree in biochemistry living in my parents’ basement, jobless, bored, and lonely. How many times can I watch Star Wars IX and talk about how Abram’s screwed it up. Don’t get me wrong. VII and VIII were good but IX? Are you kidding me? IX sucked!

Anyway, now what? I’ll tell you what. I found this scientist out on the dark web. He’s selling…okay let me put this into normie terms. And no, it’s not porn or guns. Not all of us are into porn and guns. Or anime…or anime porn. A lot of us are just lonely. Anyway, I found this scientist who sells this technology that can help us reshape mankind. Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I’m going to build an android. AI if you will. Did I say I was an engineer? No, I said I was a biochemist. So, get that Ex Machina vibe out of your head. No, I’m buying a piece of the human future. And guess what? It’s cheap.

While I’m waiting, I’ve decided to take an inventory of my situation. Being on helped me develop agoraphobia. I had a seriously hard time getting out of the house on a day-to-day level. The site wasn’t the only thing that caused it, but it was part of the problem. I’ll talk about the other part of the problem later. Anyway, if I wasn’t on that site, I was in some chat with other worthless dudes like myself. About a month ago I had an epiphany. I realized I wasn’t just talking to guys like me. I was staring into a mirror. And I thought, there must be more to life than this. Of course, I didn’t want to tell the other guys. I’d have gotten my ass handed to me. Once you leave, that’s it. You’re a traitor. So now I’m an alien without any website to claim me.

Also, I’ve decided to stop eating junk food. My skin has cleared up a lot these past thirty or so days. Today I looked in the mirror and I almost didn’t recognize myself. Except that I’m still a completely worthless dude. I’m just a completely worthless dude with clear skin.

I’m thinking of getting a haircut too. My hair is down past my shoulders. I think it’s been a year and a half since I’ve gotten a haircut. I’m thinking of getting a trim at this place where the stylists all wear bikinis. I must have been living under a rock not knowing it existed. So, yeah. That’s happening.   

But mostly I’m sick of being a burden on my mom and dad. Especially my dad. My mom’s a douche. Like I said all my problems are because of women. My sister isn’t much better. She’s younger than I am, and where I lost the gene pool she won. Chads are always chasing her. Even her name is Stacy. Isn’t that ironic? Life is kinder to women than it is to men. She’s on the dance team at the university. Does all these routines at the basketball games. You’d think she’d throw me a bone and introduce me to one of her fellow squad members. You know what she does instead? She tells them she’s an only child. Can you believe that? An only child.

Anyway, today, day the first is the first day of the end of me being a completely worthless dude. Or at least I hope it is. I’ll just have to wait and see what happens when that package arrives.

My Books

You can check out my books Chicane and the five installments in my Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!Musicology: Volume Three, Twist!Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! and Musicology: The Epiquad on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. You can also check out Musicology’s web site at and vote for who you think will win Musicology!!!


This week’s movie is an HBO original and was nominated for Outstanding Television Movie. It lost to Dolly Parton’s Christmas on the Square showing that this year the feelers beat the thinkers in this category. Based on the Tony award-winning play by J. T. Rogers, Oslo is based on events which happened in 1993. Mona Juul, a diplomat of the Norwegian Ministry and her husband, Terje Rød-Larsen, director of the Fafo Foundation, after seeing firsthand the war torn horrors between Israel and Palestine, work together to create a neutral, private location in Oslo for a small group of Israeli and Palestinian officials and representatives to draw up a document for peace between their countries. This has been an impossible feat for decades as both sides have demanded things to be done immediately. But Terje and Mona believe that if both sides agree to do this in a slower, more carefully thought-out manner and meet each other’s enemies face to face they just might be able to accomplish the task. Especially since all other countries worldwide have abandoned helping them out. This is a wonderful, gorgeous looking film that appeals more to the mind than the heart and it may come across as too intellectual for some audience members. That said it is a riveting fact-based story that more sophisticated film aficionados may enjoy.

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