My second-last post, a post ago, before dis one, LO deez many sleep twitches ago, I…
I forgot. Damn the floorpedoes! I’m talkin’ bout kittehz, doncha know— well, mostly.
No, I donut have any kittehz here, and what da HELL dat got to do wiff it? Some kittehz have applied for spankuary here, but I donut let ‘em in, cuzza the floorpedoes. Reminds me of Suck-Eye Sid, a cat who, if you caught his eye, would run up and stand on your chess and— nurse on your eyelid. I kid you knot. Suck-Eye Sid, where are you now? Well, I ain’t kiddin’, I toll you.
Y’know, speakin’ of goat assho, Klown Shhlub is a real stamp up kinda guy… Everwhere he goes, bidpeds and Guard Dogs stamp up and shout all kindza bitchings— (an you fot I was bitchy!? Well, yeah, it’s true, I yam bitchy, I wag freely.)— about democrazy and freedump and central blanking digital carpentry… I donut WANT nails in mai brain, fangk you Klown Bald-O (you nuffing like Bruce Willis ( I LIKE dat Bruce), Schlob Butt. Klown Schlug— Klown Town, Squawk of the Town Klown, Get Outta Town, Klown! You NOT Santa, Klaus! You ANTI-Santa, Klaus! You a meanie, Mr. Grinch-Klown! You a 15-minnit GhostTown, Klown.
Donut make mai brown eye blue?!?!
We got enuff schlugs in WA State for ALL y’all— lemme git mai furry assback to Texas anyday now ya stinkbug conventioneers! Iffn only I hadda good horse, coupla bucks… and nobuddy likes German sausages like U and yore Nasties. Y’all Creepazoid IckyLips Undickified Cogsugger Miss Anthrope and Herr Wildass Sodomights wiff crickets and worms n shit on top, stob talking, stop planning our chippage, just STOB being in mai fates, I donut like you on the Web, I donut like you wiff a head, I donut LIKE YOU, Klown-I-Am, I donut LIKE green bugs and scam, or shish-ka-BUGS…
And to add anudder BITCH to da kennel, I past my Big Ass Driver Dog Exam, and it’s hard stuff!! Now wow wow, I got no work for FIVE DAZE as mai biscuit. And I remembled mai human suit and everting! Am I full tine after dat? I donut know. I yam wondern if I did all dat and now I gotta find MO job. I need a podcast, yuhnno, cuz I am funnier in SOUND. I haff to bark mai head arf all aloooooone in mai doghouse (imagie a tiny, tiny dog on an even tinier violin). And I yam gettin a LOT of telemarketing all over da floor today. And what else to doooo butt write a lot of Doggish dribble.
SURFEY: How many of y’all fink…?
Dat I saw two shits passing in the night.
Dat we all hab a Raisin d’Etre.
Dat I step inside and walk dis way.
Dat Stunted Klaus is coming to cows.
Dat habbiness is a warm gum.
Dat we guantanamera.
Dat we all gonna be 15-minute silly…
I donut know WHY ever time I comment it says "Arthur" on there...
It should say "ARFER." Am I write? Am I ripe.
The Raison reason for me. Raisons.
And not the kind the tiny dogs leave either,
the real ones, of which I have some, and so
there must be cookies soon, this wedder so cold,
its gettin quite old. I hope the pilots doing
the weather mods are all jabbied up, that
will help with thinning their ranks. RANKS!