“By the time my puppy has finally calmed down, it’s time to leave. ‘Do you wanna shit on my rug first?’ she asks Whisky as we make our way to the door. ‘Do you want to take a shit on my pillow, and I’ll just thank you for it because you’re cute?’ She leans in close and whispers in my dog’s ear: ‘You’re a faggot.’”—I miss my dogs.
“Shortly thereafter, my puppy decided to urinate on the shag rag. ‘You motherfucker!’ she says to Whisky in a mock-angry tone. ‘You did it this time asshole!’”—
I didn’t spell Whisky wrong. It was the owner’s doing.
An article on Sarah Silverman’s show going on a third season and her new book, “Bedwetter”, included bits and pieces of Sarah interacting with the author’s new puppy. It resulted into the funniest shit you could ever say to a dog.
My mom is preggers. A NEW BOY in the family. Everyone is happy. We are also consequently gaining weight with her. I for one, stopped eating. Kidding. (John will kill me if he finds out).
Anywho, I stay up to do stupid pointless shit on the internet. It’s always around midnite or later that my mom wakes up from her sleep, hungry.
Just now she said “I want something to eat but don’t know what.” Sure. Since she is uber short, she asks if I could reach the pop tarts for her. These pop tarts were hidden for a reason. I hid them for a reason. If there were ever the opportunity to throw any junk food away, I would do it without hesitation.
I tell mum that there was a reason why the box was put up in such a high place. She says they should stay down.
"They have zero trans-fat."
No, mum, they are still bad for you.
Even if they are low-fat.
They are is a selling joke.
I want you to tell me that you’d jack off to this box.
How wrong does that sound? Pretty wrong but that’s exactly my point.
Only fat people with no good intention of living will eat this lie.