My commitment to him and my commitment to you, to always do what’s best for this dog.
Hey, Carol. I guess you breed your dogs a bit larger where you come from.
Adding a bit of style to his current condition which I am apparently not allowed to joke about.
My new nickname for the poet who lives in the basement.
“When I tried to write happy / Yo I knew I lied, I lived a life of crime / Why play ya blind?”
When he heard this news he took a huge shit right next to my bedroom door.
Your angry email should have the words “dew claws” somewhere in the subject.
He should be glad that I didn’t buy any nipple rings during my travels.
If Mormons did genealogy on dogs they’d trace Chuck back to Tanzania. And then have him baptized in the name of his ancestors.
He knew this would happen when he saw what I’d brought the girls from Africa.