Cat Dog
Well. Now that I have gone off the deep end on the world for not recognizing my greatness I get a positive comment. Thank you positive comment person.
I went running with Cat Dog today. Cat Dog is my parents’ dog. Cat Dog is a gigantic fluffy black lab mix of some kind. He purrs and rubs up against your leg. He also curls up on your lap (he is like 80 pounds). He is a natural omnivore – even eats carrots. When you wake up, Cat Dog bugs you until you give Cat Dog a massage. Not a petting. A massage. He leans on his stomach in this easy chair and MOANS with pleasure as you rub his back. It is completely surreal. Cat Dog has a strange relationship with other dogs. He ignores little ones and attacks gigantic ones, preferably pitbulls or rottweilers. My stepfather went out for a beer and tied him up to the table of this outdoor café while he drank.
Scene 2: Cat Dog is running down the street, full tilt, dragging about three tables, a chair, and my stepfather behind him, soaked in beer, chasing some gigantic rottweiler.
Anti-Bush political comment: I am too horny at the moment to be anti-bush anything.
So it looks like I have a herniated disk in my neck. I will corner my neurosurgeon on Monday and force him to carve a replacement disk out of my hip so I can resume normal functions. Doesn’t this sound wondrous? I think it does! I can’t wait for the first time I get laid after all this.
(drunken bimbo voice) “Wow! You are so interesting… So where did you get all these scars? Were you in the Marines?”
(Me, looking all kinds of hot in my new titanium glasses and poet outfit) “Yes. Yes I was. I got these scars when I fought as a mercenary in …Ecuador. Yes. I fought… Ecuadorian guerillas.”
“Wow! You fought gorillas?”
“Yes? I. Did.”
I went running with Cat Dog today. Cat Dog is my parents’ dog. Cat Dog is a gigantic fluffy black lab mix of some kind. He purrs and rubs up against your leg. He also curls up on your lap (he is like 80 pounds). He is a natural omnivore – even eats carrots. When you wake up, Cat Dog bugs you until you give Cat Dog a massage. Not a petting. A massage. He leans on his stomach in this easy chair and MOANS with pleasure as you rub his back. It is completely surreal. Cat Dog has a strange relationship with other dogs. He ignores little ones and attacks gigantic ones, preferably pitbulls or rottweilers. My stepfather went out for a beer and tied him up to the table of this outdoor café while he drank.
Scene 2: Cat Dog is running down the street, full tilt, dragging about three tables, a chair, and my stepfather behind him, soaked in beer, chasing some gigantic rottweiler.
Anti-Bush political comment: I am too horny at the moment to be anti-bush anything.
So it looks like I have a herniated disk in my neck. I will corner my neurosurgeon on Monday and force him to carve a replacement disk out of my hip so I can resume normal functions. Doesn’t this sound wondrous? I think it does! I can’t wait for the first time I get laid after all this.
(drunken bimbo voice) “Wow! You are so interesting… So where did you get all these scars? Were you in the Marines?”
(Me, looking all kinds of hot in my new titanium glasses and poet outfit) “Yes. Yes I was. I got these scars when I fought as a mercenary in …Ecuador. Yes. I fought… Ecuadorian guerillas.”
“Wow! You fought gorillas?”
“Yes? I. Did.”
posted by Balázsy András at 3:05 PM
1 Comments:
That was positively, sublimely absurd. And I think I know that dog. Except the guy who has him has no kids that I know of. But aside from that, I'm sure it's the same dog. He actually knocked down the fence surrounding an outdoor cafe one time, when he ran off to chase after and attack the horses pulling a wedding-party carriage.
sic (AKA the sarcastrix)
monster sarcasm rally
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