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All I wanted was to be left alone. It wasn’t that much to ask. I didn’t want sympathy or help or your free cheese. Just to be left alone. If you had let me be, none of it would have happened. Don’t blame the sleeping dog if you go and poke it with a stick. Dogs are dogs. They don’t appreciate being poked. If you get your ass bit off, good for the dog.
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book list stuff frogs reviews mail links Pitney salami=freedom © |
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Dogs are dogs. You can’t change them. Sure, the young ones can be trained. Throw a bone and watch them roll over. Big deal. They’ll also hump a chair leg, geniuses. The young ones don’t know the difference. But don’t try it with the old ones. There’s nothing like a true cliché. It isn’t that the old ones aren’t smart enough to learn anything new. It’s just that they know a chair leg when they see one. If I had been a dog you can bet I wouldn’t be fetching anyone’s shoes, either. If some prick tried getting me to fetch his shoes, I might piss in them. No, I’d definitely piss in them. Actually, now that it’s come up, I don’t think shoe-pissing ought to be the exclusive province of canines. There are some people whose shoes I’d like to piss in right now. Not that I’ve actually done such a thing. For the record--because posterity deserves a full, accurate account of my experience, and outlandish accusations are probably already being thrown about--I never pissed in anyone’s shoes. There’s no need for exaggeration--I stick to the facts. I’m a little ashamed to admit that this is the first time pissing in a shoe occurred to me. There were some very deserving people, and all of them owned equally deserving footwear of one kind or another. Get the whole story.
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book list stuff frogs reviews mail links Pitney salami=freedom © |
