After months of trying to conceive with one of the stray neighborhood bitches, the seed finally took. In an unrelated note, my housemate discovered a batch of puppies the other day. They are five in number and dialed up to eleven in cutelisciousness. Unlike their vagabond parents, the are not that skittish around people. I took some time to pat two of them yesterday. Eventually they all started playing around, trying to squeeze between the slats of a fence and stumbling over each other.
Their names are as follows: Grendel, Scruffy, Calvin, Billingsley, The Gooch, and Tilapias.
Warning: these puppies may have Asian Dog Flu.
I have re-adjusted my desire to twist the heads of the two neighborhood dogs. They still howl every night in a prolonged and brain penetrating way. They still get into our garbage. They still sleep in the street as living speed bumps. They still look tattered and diseased. But any parents of something so cute don’t deserve to die.
Also: new MEATLAND image.
A former boss who is obsessed with his youthful good looks.