Monday, June 30, 2008

Dogs 384-388

You can't get a dude like this to care too hard about it being wet outside. Not when he's already wearing his raincoat. If you hadn't pointed it out to him, he might not've even noticed.

Shut up, shut up! Not a word! Just sit here and don't make a god damn sound, because whatever this elected official is thinking about is approximately eight hundred fifty-seven thousand times more important than whatever bullshit you were about to say, and if you interrupt his concentration, we might wake up tomorrow in a world where potatoes are poison and babies are eating other babies just to make themselves giggle.

When you forget your ID, but your other pals have already gotten into the club and one of them has your car keys, you've got basically no choice but to make the best of it and try to create your own fun.

Listen, buddy, just because I never actually saw "Let That Be Your Last Battlefield" doesn't mean you get to make me feel fucking guilty about it, okay?

Probably one of the best things about owning a dog has to be that eternal fuzzy optimism. Honestly, who else is going to greet you like you're about to have the best day of your lives every single time you see them? Even for the richest man on Earth, that has got to be one short-ass list.