Ragtime Piglet: Hey Hitlerdog lets dance!
Hitlerdog: Nein! Dancing is for artists and homosexuals!
Ragtime Piglet: Aww c,mon Hitlerdog kick up your Sunday shoes.
Hitlerdog: Get on ze train! Dancing is forbidden!
Ragtime Piglet: What about the time you hopped around when Paris was captured?
Hitlerdog: Oh well I guess that was fun. Hey, this isn't half bad. WEEEEE!
Ragtime Piglet: Conquest isn't everything Hitlerdog, you need to have fun sometimes because life is too short to get stressed out.
Hitlerdog: I have seen the error of my ways and will live the rest of my life in peace painting pictures of windmills.
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
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