I don't give my dog respect. Sir Poopie commands it.
The specificity avoids the embarrassing moment in the barn when somebody tries to grab them by the nape of the neck. Whoa, whoa, whoa, that's how you're gonna force me to do this? No way, pal. Not into it.
Are you concerned that you may be a character trapped in a Tom Waits song? Be smart and learn the warning signs before it's too late. Also, it's too late. It has always been too late.
I'm haunted by a recurring vision of a skeleton flipping me off. To avoid seeing this terrifying image in bumper sticker form, I pay someone with a blank bumper to drive in front of me at all times.
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.