Part II: Dog of Destiny
Sing of dog from unknown parents,
Raised by mystic human species
Takes the ways of his adopter,
Even eats with fork of plastic.
Begs for scraps of roasted chicken,
how he craves that roasted chicken,
never knowing the betrayal
Of his dear farm-time companions.
Sing of dog so anxious skittish,
How he fasts when he's left unwatched,
How he rolls upon his belly,
Bares the tufts of goat-gruff belly,
To all passers-by submissive.
Ye who love the beasts of Nature,
Love the creatures' happy panting,
Love the eyes pleading for petting,
Wagging tail makes body wormish.
Ye whose hearts are fresh and simple,
Who have faith in beasts of Nature,
Know each furry, fluffy bosom
Contains longings, yearnings, strivings.
Angry and hopeless Trump voters take heart: there is a man who is out for justice for America.
People can't stop talking about this Donald Trump character. He's said a lot of crude and hateful things over the years, and demonstrated a tremendous lack of judgment, discipline and decency. If you ask me, he's not fit to be our president. In fact, he's not even fit to be mayor of Buffoontown.
Nightmares Fear Factory is BACK, baby!
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.