HaloDog69: Daaaamn, son. Look at that. Imagine that thing clapping.
Drewfus: I am getting crazy boners looking at this fine piece of bootycake.
HaloDog69: Hells yeah cut me off a slice of that I'll put the frosting on it.
Drewfus: I want to get up on that bootay like a drowning sailor climbing on a life raft.
HaloDog69: No way man you got to wreck that ass like a scud. Blow it up like a Madrid subway.
Drewfus: I would drive my train up that butt.
HaloDog69: Now you're talking!
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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