klaivu is part of the crew, part of the ship, and part of the reason I'll never own a dog again.
Like Chuck D before him, NAG wonders: Is your Lord a God, or is your God a dog? His answer seems to be "both."
Something happened to Mustard Snobbery on the way to heaven.
Otik couldn't have a dog of his own, so he had to invent one. It was the most unusual dog.
Shoes for pidgeons presents the softest nightmare to ever doggy-paddle its way into your subconscious.
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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