Earlier this year I crossed a boundary with the dog.

This is a different dog.
I’d eaten some godawful fried thing or another, and feeling a buildup of gas, I leaped over to the dog, crouched directly above his face, and knocked a king-size fart across his nose.
Triumphant, I turned to face the dog, expecting adoration for this generous gastric flotilla. Instead, the dog regarded me with a reproachful look, the kind I expect people receive when they jiggle their comatose grandmother’s breast for a family photo.
“What’s the matter?” I asked the dog in plain English, as though he would reply in kind. “Don’t you, a dog, enjoy the smell of shit?” Continue reading →
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Filed under Bad Influences, Don't Know Don't Care, Faint Signals, Idiot's Delight, Worst Of All
Tagged as 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, advertising, Coke, corporate crap, despair, dogs, farts, laughter, movies, music, perfume, sellouts, whores, YouTube
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