Answer me this... Why do the poorest, dirtiest people you see (at least in this part of the world) always seem to have a dog for a pet. I mean it's got to be hard enough finding shelter, food, booze and crystal meth for yourself, forget about stuff for the dog. How do you split it up?
"Let's see, I've got 3 moldy potatoes, a bit of rancid beef and some dirty water from a storm drain. What's Patches gonna eat?"
Of all the women you see this time of year, why do the fat ones always wear the spandex?
Lets be realistic, does nobody have a mirror anymore? Do you not notice that you have to stuff your cellulite into the legs on your shorts like a chef stuffs a turkey? Except the truth - Diet Coke is not the answer to your problem, put the hot dog down and go for a jog.
Or a run.
Or a walk.
Just not to the Dairy Queen.
No comments:
Post a Comment