Fetch *THIS*   by Bob Grubb I know plenty of peeple what has cats and I've tole you

you go over their house
and their dawgs has their nose either in yer crotch
or following ya around sniffing yer butt at extreme close range
and their owners will tell you
how their dawgs is like their children
and yer thinkin
if this dawg was a child
he'd prolly have asthma or some shit like that...

and then they makes ya watch em tell the dawgs to do their tricks which they never do and they say "oh Rover aint rollin over cause he's not used to company" and it's like well yeah how the hell is this dawg gonna roll over

I'll tells ya why cause who the hell wants to come to yer place and be the object of yer freekin dawg's oral sex fetish I aint into that whole beastallowity trip no matter how many times I surf the freekin werld wiped web... anyways I wanna talk about this "man's best friend" thing if you think havin Skippie lickin yer crotch when yer tryin to watch football makes him yer best friend your taking this whole best friend thing to extremes... really it should be "man is dawgs best friend" cause peeple what has dawgs

make yer own freekin caption

whilst Buster the bulldawg is squattin down doin a dump outside of Denny's and then - THEN - when the dawg is done leavin an All-American Slam on the freekin sidewalk they say "good dawg!" like they taught the dawg how to take a crap or some shit...

I tell you it really sucks to be strollin outta Denny's
with the part of the order you couldn't eat in hand
and findin some guy on his hands and knees
scoopin up a double order of refurbished Purina into a dawgie bag...

and if they don't scoop it up a cop can give em a ticket
I wonder what the hell they PUT on this ticket?
"Yer dawg shat on public cement" I spose...

so the cop aks you to hold the bag while he gives the dawg's owner a ticket
and spose the owner disputes this - does the cop take the pile fer evidence?
how can he prove the contents of that pile was dumped by Buster?
some kinda thing like a breath analizer I spose
and do they hold the evidence for a freekin month awaiting trial?

"yer honor this guy let his dawg poop in a public area and dint clean it up" and the judge is like "what does the defendent have to say fer hisself?" and Buster is like "arf arf" and everyone laughs cept the owner cause the owner knows that "arf arf" and if Buster runs over there and starts humpin Judge Judy's leg all hell's gonna break loose...

but then the guy's lawyer stands up
and says "yer honor I object"
and Judge Judy is like "on what grounds"
and Leonard Schraypit Esquire
of Schtepsin, Schraypit, and Hoezitoff Law Firm
whose motto is prolly "We can get yer dawg off"
and who, by no coincidence
never gets invited to watch football with his dawg owning frinds
is like "the evidence has been stampered with"
and the cop is like
"yer Honor, the bag has been sealed since the alteredcation"
and pointing to you he says, "besides, I has suppeenied this witness"...

so they open the bag
and it's full of an order of hash browns and two sausages
so it's like the bags musta been switched
when you were asked to hold the bag
and yer thinking dayam - I thought that sausage tasted weird
so the whole case is thrown outta court...

and as yer leaving, here's the same guy whistling away
watching the freekin courthouse pigeons
whilst Buster conducts some more illegal dumpin...

	lil chewowows what specialize in shakin and lookin like they be ready to have a siezure
		retrievers with characteristic bad breath what will go get anything you throw and bring it back to you which sucks when yer tryin to toss the bag of dawg shit away
pit bulls what will just attack you and eat yer liver if they even suspect you're gonna make em go outside so they can't pee all over yer freekin couch
	bassett hounds with short lil legs trippin on their ears and draggin their oversized calloused testicles along the sidewalk

but prolly the werst is them lil sissy french pootles...

these so-called "dawgs" has been so inbred over the years that they're totally relient on humans they refuse to walk ya has to pick em up and carry them around hell they won't even shed their own freekin hair ya has to have em trimmed like they're a freekin hedge or some shit like that they don't eat anything but caviar and escargo and werst of all they can't even shit properly...

GIGO

a friend of mine was moanin the other day cause she has to watch her Mom's french pootle once a week and if ya just let it take a dump on its own instead of pickin it up and squeezin it like a tube of toothpaste then it always has shit all over its ass that gooey caviar and escargo kinda shit stuck all in its pom pommed rear parts so she has to wipe the dawg's ass and if she don't then it drags shit all over the house...

so anyways we're all over her house watching the game
and she's goin on and on
bout how SHE aint gonna wipe this dawg's butt
and how it's just gonna have to stay outside
till someone else does
and I'm thinking well DAYAM
why don't ya just break out the high pressure hose
and give this dawg a long distance enema?
or why the hell don't someone just teach Fido how to scoot?
or maybe just get some spacklin compound and plug that freekin hole up once and for all...

anyways these pootles are so freekin helpless they can't even sniff yer crotch unless ya hold em the right way...

that's why they has to run without momentum they just fall over so I splained to her that takin this kinda dawg outside on a leash to make the drop could be strenuous I mean they has to get a running start and then yer runnin behind em hurdlin turdlettes gotta run all around the block

a stalled out greyhound

I spose as gas prices rise and more and more places enact these scooper laws yer gonna see attorney's stop chasing ambulances and start stalkin peeple walkin their dawgs...

you always see these movies
where the handsome young man is walkin his dawg a
and the pretty young lady is walkin her dawg
and they meet in park
and the leashes get all tangled up
and the two peeple fall in love and shit...

well that's just what you call a metafor
we has all seen what really happens in real life...

some ol guy is draggin his basset hound thru the park and the basset hound is draggin his balls and some ol lady with blue hair is squeezin out her pootle over a freekin hedge and then the dawgs see each other and start barkin and the ol lady see's the basset hound's balls and drops her pootle from the fright of that and then the bassett hound makes that whoopin noise they make when they run cause their balls be draggin at high speed and he (the dawg) dives into the hedge and starts "teachin the bitch some new tricks", as we say in more polite circles, and the ol lady is beating the ol man over the head with her half full dawgie bag and the ol man is shielding hisself with his scooper, and next thing you know the dawgshit squad is called in to hose down the ol hedge and break up the ruff sex and the ol cupple is forced to exchange dawgshit insurance information...

now there's a job that's gotta suck
a dawgshit insurance claims adjuster
I mean what if the freekin dawg has a comprehensive policy?
I don't wanna go into the details on this
but imagine yer a dawgshit insurance claims adjuster
and to make sure no fraud is involved
(you'd be surprised how many peeple buy and *use*
that fake dawg poop thing you see advertised
in the back of Lawyer's Digestive magazine)
you has to inspect the claim...

hell that's gotta suck even werse than
when yer at a friends house watching a game
and someone aks you what you do fer a livin
and you say you sell dawgshit insurance...

you ever get cornered by one of these guys?
"we can give you a comprehensive policy
with a 500 pound (US) deductible"
and yer forced to aks questions like
"what happens if my dawg becomes incapable of wipin its own ass?"
and "do i get a discount if my dawg is equipped with a testicle belt?"
and "what if there are no Denny's within walkin distance of my residence?"...

hell, from what I has seen on the werld wiped web he should be paying YOU to get yer dawg off... the bottom line is this, dawg owners yer sacrificing all yer pride to be involved with dawgs and the most you can expect in return is someone to point the finger at to explain that noise at the dinner table.