Did you ever dream that you were a dog agility super champ except then it switched and you were at some germy, grungy, derelict seaside park in the dark and the carnies were actually drug addled zombies that were shambling after you with hammers and their big teeth? And then as you're trying to escape your way out from under their oily, horrible claws by clambering up a rat infested palm tree, you're all, this is about dog agility like, how?
3 comments:
"If you don't eat yer meat, you can't have any pudding. How can you
have any pudding if you don't eat yer meat?"
Yes, a little Dark Side of the Moon would be sorta nice right now (or The Wall).
With all this rain and my disintegrating fascia boards, I don't need no 'nother crack in the wall, thanks.
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