DogMan. Imagine if I you had to eat the same thing for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, every day for your whole life. I don't mean you get to eat the same hamburger and fries for every meal and wash it down with a coke. No. I'm talking about you having to eat oatmeal flavoured cardboard pellets every single freakin' day of your life.
Welcome to my life.
Every morning I wake up and I smell something delicious. Might be eggs one morning, bacon the next. Even might get the nice aroma of cow's milk with a hint of cocoa emanating from that DogMan dog-bowl you lift to your mouth using those bionic thumbs your former master was nice enough to buy you.
I sprint up the stairs from my steel prison, waiting to see a nice Never Neverland feast in my steel bowl. And what do I get? A Never Neverland feast in my bowl. DogMan?! Seriously. Do I look like I can imagine good tasting food like Rufio and Peter?
I won't even bring up lunch, because most times DogMan eats something he puts into that radioactive box. If he wants to lose his testicles by eating nuclear food, that's his business.
Dinner.
Ah, yes. Dinner. That thing where you get to eat all those fancy smelling animals. Chickens. Cows. Fish. Rabbits. Monkeys. I don't question what you decide to fry up, I just want me a piece of whatever you're frying up on that heat machine in the kitchen.
I don't really ask for much, do I DogMan? I know at times it seems like I want to kill you with my FMDs (Farts-of-Mass-Destruction), but that's just love, DogMan. My way of showing affection is attempted murder in your sleep.
You know what? I'll even cook, DogMan. I just ordered a full-body dog hairnet off the internet using your credit card. Actually, it's not really a hairnet for dogs, but one of those full-bodysuits those Michael dogs used when they were training for their matches. For some odd reason, the one I ordered had teeth marks in it. Ah well, it still works.
Welcome to my life.
Every morning I wake up and I smell something delicious. Might be eggs one morning, bacon the next. Even might get the nice aroma of cow's milk with a hint of cocoa emanating from that DogMan dog-bowl you lift to your mouth using those bionic thumbs your former master was nice enough to buy you.
I sprint up the stairs from my steel prison, waiting to see a nice Never Neverland feast in my steel bowl. And what do I get? A Never Neverland feast in my bowl. DogMan?! Seriously. Do I look like I can imagine good tasting food like Rufio and Peter?
I won't even bring up lunch, because most times DogMan eats something he puts into that radioactive box. If he wants to lose his testicles by eating nuclear food, that's his business.
Dinner.
Ah, yes. Dinner. That thing where you get to eat all those fancy smelling animals. Chickens. Cows. Fish. Rabbits. Monkeys. I don't question what you decide to fry up, I just want me a piece of whatever you're frying up on that heat machine in the kitchen.
I don't really ask for much, do I DogMan? I know at times it seems like I want to kill you with my FMDs (Farts-of-Mass-Destruction), but that's just love, DogMan. My way of showing affection is attempted murder in your sleep.
You know what? I'll even cook, DogMan. I just ordered a full-body dog hairnet off the internet using your credit card. Actually, it's not really a hairnet for dogs, but one of those full-bodysuits those Michael dogs used when they were training for their matches. For some odd reason, the one I ordered had teeth marks in it. Ah well, it still works.
Furnet. LOL
ReplyDeleteIf Rhodee could cook, she'd have beef fried in bacon with a side of tuna and pumpkin sprinkled on top. For an appetizer.
And a cheesy sock for her main course.
ReplyDelete