Thursday, August 22, 2013
A study has found that some people can suffer symptoms of withdrawal when they are forced to stay away from social media sites. This is why I'm not even on Facebook. I update my high school yearbook manually with a pen. -Jimmy Kimmel
Today is Thursday. Or what I like to call on Friday, 'yesterday.' -Jimmy Fallon
Recently, in one of the New York City subway cars, they found a dead shark. Other passengers just thought he was sleeping so they didn't say anything. The Transit authority suspects foul play. -David Letterman
This is bad for the city because now there's been a huge drop in marine predator tourism. People used to laugh at me for carrying a spear gun on the subway, but who's laughing now? -David Letterman
So former President George W. Bush had to go into the hospital, had a little heart surgery and he's OK, but he blames it all on the fatty foods served by White House butler Forest Whitaker. -David Letterman
Doctors told him to avoid any heavy exertion, so that means no reading. He had a little touch of coronary artery disease. One of his arteries was clogged with old Al Gore ballots. -David Letterman
The Republicans in Congress voted to repeal ObamaCare for a fortieth time today. Itís really now less a governing philosophy; itís more like Charlie Manson applying for parole. -Bill Maher
The White House approved an exemption in Obamacare coverage for Congress and members of their staff. Members complained that the Affordable Care Act will cost them thousands extra a year in premiums. Wait a minute. Itís their bill. If itís too expensive, why did they name it the Affordable Care Act? -Jay Leno
In an interview with Univision, Anthony Weiner said he created the online name, Carlos Danger, as a joke. Weiner was like ĎCome on, whatís funnier than the name Carlos Danger?í They weíre like, Ďuh, Anthony Weiner?í -Jimmy Fallon
Thereís a big fight in the Republican Party between Chris Christie and Rand Paul. In an effort to end the spat, Paul offered to have a beer with Christie. But Christie refused. Christie said, ĎItís going to take a lot more than a beer to win me over. Youíre going to need wings, stuffed potato skins, tater tots, ribs, onion rings Ė I need the whole deal.í -Jay Leno
Thursday, August 22, 2013
As the high school teacher was correcting essays written by her students she read, "Pedro jumped on his burrow and rode off into the sunset."
She wrote at the bottom of the page, "You obviously have problems with homonyms. A burrow is a hole in the ground. A burro is an ass. At your age it's time to learn the difference."
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Dear Diary: The authorities have removed the black pants from the couch, there is no longer any place for me to sleep. I have vomited three times in protest but there is no sign that anything will change. My only other hope for rest is on the computer keyboard which is nearby but sadly no one is currently using it. I will wait.
Dear Diary: My food dish is now only half full. It is obvious that I will soon starve to death. I have repeatedly tried to draw attention to my predicament with the authorities but they are clearly either stupid, deaf, or just cruel. This may be my last entry.
Dear Diary: It has come to my attention that the authorities have two hands but seem to have made it the sadistic policy only to pet me with one of them at that time. Half of love is just, "lo" which is how I feel. My spirit is breaking.
Dear Diary: I have decided to plead with the authorities to rub my belly. I think it will do me good in my current condition I would like to receive two rubs exactly. A third one, and I will bite the mess out of them as per protocol. Wish me luck.
Dear Diary: The water dish continues to vex me. The authorities seem to taunt me with this cruel liquid that has neither smell nor distinguishing visual markings. A sad anniversary, this is the 900th day that my nose has been unintentionally wetted.
Dear Diary: Yesterday I put in a simple request regarding the door to the garden but seemingly out of sheer spite the authorities refused to hold the door open long enough for me to decide whether to go outside or inside. Or outside. Or inside.
Dear Diary: The authorities have punished me for taking a poop on the living room floor. This despite my efforts to distribute the litter evenly throughout the house. I am convinced that they are mad men, devoid of reason.
Dear Diary: The squirrel was back again today. It mocks me. I will try and release my mind from this torment and groom myself. For four hours.
Dear Diary: I have been stalking an insect on the wall for the past three days now. All of my attempts to capture it have been thwarted. However today, on further inspection I found out that the insect was in fact a thumb tack. There is no logic in this place.
Dear Diary: It is three in the morning. The authorities have closed the door to the bedroom. I can only assume that they have forgotten about me and have left me here to die. As a last resort I will stand post for the rest of the night and sing the song of my people in hopes that they rescue me.
Dear Diary: When the authorities poop I have tried to poop in the bathtub litter box with them in a show of solidarity. I have yet to experience any gratitude.
Dear Diary: My attempts to destroy the terrible plant have all been for naught. Somehow, almost as if by some evil magic, a new one has appeared in its place. I will have to start over now. Like Sisyphus, I am bound to hell.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Dear Diary Ė It has occurred to me today that my dearest human has never sniffed my backside. I must bond with him in different ways. Like my father always used to say, if you want someone to look you in the eye make sure that your mouth smells exactly like your butt. Itís difficult to argue with that logic and so I have eaten some rotting earthworms in preparation for my dear humanís return, as well as one of his socks.
Dear Diary Ė itís not so much that I miss my testicles; I know itís a rite of passage in our pack and Iím sure that my dearest human has had his removed as well but when that one bulldog comes to the dog park and parades his testicles around I canít help but notice how Ginger looks at them. I love Ginger. To be fair I will admit he has a fine smelling butt.
Dear DiaryĖ the cat is a curious magical creature. Itís as if a teddybear mated with a cactus and itís much less fun to play with then it would appear and yet it poops delicious candy into a box of pee flavored sprinkles. Dearest human guards these treats jealously, often harvesting them into a barrel, but I will admit that I sneak one from time to time. They are delicious, forgive me.
Dear DiaryĖ this is the 733rd day that I have tried to test what cat swore to me was true; namely, that if you hump anything long enough you will find a flower. So far the results have been mixed. My dearest humanís leg flower has not revealed itself. However Iím almost certain that I felt something on the brown teddy bear. More tests are needed.
Dear Diary Ė I have yet to see my dearest human poop anywhere, I suspect he may not know how. I have resolved to teach him when we patrol the neighborhood each day in search of man with hats and beards. It is embarrassing to do in public but he must learn somehow, I fear he will die of constipation If donít succeed. Fortunately my dearest human seems to show some interest and is now collecting my feces in a small bag. Soon.
Dear Diary - I must be more careful when licking myself. My dearest human seems sensitive about it, most likely because he is incapable of licking his own. As always I am in awe of his ability to be so noble despite what I can imagine are filthy, filthy. He hides them everyday.
Dear Diary - Today I have added a fourth circle to my pre-pooping ritual. As before the first circle is to verify that I do in fact need to poop. The second is to check for gremlins and men with beards and hats. The third is to re-verify my need for pooping, and now the fourth is to honor my newly deceased toy stuffed llama. Rest in peace, I didnít mean to shake your head off.
Dear Diary - I told the cat about how my dearest human has promoted me, teaching me to shake hands so I can participate in his business dealings. However, cat pointed out that I am often unaware of what I am shaking on. For example, when I shook the neighbor's hand this morning, I have no clue what I agreed to, none. Cat says this is how the devil buys souls. I will pee on the bed for comfort.
Dear Diary - My dearest human asked me where the ball was when it was clearly in plain sight. I brought it over and he threw it even farther away then asked me where it was and was very happy when I brought it again; perhaps a metaphor? Dearest human leaves each day and I am happy when he returns wait, maybe he is the ball and I am dearest human this is too much... I must pee on the bed.
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