Chico's internal dog molecules farted out at 6 o'clock. His life of being a living dog is over. His dog estate amounts to nothing. There will be no claims by interlopers or lost lovers or secret wives. Chico's in dog limbo where dead dogs are stored. Nobody on this side knows what's next.

has gone deaf so now I'm legally required to take a comprehensive canine sign language course for 3 months in Bangor, Maine at the Deaf Dog Institute with my brother Kyle and his wife Kim. With my luck, my chihuahua will die from a heart attack before I get back. The standard tuition cost of fifty-six thousand dollars seems like a lot to a lot of people but when you compare it to the cost of hiring a team of hit men to **** everyone within a three-mile radius of my house, it's pretty cheap.

“Boil my *** in rancid butter,” said the king of Canada. “I enjoy elf
& ****** lore.” Three months later his ******* got caught in an es-
calator at the Mall of America & he died from an inoperably-torn &
ruptured low-hanging sac in a bankrupted Bloomington Sears store,
that precipitated heroic B-cell & genetical alignment at Plum Island
to give Canada's king the Herculean push to thread teen debutantes,
in a sinking Samar Sea boat with 416 crates of polyurethane Trojan  
latex rubber supra condoms that will float longer than 341 shackled Mohammedans in his alligator-stocked west Manitoba palace moat.