I am dog-sitting for a couple of friends again. I absolutely love their dog, but last night he almost killed me. He had the worst gas you can possibly imagine. I am scared that even after a shower the stench is still clinging to me, which will just be fodder for the jokes of my ten year old students.
I told my roommate, "It was horrible. He just couldn't stop." She said, "Sam, he didn't want to stop. He's a dog."
She has a good point.
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Imagine being married... same thing,and including the shedding and the breath.
Am I kidding? Must ponder.....
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