There was this website where you typed in

then I ended up in Hell myself because of my roommate. Being in Hell isn't as bad as you think. First of all, the whole "fire" thing is crap. It's actually 78 degrees, true its hum

id but its not like Apalachicola where I grew up. Sure there's torture but it's only once a month. Hell's got a big population & the demons ration it. There are a lot of celebs too

, but some deserve such pain we have to start before death. There's something to be said of people whose children you wouldn't flinch at decapitating. Like those CISPA fucktards.

I really loved my dog Cispa. In fact I have a tattoo with her name in it. It pisses me off that people can't respect my love for this animal. I'm glad Sopa is still with me. She's

good friends with a pet shop owner who leaves snacks on a plate outside the back of the shop. One day my poor Sopa was heading to the pet shop when the Dog Catcher came and put her

In a trap and said you are no longer getting a free lunch. Understand? Sopa did, and so he finally stuck to my homemade dog chow. He stayed close to home after that.

Until that fateful morning when I woke up and found Soap and his dog dish gone. He had left a note, which read "Woof, woof, yowl." His handwriting was atrocious. I thought I could

understand the pain behind it though. My poor doggy couldn't bare to tell the world know he was dying. He'd gone off to the woods to die alone. I jumped in my Jeep and hightailed

To Feathers, a new Pet boutique hospice located in downtown Albert, Texas. Getting my dog from the Chacon Peninsula in Alaska to Albert would be worthy of a sequel Folding Story.