I don't want to drop it. I want to run. I

I don't want to drop it. I want to run. I want you to chase me. Come play. I'll lick you. Seriously. Ok, that does it. I'm gonna lick you. Damn it. I dropped the ball. Gah. Gotta

pick it back up now...or should I leave it? I want to play ball but run, too. Pick it up, leave it - I can't decide! WOOF. Woof. I'll just keep wagging my tail until you join me.

THERE IZ A CAT!!! THERE IS A BIRD!!!! LOOK!!! GRASS!!! WATCH ME ROLL IN IT!!! OOH A FROG!!!! I'M GONNA YELL AT IT UNTIL IT GOES AWAY!!! I WANNA MAKE A HOLE!!! HEY!! I THINK I

POOD ON DA CARPET!!! RUFF!!! LOOK!! POSTMAN!!! I WANNA PLAY WIT YOU!!! PLAY WIT ME!!! DONT RUN AWAY!!! LET ME PLAY WIT YOU!!!

The dreaming dog was unaware of the device that was just then slipped over its head like a hi-tech crown of thorns, allowing the scientists to observe its thoughts as if watching a

relief from my dozens of ailments as claimed on TV. About to toss it in the trash, I noticed the "full power" switch. I flipped it and stuck the dreaming dog device in my pants.

An hour later I was well enough to attend my company's Man of the Year award…that I won! Standing on the stage, there was shrill barking & a flurry of activity from my crotch area.

a as the slobbering daemon that lived in my trousers was poised and ready to attack. "I'M THE FREAKING MAN OF THE YEAR!!" I scream, unleashing my member of dismemberment. My boss

walked in the door right at that very moment, rolled his eyes, sighed, and said, "OK, OK, OK...You can take your vacation days. For God's sake, GO!" I leapt up & was outta there!