Dennis is no longer answering questions about age, weight, run-ins and near run-ins with the law or bad habits, unless the questioner leaves their age, weight, a long list of their bad habits and run-ins or near run-ins with the law in the comment area before asking the question relating to Dennis' bad habits, age, weight, run-ins and near run-ins with the law. Dennis says please feel free to divulge all. Dennis says you will feel better afterwards. Dennis says details are welcomed. Dennis says "Please Ask."
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Dennis Says "Don't Ask"
Dennis is no longer answering questions about age, weight, run-ins and near run-ins with the law or bad habits, unless the questioner leaves their age, weight, a long list of their bad habits and run-ins or near run-ins with the law in the comment area before asking the question relating to Dennis' bad habits, age, weight, run-ins and near run-ins with the law. Dennis says please feel free to divulge all. Dennis says you will feel better afterwards. Dennis says details are welcomed. Dennis says "Please Ask."
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5 comments:
Bwahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!! Dennis you are too much!!Now you're giving Mom ideas ;)
I'm with you though...ask,ask!!!
Purrs Mickey
MWF, 48, 125#, no law run-ins but MANY infractions. Bad habits: crazy cat lady, rum, and addiction to web surfing.
Quid Pro Quo, Dennis, Quid Pro Quo.
I don't think I could fit it all into this little comment box. Especially if we start with weight. Oops, no space left!!!!
not asking
16 years going on forever.
12 having lost that oh so important 13th pound (13 being important because I used to be known as "13 pounds of clingy love) in the last year, probably due to that punk, Bob pinning me to the floor and making me squeal like a pig. (losing one's dignity is stressful, ya know?)
Bad habits? I beg for food even after I've eaten. I beg for food the instant I've finished what's in my bowl. I ask to go out on the patio then turn around and ask to come in a minute later then ask to go out again a minute after that. I do not and will not reciprocate that punk, Bob's grooming under any circumstance (but I will grudgingly admit that the kid does get my ears about as clean as a whistle). I don't cover up anything I do in the litter box. Let the kid do that dirty work. I take long strolls at night, too long, and tend to wander too far, out of the sight of my owner, and will only come when called vigorously and repeatedly, and then only after really considering whether I really want to come or not. It's so doggish, ya know? I slap that punk, Bob every chance I get. He gets near me and that kid gets smacked. I pout. I hold grudges. I'm as moody as the day is long and am the reigning king of passive aggression. Ask me if I want to out and I'll walk away from the sliding glass door; sit down and get comfortable and I'll proceed back to the sliding glass door and look pitiful and needy and even offer up a silent meow. When I get angry, I get chimp angry. This term was used for my anger long before that poor woman lost her face a year ago. See, I watch National Geographic and a few years ago, I saw how chimps will hunt each other down and tear each other apart, literally. So, don't get me angry. Or, I'll tear you apart.
I ain't no angel. I've never claimed to be. But Bob, that punk, still loves me anyway. Go figure. What a chump.
So, Dennis, my question for you is:
Have you ever killed a chipmunk?
I must say, despite my owner's guilt and horror and grief, it's a rather exhilarating experience.
Oh, and hey, if you don't want to answer, just know that you and me, Dennis? We were cut from the same cloth. I admire the heck outta you, Bub. Your heart is as black (and deep inside where no one can see, as marshmallow soft) as mine.
Over and out...
Elmo, the mighty chipmunk killer...
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