Friday, August 10, 2007

Dear Doggy,

I don't have anything against you. But your voice straight up scares me, petrifying. Come on doggy, you know I had to park on the grass opposite your house cause there's no space left near mine. And you fucking well know that all those 4 ghetto doggies who guard the street and stay outside, they cool with me. Yes, even that dude that looks like a wolf + fox hybrid (what's cooler than this?). Everytime I get out my car, sure they can fucking chase and bark at me anytime they want, but they cool, they be givin' me the approval look as if they be telling me in low tone voices "aiyo whut up dawg .. we chillin' .. goin' home already? aight, safe".

Sometimes they bark at my car when I'm passing by sometimes they don't. I get it, whenever they do they just wanna scare the flies away so the flies don't end up in my nose. They cool with me doggy. They chill. You? whassup with you? are you just pissed off you're not as free as them, locked up in those weenie black gates, or are you a napoleon? with your small ass physique.

But your bark homie, that shit don't fly with my bladder control. I can't describe it, it's a bit husky, a bit distorted, a bit oddly-timed, ALL HORROR. It's like you figured it out dawg, you figured out the sonic dread assault.

And what's with barking at me from when I was outside the car, to when I'm walking through the back alley, through my street, and while I'm opening the house door. I can't even begin to concentrate on twisting dem keys, yo.

Please, I might be going back out in a while, I will be within your radar.

Please, I beg, stop barking.

Please, I am only human.

I can't go through with this. Celia, pass me dem happy pills.

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