My Dog Needs A Loan!
My dog approached me and said he needed a loan. I asked him what it was for; dog biscuits? Chew toys? A shiny new collar? Well, it was none of the aforementioned!
He sighed and said it had been a costly day for him at work. He works security detail as a “guard dog.” He said, “It’s been a costly day for me. We had a meeting at work today and I found out about a disturbing new rule banning expletives in the work place! What the–#*@!!!”
There is a ‘cuss’ jar where we must donate one @*!!%!! dollar for every *@**!! curse word uttered. Yes, even under your *((@!! breath! It is retroactive, five years back! Oh boy, I was big trouble…Glad they can’t also read my *@(*!! ## thoughts!”
He continued, “Anyway, the way I figure it, I owe the company at least $150,000. Is there any way you can make me a low-interest loan? I should be able to pay it off soon. Just make it a 50-60 year term, no interest, 100 years same as cash, with no late penalties or hidden fees. Thank you so much. You are the best owner a dog ever had! If you ever need a reference, email it to my Myspace address and I’ll hook you up!”
I said, “Okay, I guess I can help you out this time but from now on, watch your @*##!!! Mouth!!”
I Lost My Credit Card…
I lost my credit card and I have been beside myself for days! Also, in front of and behind myself, crisscrossing, back tracking, going over and over every move I made over the last week. I retraced my steps, went to all the places I had been before—heck, I even vacuumed my truck and under the cushions, hoping I would turn something up! No credit card—but I did find an uneaten M&M and 3 stale Cheetos. I am saving those for a rainy day!
Anyway, as I was saying, I was frantic wondering what could have possibly happened to my credit card and imagined the worst…Some filthy, dirty, lousy thief was living large somewhere at a Las Vegas casino, charging up a hefty bar tab and attracting all the women with his big time spending ways…Nope, if I can’t do this, neither can he!!
So, when I got home, that is exactly what I intended on doing; but, as I turned the corner into my drive, my dog, Sergeant, had those air traffic control lights out directing a jet landing in my driveway!! What the…
I watched in astonishment as the pilot landed and proceeded to unload 500 lbs. of meat, dog caviar, bouncy balls and some French chic female dog, dressed in a dog bikini with a name tag that read, “Fee Fee.”
I was bound and determined to catch the thief before this got way out of hand, so I went to the police station and filed a police report. The officer told me he would contact me if there was any news, but not to get my hopes up, I should just call the company and cancel the card.
I Am A Sweepstakes Winner?
I got a telegram today that I am a sweepstakes winner! Woo! Hoo! I could just see in my mind’s eye those big fat checks delivered to my door every month like the ones you see on the Publisher’s Clearinghouse commercials.
I had my speech prepared. I would donate most of my winnings to charity to help those less fortunate. The media would hear of my good deeds and my fame would spread far and near. Newspaper reporters and television camera people would camp out at my house just to catch a glimpse of me. There would be a made for television movie based on my life’s story.
I would have to dodge the paparazzi everywhere I went and duck into cabs and be whisked away in the dark of night! I would sign autographs and sign my name on people’s hands when they didn’t have a paper handy. The girls would swoon and swear they would never wash their hands again!
I would have too much time on my hands, become full of myself and treat my friends like dirt…Wow, what a life this was going to be!
I sighed deeply as I was transported back from my pleasant dream state to reality when I opened the envelope and read…
“Dear Mr. I. M. Canine:
We are happy to inform you that you are a winner in the dog food for life contest and will receive free dog food for the rest of your natural life in dog years!”
I see my dog has been sneaking on my laptop again and entering dog sweepstakes!!
So, I am not a star…but on the bright side, I guess I’ll be saving a fortune in dog food!
Dollar Does His Taxes
I walked into the room and my dog, Dollar, was beside himself! Wow, that makes him two “Fifty Cents!” LOL! Oh yeah, well anyway…Dollar was fit to be tied. His eyes were blood shot, he had chewed his paws down to a nub and was on his third pot of coffee.
I didn’t know what was up, so I asked, “Hey, what’s up Dollar? Why so glum”
He spoke nervously and his eye was involuntarily twitching as he said, “It’s these taxes man! I don’t know what I’m going to do! I’ve calculated and recalculated the figures and I still owe the IRS $3,000! I’ve deducted my chew toys, the bones buried in the backyard, flea baths and dog shampoo and it just doesn’t help. How’s a Dollar supposed to make a dollar these days? Sheesh…”
I couldn’t help but laugh! I started to walk away but figured I’d let my old pal off the hook. “Relax dude! Dogs don’t have to pay taxes! You’re going to drive yourself into an early dog pound! How about a nice belly rub and a dog biscuit?”
He let an audible sigh and said, “Whew! What a relief! Can I borrow $300 now to go to the arcade? I figure with all that coffee, I’m not going to sleep for at least a week!”
My dear old dog, Dave, and I had the evening and home all to ourselves last night. I was preparing for a four-course meal for me, and maybe a little for Dave. On the menu was a bottle of bourbon, a delivered pizza, a bag of Dorito’s, and some jellybeans.
The delivery dude arrived and said, “Did you know that I used to think Johnny Cash was a pay toilet? LOL LOL!” He was an amazing idiot.
Anyway, I lit a candle for ambiance but the flashing flame was irritating me. I used my brain muscle and slid a roll of paper towels over the candle and onto the table so it could burn without bothering my eyes. Then my house phone rang and I ran to answer it.
Oddly enough, it was a telemarketer selling Johnny Cash memorabilia. I hung up and noticed that Dave was barking up a storm. When I returned to my table, it was engulfed in flames. I thought to myself, “They really should make non-flammable paper towels, and tables.”
At the same time, my stereo was playing Johnny Cash’s “Burning Ring of Fire.” Three, is way too many Johnny Cash coincidences for one day.
I was able to save most of the table, but the pizza was ruined. I had to call for delivery, again…