Our dog is farting, and the house is filled with a horrible, noxious cloud of gas, way worse than what we usually get in So Cal. This is serious indoor pollution; the kind the EPA investigates, and if we could get Superfund status, that would be fucking sweet, as I am in dire need of cash.
It is a large dog, and a small house, so you do the math for how much oxygen is left. No? You won't? Well, I'll tell you; not fucking much, that's how much. She has worms, which is bad enough in itself, but I can't afford to do anything about it, so we're all suffering. She lets out a big sigh, and then she groans, and then the stench hits you, and then you groan.
The Spouse Sparrow was watching this really lame movie on TV the other night (he will watch anything if it looks truly awful enough), called "Dreamcatcher," I think. Pure crap, probably Stephen King, and it had an incredibly convoluted, highly improbable plot. But, it did have one very memorable scene, in which this old, hunter-type guy comes in from the forest to seek shelter at the main character's cabin. So, he gets invited in, which is dead stupid, as he looked fucking sickly, and I am sure all sickly people should be put down immediately, and doused with bleach before they contaminate me. Do not call me cold-hearted, as I have survived for 36 years by doing this, and no one has missed those people, ever.
There is no way I would have been as dumb as these main characters were, inviting in a festering geezer like that. Sure enough, once he was inside, he started burping and farting like crazy, and then they tell him to lay down on some perfectly clean white sheets (which had to be a serious bitch to keep clean, as the cabin was in Buttfuck, Maine, without a washing machine in sight), and he starts bleeding from his ass like a hole-stretched, aged poofter, and leaves a trail of it on the floor as he goes to the shitter. Extremely inconsiderate, but that's what those do-gooder main characters get for trying to do the white thing.
And did he leave it at that, recover, and clean up his mess? Of course not. He sat down on the toilet, shat out some kind of worm/alien/lamprey thing (I never did figure out which), and promptly died, leaving the worm/alien/lamprey thing to run about and wreak havoc, and I don't know what all, because I had to do the dishes. Not all of us can sit around and watch shite and eat bon-bons, you know.
So, in short, I am afraid this is what the dog is heading for, and I am advising you all to run for it now, while you have the chance. I have seen her arse actually open up, and the farts come out, and I am sure it would not take much for an evil alien eel to come slithering out, and by the smell of it, it will be soon.
My other dog farts too, but as he is a gay homosexual dog, he farts in an appropriate manner. He lets off a little squeaky fart, and then he jumps up with surprise, and sniffs his ass, and looks around as if to say, "Was that me? Do pardon me!" and then he lays back down. The smell is quite bad, and I suspect that he also has worms, but I do not think he has been infiltrated by alien eels just yet. He is a small dog, so maybe that is why. The other dog is large, and the hunting geezer in the movie was a big, fat fuck, so they can obviously support alien eel parasites. If my gay homosexual dog does have an alien eel, it would be a gay homosexual alien eel, and who is going to be afraid of those?
If anyone has seen that lame movie, all the way through, and actually understood the plot, please e-mail me and let me know what the fuck that was all about. There seemed to be a shapeshifting alien that was also a mongo human, that read minds or something. It was all very confusing, and sometimes I think about it while I do the dishes, and sometimes it keeps me awake at night, thinking what a crazy fuck Stephen King is. Also, I would like to know if I should slaughter the dogs and cover them in bleach. Thank you.