Dog evolution

The human goddess has a plastic bin that she keeps important papers in. The color is called "glacier" but it's really blue. Yesterday I walked over to the plastic bin and dug around in it, spilling some papers out onto the floor. I snooped around until I found a bright pink tablet of sticky-notes. I found the human goddess and stood in front of her with the bright pink sticky-notes in my mouth. The top page had these words on it: BRUSH THE DOGS. It was obviously a reminder for the male human. He's the one who has the privilege of brushing us. He got the brush from the closet and Sister and I went out in the yard with him. And we got brushed. I love getting brushed!

We're getting smarter all the time. We can't read yet, but we can feel the essence of the words.

It's only a matter of time before world dominion.

Be afraid.



Apologies to Richard Brautigan


At 1:03 in the morning a fart
smells like a marriage between
an avocado and a fish head.

I have to get out of bed
to write this down without
My glasses on.

My interpretation:

MAY 20

At 7:03 in the evening a Quorn nugget
smells like a marriage between
fried chicken and an egg roll.

I have to get off the bed
to zoom into the kitchen with
My begging face on.




My sister makes more noise when she's sleeping than when she's awake. I think she channels the souls of her ancestors. She's probably dreaming about being a wild dog in Australia. Last night she said WOOP. Repeatedly. WOOP. At twenty second intervals. WOOP. The humans thought the sound was coming from a freakish animal somewhere. They were right.



Mister Toast and Z

Could I have some scrambled eggs with that?