Internet – we are sick. Sick, sick doggies. Joe is horking up things from his chest that no one, NO ONE should hear or see. Poor puppy, it’s not his fault. But, still! Stop horking! I seem to be a couple of days behind him, so I guess I better be nice so when I have disgusting matter oozing out my orifices he’ll be nice to me. Wow, that got gross fast. I’ll see you in a minute when you come back from honoring the porcelain king.
There I go. Talking about puke. Still gross. Like being twelve years old and just learning what 69 means. I can’t stop talking about it. I better go to bed, now, and hope that tomorrow is mucus-free.