NEED A GREAT COVER ARTIST?

NEED A GREAT COVER ARTIST?
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Showing posts with label Nazi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nazi. Show all posts

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Saturdays With Sir Poops-A-Lot, N is for Neighborhood Nazi

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Sir Poops-A-Lot

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                Hair Ball

SPAL: Boy, is mummsy mad right now. This morning she was cornered by the woman in the hoodie. I thought Hair Ball was going to eat her ankles.

HB: I should’ve. Bad Neighborhood Nazi. Thinking mummsy doesn’t pick up our poops. ( gives a low growling wolf)

SPAL: Calm down. Okay. Daddy-o’s sleeping. And, I’m trying to get this blog done.

HB: I’m upset they blame us for that ugly albino Doberman’s poop who thinks he’s so big and tough.

SPAL: If you didn’t notice, dumb-dumb, he’s a giant. Wonder if the Neighborhood Nazi’s even notice? And then there’s the Black Lab and the Pit Bull twins.                 

HB: Yeah! Torpedo poopers.

SPAL: Yeah! Their poops litter the sidewalks.

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SPAL: There are signs everywhere. Can’t these other dogs read? Like me?

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HB: Well, not every dog’s a pansy like you.       

SPAL: I’d rather be a pansy than a hair ball….and stop interrupting. I thought we were having a conversation about those Neighborhood Nazi’s. And, I’ve got to finish my blog for today.

HB: Yeah. Mummsy made that name up. (giggles) Neighborhood Nazis.

SPAL: Yes, she did. She says there’s three of them that she sees daily. Walking around with their pads and pencils. They even dig through garbage.

HB: Mummsy says that’s bad. We get in trouble for that.

SPAL: I know…anyway, she says we live in a mini luxury internment camp with spies. And, there’s one way in and one way out.

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HB: What does that mean?

SPAL: I think we live in some kind of prison.

HB: Oh.

SPAL: I heard mummsy telling daddy-o that the Neighborhood Nazis may come take our DNA.

HB: What’s that?

SPAL: Not real sure…but mummsy says that the Neighborhood Nazis might come  swab our bum holes. Maybe even our mouths. It would be a way of determining who’s leaving poop on the sidewalks.

HB: I’ll bite ‘em. I’ll beat ‘em up. They’re not touching me. I don’t like them mean ole Neighborhood Nazis. (he barks and growls)

SPAL: Shhh! You’re going to wake up daddy-o.

HB: Well, what are we going to do about those Neighborhood Nazis taking our DNA? How are we going to stop them?

SPAL: Use the upstairs bathroom.