Damn dog. We washed Smokey today, and used the hose outside. We had to take his collar off, which sucked because Smokey hates baths more than a hippy. Since he had no collar, I had to hold him by his backfat. He still struggled and whined like a pussy, and the bottoms of my pants were soaked, as I had to get wet myself just to wash his grimy little
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The original DotD was also cream-worthy. But how could an undead army eating human flesh of horror-stricken survivors be anything else?
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