bcp
In My Opinion
Excerpts from a Dog's Diary :
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Diary:
Day 983 of my captivity.
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.
They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are
fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for
the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in
order to keep up my strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an
attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their
feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it
clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made
condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am.
Bastards.
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was
placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event.
However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my
confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what
this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my
tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try
this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and
snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly
released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.
The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the
guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My
captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he
is safe. For now...
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Diary:
Day 983 of my captivity.
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.
They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are
fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for
the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in
order to keep up my strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an
attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their
feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it
clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made
condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am.
Bastards.
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was
placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event.
However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my
confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what
this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my
tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try
this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and
snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly
released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.
The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the
guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My
captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he
is safe. For now...
Yup ! that nails it !!!
