Hunter S. Thompshound
Looking for the right to arm dogs, too.
“Spayed in the USA, I was Spayed in the USA…”
Patriotism is the last refuge of the shoe-chewer.
Semper Fido.
This country’s really gone to the dogs.
Who’s a Proud Boy, then?
Obscure and funny. Your turn.
More dogs…
Um, that was meant to be “gamboling”.
“Whaddya mean, put it on red? We’re all color-blind!”
“For the last time - DON’T jump on the table and chase after the ball.”
I’m so glad this isn’t ladies day. On those days, all I hear is bitch, bitch, bitch.
You’re right - this is much better than playing poker!
“C’mon, baby! Papa needs a new pair of nuts!”
Ever since The Kennel Club relaxed its pedigree requirements, it’s gone completely to the dogs.
Barring any last second post about the craps table, the winner is…
(working from a tablet, don’t know if it will work…)
The Marquis de Sade’s bathroom had a few–shall we say, interesting–features.
When custodians tire of scrubbing diarrhea
From the Bed Bath and BeyOUCH! catalog.
A case for hovering.
Don’t use the restrooms at the ashram.