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Monday, 13 January 2014

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Young purty girl of Arkansas extraction takes her Irish WolfHound to the veterinarian.

"What's the problem with your big ol' dog Young Lady?" says the vet.

"Well, I'm kinda embarrassed," says she "but when I come home after work and let him outta the pen, this big ol' dog jumps up to my tits, knocks me to my knees and proceeds to hump me."

Vet says, "Easily taken care of Miss, I'll simply neuter your big ol' dog."

"What's a neuter?" asks the Arkie girl.

"I'll," the veterinarian replies, "Give your big ol' dog a little anesthetic and then cut his balls off."

"Cut his balls off!" the Arkie Lass exclaims horrified, "How about you just clip his claws and do something about his breath?"

JK wins this week!

I think that explains the 'hangdog look' of so many Arkies!

Dom's very apparently a man of discernment while you David haven't a clue - dogs are affectionate and understanding and every bitch is attractive. Dogs signal humans when Who's she? is not so much in the mood to talk about otherwise important stuff

like, Fetch Puppy Dog! and a bone is tied to a pumpkin which is then fired out of a pumpkin cannon

http://news.yahoo.com/video/firing-pumpkin-cannon-long-family-155857697.html

leaving the boner to have at some pumpin.

For the life of me I never understood why the Ladies of Britain ever allowed the word "Great" in front of 'em when they knew all along it should've been Hillbillies Britain.

Notice the black folk in the studio. The white gal is ... (well watch her hands after the second shot ...)

JK, I don't quite know how to put this but the 'news' item in that link was actually more eye-stabbingly tedious than all of Obama's speeches put together! I am thinking of insisting that you place certificate letters next to all your links rather like films do to indicate their content. Perhaps 'T' for tedious, 'B' for boring, 'O' for obscure, 'N' for narcoleptic. Mind you, I am at a loss to know quite how to certify a film on some loon, obviously out of his head on cider, firing pumpkins into the middle distance. And I thought all the cider-loonies lived and worked in Somerset, the cider capital of the world! I am almost tempted to ask what it has to do with dogs but on second thoughts, please, pretty please, don't bother telling me!

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