Thursday, March 24, 2011

MY DOG, WROLF

So. I've got a dog.
His name is Wrolf.
He's a very pretty boy.
Though he's not smart,
He's got lots of heart,
and he's my pride and joy.

Hurrah for that lovely, badly written little poem thing. Off the top of my head - fun, huh? Anyways, He's a doberman-rottweiler, and he really isn't the brightest star in the sky. He's huge, he's clumsy, and he doesn't realize that his tail is attached to his butt, so he has a tendency to knock anything over that's remotely at his level. And it hurts when it hits you. But, he goes totally slack if you rub his belly or his chest.

The reason I say this, now? Well, because he's laying on top of my hands as I type. It's rather difficult, but I know the keyboard well enough that I can do this. He's really heavy though. Mostly, this was a test to see if I could type under these circumstances.

TYPING LEVEL: BAD ASS.

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