I murdered a dog today. I didn't leave the house with the premeditated intention of murdering a dog, but that's how it ended up. I was out throwing around the baseball with my cousin Jimmy and Uncle Joe, and the neighbors' dog ran into my back yard. The obvious response was to shoo it away. That did not work, not at all. I got so frustrated with the barking and the fussing that I threw the baseball at the dog as hard as I could. I nailed it right in the head, and it went into convulsions (the dog, not the baseball). In five minutes it was dead. In seven minutes I was apologizing to the children that live next door, but I didn't mean it. That dog was annoying. Truth be told, if the family hadn't seen me kill it, I would have probably punched and kicked it a few times for good measure. So that's pretty much all that happened today, and I know I'll sleep soundly tonight without that damned noisy dog around.
If you believed this, you must think I'm a real dick. It ain't true, though, I just don't have anything of interest to type.
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