I smoke some pretty good hooch. My dog preferred to eat it. This is a true story generic poem of how i got my nick dog8mybag. I really thought my dog was dying. i didnt even give any thought to it until she barfed it up right there on the table in front of me, wife and doc. She dug it out on the side of the couch under a table or i might have had a clue. But i had just walked in and.............
Dog8mybag
I Got In Late From Work,
My Dog Looked Kinda Dead.
Her Tongue Was Hanging Out,
Eyes Rolled Up In Her Head.
I Put Her In The Car,
I Took Her To The Vet.
I Said Hey Doc Look,
Please Try To Save My Pet.
It Looks Like She's Been Poisoned,
I Hope Were Not To Late.
I'll Pump This In Her Stomach,
Then She'll Regurgitate.
She Struggled Up On All Fours,
Im Talkin Barely Able.
Then All Of The Sudden,
She Puked All Over The Table.
We Looked Down At Her Barfings,
My Thought Was She's Not Dyin.
About That Time Doc Said,
Son Your Dogs Brain Is Fryin.
It Looks Like Marijuana,
And She Really Ate A Lot.
My Mind Began To Ponder,
That Was Some Killer Diller Pot.
I Said I Hope You Like Honesty,
I Know It's A Bit Of A Drag.
But Doc You Gotta Listen,
I Think My Dog Ate My Bag.
(((HEY GEORGE))) Fix America First
www.myspace.com/dog8mybagAustin Texas USA
