Sunday, August 22, 2010
Jesus Had Me Put To Sleep
This guy...this is the guy.
I swear, this is the analogy (or is it a metaphor?) that I've been looking for ever since Jesus brought me home from the pound. I exist only to serve him, fetch his sandals, and, on occaision, beg for my food.
He never hits me in the nose with a rolled-up newspaper anymore, and hardly ever uses the choke collar. But I must be broken, because he says he's taking me to the vet to get fixed. Still, he is my master and...what's that? You want me to go for a ride?
Back to Killed By Fish
- I am the Ken doll you left outside in 1983. I have been living on cat food and squirrels, coming out mostly at night, unable to wash or even change my clothes because they are permanently sewn on. I ask you, would a merciful God allow this? I just wish I could wipe this stupid grin off my idiot face.