The following is a conversation between my two wiener dogs, Max and Cole, upon the occasion of Max stealing an entire uncooked microwave Quesadilla and eating it whole while my back was turned.
Cole: What's up with you?
Max: I ated something.
Cole: Where is it?
Max: In my tummy.
Cole: Is there any left?
Max: It's in my tummy you ass.
Cole: It's in your ass?
Max: Not yet. I don't know if it will ever get there.
Cole: What was it?
Max: It tasted like cheese ice cream wrapped in bread ice cream. And chicken. Ice cream.
Cole: It sound delicious. Can I have some?
Max: I ated it. It was big. I feel like I'm going to puke.
Cole: When? Can I has some?
Max: I think it will be in the middle of the night. I'll get up close to Mike's head when he's really asleep and make that whorking sound.
Cole: You mean this one? mgpht, mgphhhht!
Max: Yeah, that one. Then he'll have 15 seconds to get out of bed, pick me up, and get me on the kitchen lenolium before I let fly.
Cole: Then can I has some?
Max: You'll be asleep.
Cole: I like ice cream.
Max: My tummy hurts. groooooan.
4 comments:
I...can't...breath...!
Need me to call an amboo...amba...a taxi?
This totally needs the voice over, but because I know the voices ::OH MY SIDES:: ::AIDEZ MOI::
Too funny!
[Fozzie Bear/]Take me to CaleeFORneya![/Fozzie Bear].
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