it is getting to where a man can't drop a deuce in this country without half the chazz palmenteri taking pictures to publish on the cover of the tabloids.
this morning i was sitting in my catbox takin' a dump when who should walk in? the fatman and his dogs. the fatman walks his dogs every morning. he unleashed them and then waltzed into the kitchen.
the dogs stare at me.
me: fatman?
i peer over the top of the morning paper.
fatman: yes, oscar?
me: you forget somethin', fatman?
i wave a paw at his dogs.
me: i can't be takin' no dump with them 2 idjits starin at me, fatman. I ain't runnin' no peep show!
he sighs and drags the dogs into the kitchen.
like i said: it is getting to where a man can't drop a deuce in this country without half the chazz palmenteri taking pictures to publish on the cover of the tabloids.
fatman: do you mean the paparrazi?
i stare at him blankly.
fatman: you said chazz palmenteri. i think you mean the paparrazi.
me: i bid you bidet! fatman!
i continue to stare at him blankly until he wanders off.
tomorrow i shall drop a deuce in his coffee!
o -out
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