I’m cursed
I had a dream last night where I found a puppy. He was a wiener dog. I picked him up and was excited and took him home and decided to keep him as a pet. When we got home he sunk his teeth into my arm and ripped it off.
After he bit my arm off, I woke up. So I wander downstairs to check my email. And what do you know, I have a questionaire to fill out as part of the process to gain hibbaship on hobo.ca. The only thing now is, I can’t decide on a good way to word them. I either sound arrogent and stuck up or stupid and lacking intelligence.
Now both getting a puppy and moving on to the next stage is great, but losing my arm and not being able to write the answers aren’t. This just shows that good things are just bad things with fur. And don’t trust wiener dogs.
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