First off all, I love dogs

But after last night, my opinion might just change.

For the third night in a row, my neighbors rottweiller ("Sir Barks Allot") put on a concert that neither myself nor my roommate Matt could sleep through. So I went next door (wearing nothing more than my U of Illinois basketball shorts and abs that looks cool when I'm cold...not so cool normally, though) to tell my neighbor to please make her dog shut the fuck up. I guess hoping that my half-naked sexiness would make her do whatever I wanted her to do, I was extremely confident and I knocked on her door for a few minutes.

Alast, it was to no avail.

After realizing that she wasn't home I put a note on her windshield wiper. The note read:

Please put your dog inside at night.
The City of Saint Louis
Then, today I noticed that her car hadn't moved. And then I remembered that her car hasn't moved in a few days. Which leaves me and my roommates to one conclusion:
That fucking dog ate our neighbor. And he has been barking a lot to tell us that, not only is my neighbor dead, but she was really fucking tasty as well.
We haven't seen her in a few days. I remember seeing her walk "Sir Barks Allot" on Monday. She didn't say much, but "Barks Allot" turned to me and said "BACON! I SMELL BACON!"
Later on in the evening I heard a rustling from next door and I remember hearing "Fuck bacon! I'm eating you, Bitch!"
Maybe my imagination is a little overactive. Maybe. But I haven't seen my neighbor in a few days, so explain that. Meanwhile I'll try to sleep while Kujo sits next door, waiting for his bowl to be filled with pieces of humans.
You expect me to sleep now?

The last guy i remember hearing say that dogs talked to him was david berkowitz, you know, the son of sam. So if I were you Al, I would be careful. I would silence Kujo once and for all. Take that fucking dog out, and I don't mean for a walk.
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