Eyes on the ground, feet in your ears.
First the sun came up, then clouds chased me around for what seemed like hours, growling. Then I had lunch. Just another average day.
Read that "Kama Sutra" book, but no tailors around here make clothes like that.
Fish do not have feathers. Ever wonder why?
There's an odd sound underneath me. May be coming from my poopy hole. There are days when it gets lonely and needs attention.
Fuzz — got way too much around the house, and the bank won't let me keep it in my savings account. Something's wrong here — very wrong.
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Me? Saw another TRex in the back garden today, eating my neighbor. (Must be Wednesday.)
