hello nice reederz its dennis the vizsla dog hay wel we hav got the antenna and raydeeo thing wurking in this chikkin koop spayship and i am abel to send bak messadjes frum owter spayse now so i thawt that the first thing i wood do wood be to file a skolarly and hili sientifik treetis on common miths abowt owter spayse i hope this will kleer sum things up for all those siense fizziks and astronomee tipes wot ar stuk bak on erth ok heer goze
After being betrayed to the Mark-Downers by Logan, I have found myself carted off to a desolate warehouse that apparently dates from the 20th century, a relic now here in the 23rd. This moldering, vacant space seems like the perfect spot for the harshest interrogation imaginable. I can only wonder what ruthless torments the Mark-Downers have in store for me …
hello nice reederz its dennis the vizsla dog hay wow it shoor is gud to be a dog agin insted of a chikkin!!! speeking of wich we wer hoping we mite git to play with the alien chikkins gun but unfortchoonatly it was slitely aksidently destroyd wile we wer fiting over it:
hello nice reederz its denns the vizsla dog hay so the sunday awards and meem show is on hiatus for this week however i hav this viddyo frum a wile bak wot dada tuk of trixie watching sum peepul wot wer wakking weeds up on the hill chek it owt oh hang on that annoying prodooser smerf just came in yes prodooser smerf wot do yoo want???
hello nice reederz its dennis the vizsla dog hay gess wot??? i hav ben nominayted for awsum blog of the month in the bone zone at dogs with blogs!!! they ar tayking votes now so if yoo want to go and vote for me that wood be nice!!! now yoo hav to be a member of the bone zone to vote and intrestingly enuf i am not a member of the bone zone so i cant vote for myself or for the other nominee hoo happins to be my gud frend brutus the frenchie but if yoo ar in the bone zone and yoo want to vote for me feel free or yoo can vote for my frend brutus hoo is also an awsum littel fellow i wont mind!!! thanks ok bye
After interminable hours of driving through the featureless desert, we have arrived in what’s left of California, where, right on the border, we find exactly what Logan said we would: The last Target of the 23rd century. But if Target is some sort of fabled promised land here in the realm of Wally World, why is it completely deserted? I have a bad feeling about this, and am beginning to wish I had simply gone back to the Doghouse of Justice instead of agreeing to help Logan escape from the Mark-Downers. But, as they say, in for a bit, in for a kibble.
Finding the Target parking lot empty, Logan does what any good shopper would do, and parks as close to the entrance as possible. The door to Target yawns open. An invitation? Or a hungry mouth waiting to devour us? We are about to learn which.