It’s A Blast

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Dennis: “I don’t see why my box of meat has to be in the blast chamber. It’s just meat.”
Ambassador: “Bob said so and Bob is the expert.”
Vermin: “HISSS! Stupid big dog! Why are you complaining? If the crate has a bomb in it and the bomb goes off, we’ll have instant barbecue!”
Dennis: “Oooh, you’re right! Blow it up, Bob!”
Bob the Pyromaniac Builder: “All right, I’m going to open the crate!”

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we interupt satterday matinay to bring yoo flyball!!!

hello nice reederz its dennis the vizsla dog hay wel now that i hav finaly got my blog bak frum tucker i can tel yoo all abowt wot i did last weekend wich was flyball!!! yes thats rite last weekend wuz a too day flyball turnamint in the mithical sitty of ramona!!! now yoo may remember that the last time i playd flyball in ramona i got a littel bit of staydj frite that didnt happen this time but unfortchoonatly their is no viddyo of me becuz mamas memry card in her camera got korrupted wile she wuz their i am not shoor wot that meens but i think it meens it aksepted bribes or sumthing but ennyway heer ar sum pikchers wot she tuk before her card went bad

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My Wife Went To A Party And All I Got Were These Lousy Instructions

So you know how when you go away for a few days, if you’re lucky enough to have someone come in and take care of your animals while you’re gone, you might leave them some instructions about what and how much to feed them, what pills to give them, etc.?  Well, my wife is attending a birthday party this evening for a coworker, and evidently our dogs get such customized cuisine that I need instructions for feeding them.

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