November 20th, 2007 | fongstarr |

Written last night after a couple of cups of Goose and OJ) So I remember a time when my dog took a shit. I’d look at him in deep concentration and he’d stare back like “What?” ***SLAP*** I Rick James the mutha fucka and the dude always new from that point that shitting on the ugliest carpet in Richmond was a no-no. Essentially the life of my dog was simple. Sleep, eat, sniff, eat, fart, shit, eat, sleep and rock out with his cock out whenever he had the time. On odd occasions, he would sprint about 5 feet only to relapse in a coma from exhaustion and delusions of actually thinking he was some stealthy mutt. It’s not like he had little penis syndrome cause he would let Chihuahuas walk all over him but I think if push comes to shove, he would fight a nigga or two. My dog was cool man, although I think if I was fall off the edge of the earth, he’d probably lift his leg and send a nice lengthy stream of pee my way. So as I hit the ground, I would feel a nice little SPLASH on the back of my neck. I can see that smirk on his face right now. BITCH! Best times…venting on my ex’s. Dog’s can be the best associates at times. Talk about anything and they’re there to lend an ear. “She’s a bitch, huh? Lie down and look the other way while licking your sack if you think she’s a bitch! I KNEW IT!” Good times man…good times. Now all I have left are pictures (mind the gay pic in the middle). There will be no one like my dog Snoopy a.k.a Ess-En-Double-Oh-Pee-Dee-Oh-Double-Gizzee. I will always remember him as the little dog that used to sleep in my lap when I first met him. And now that I saw him for the last time…cold, stiff, eyes frozen in a state of Afro-man-ness, I know he is in the happiest position he would be right now….dead asleep. See you in the next lifetime by dude.