Yesterday I was buying a large bag of Purina dog food for my neighbors dog at Giant, and was about to check out. A woman behind me asked if I had a dog. On impulse, I told her that no, I didn’t have a dog, and that I was starting the Purina Diet again.
Although I probably shouldn’t, because I’d ended up in the hospital last time, but that I’d lost 50 lbs before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.
I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry and that the food’s nutritionally complete so I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here that practically everyone in the line was by now enthralled with my story.)
Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food poisoned me. I told her no; I’d been sitting in the middle of the street licking my balls when a car hit me.
I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack, he was laughing so hard.
