Apologies, dear reader (readers? echoing void?) for I have been a lax dog, and have been far too busy with important things such as eating, sleeping, and passing wind to jot down these little notes to the Universe. But Time has passed, and I return, at least briefly.
Now, I’m not much of a religious dog, but I do believe that the writer of Ecclesiastes may have had a point when they wrote that there is a time for everything. Although I find myself concerned about some of the serious omissions in that famous list. What of a time for barking at the neighbours? A time for scaring the wotsits out of the courier? A time for punching Them on the sofa until they get me a chew and groom me? A time for walking into a room, belching in someone’s face, then sitting down to fart happily? Major gaps in an otherwise insightful piece of poetry.
Anyway, I digress. For not only is there a Time for everything, there is also a Place. This is important. Very important.
But first, a warning. Dear reader, if reader there be, should you be of a delicate disposition I advise you to stop here, for today I must discuss the vital but perhaps base matter of … defecation.
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