Too Broke To Laugh

My buddy Poopy just got a new puppy. I know, that sounds hilarious, but both his nickname and the new puppy are true. I might as well explain the nickname Poopy because I know you can’t get past it right now. Long story short, his friend sharted himself with a bunch of women around, it smelled real bad and so he blamed Poopy. There you go and yes I know it’s awesome.

A while back I wanted a bulldog in a bad way, but they cost about 2 million dollars, give or take a few million and I didn’t have any cash to spend. My friend tells me about this lady in a dipshit town about 50 miles from my house that has a bulldog and she can’t keep it anymore. Apparently the woman who owned the bulldog told my friend the dog was a champion and it was a mashup of Wonderdog, Scooby-Doo, Lassie, Benjie and Rin Tin Tin, but she was giving it away for ‘FREE’.

I drive down there and pull up to this piece of crap house and right away I knew I was fucked. I just drove 50 miles, I’m in the middle of nowhere, so I figure just a quick peek can’t hurt. The woman lets me in and my first impression of this vile abode is fully realized by all the trash, old food, crying kids with droopy diapers and every other possible cliche of a dirtbag Jerry Springer house.

The woman says to me ‘C’mon in and take a look at Champ for yourself’ and she leads me into the farthest back room in the house. I look around and there is no fucking dog to be found. She turns to me and opens a door, which as far as I could tell led to a septic tank and out from the darkness waddles Champ the bulldog.

This bulldog was by far the most bizarre, scary, horrifying, mutant, Frankenstein, Sloth from the Goonies looking bulldog you could imagine. It had one working eye and the other was glazed over with some funky think white goop, it was breathing like it had been smoking unfiltered Camels for the past fifty years, it had chunks of fur missing and it walked sideways.

I literally screamed out loud when this dog came into view and it wasn’t just a little whimper either, but rather a fully audible ‘Ahhh’. I looked back at her, then looked back at Champ and bolted for the front door. When I got into my car I called my friend on the phone and told him thanks for the hot tip on Cujo, but I was taking a pass.

There is no moral to this story, just a sad lesson of how a good deed, me trying to rescue a dog, turned into a stomach churning disaster.

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