A dog is a dog is a dog

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  • I’m in despair. I can’t have a baby. I feel miserable!

  • Why don’t you buy a dog?

Not being a woman, one can’t quite enter into this form of Angst.

But somehow a dog is…well…just not quite the same thing…

(Unless your name is Mrs Cluuh… But nah, that’d be mean!)

I wonder if this is an incomplete “Ask your tutor”-thingy or just an original way to start off a conversation.


Dear Prinz, here in Italy men and women are getting crazy about dogs. Dogs seem to be better than human beings. Some years ago my colleagues during coffee time talked about their children, now they talk about their lovely dogs. It’s so sad.

Dear Paule, you are right. I wanna practise my English, so I start off this topic … a dog is a dog is a dog… Though I have to say I will not be able to write or answer very often.

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  • Bow wow, bow wow, bow wow, bow wow, bow wow, bow wow wow!!!

Yeah well, “bow-wow” is pretty much what I thought when I heard that Man U have sacked that nit, Moyes.

Seriously! A freaking 6 year year contract for a guy with scanty top-flight managerial pedigree, zero silverware and zero CL experience!? I mean, just what was the board thinking of? (I only hope their lawyers had the good sense and presence of mind to include a break-clause in the event of a real cataclysm - which is, let’s face it, the way United’s season has panned out.)

David Moyes indeed. The man is nothing but a daisy.

They should’ve hired Jürgen Klopp - wenn du mich fragst.

“A Klopp is a Klopp is Klopp”…sozusagen…

Jürgen Klopp scares die Hölle out of mich…

It’s the Chuck Norris factor - the sheer power of the (stubbly) beard!


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“There was an Old Man of Ancona,
Who found a small Dog with no Owner,
Which he took up and down
All the streets of the town;
That anxious Old Man of Ancona.”
Edward Lear

There was a young dentist Malone
who had a charming girl patient alone.
But in his depravity
he filled the wrong…

…ok, let’s just leave it at that.


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How much is that doggie in the window? (arf! arf!)
The one with the waggley tail
How much is that doggie in the window? (arf! arf!)
I do hope that doggie’s for sale

I must take a trip to California
And leave my poor sweetheart alone
If he has a dog, he won’t be lonesome
And the doggie will have a good home



72.5 of 1000.001

How much is that dude on Youtube? (Glare! Growl!)
The one with a shaven head
How much is that Linguist on Youtube? (Sneer! Laugh!)
Who knows what Chomsky said

I must take a trip to his house
With flea killer spray and a broom
If he lets me do a revamp
He’ll no longer live like a tramp


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“Mangio – di gusto -
il cane arrosto.
Ma almeno il muso
andrebbe escluso.” (Toti Scialoja)

I eat – with gusto -
the roast dog.
But at least the muzzle
should be excluded. (My translation)

When I want to cheer up.
I will dine on roast pup.


I chew and I guzzle,
But won’t eat the muzzle.


And I chew on apace,
But I don’t eat the face. (A friend of mine)

Who knows why peoples choose to eat some kinds of animals and refuse to eat others.
I am not a dog eater, but I know there are peoples who eat dog meat.
During World War I and II some Italians ate cats.
In a town near where I live, people eat frogs. They make a delicious frog soup, they say.
In my town my fellow citizens are crazy about horse meat. Queen Elizabeth would be horrified by the idea of it. The legend tells that if one eats horsemeat, one increases one’s own virility and, as Prinz might say, one would be ready to imitate Mr. Malone.

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  • Mummy, I wanna have a dog!

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“The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf
Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind
Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nimphs are departed.
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.”

  • Bow wow bow wow bow wow, bow wow bow wow bow wow bow wow bow wow.

“The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers,
Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends
Or other testimony of summer nights. The nimphs are departed.
And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors;
Departed, have left no addresses.
By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept…”

  • Bow wow bow wow bow wow, wow bow bow bow, bow bow wow wow.

  • Helen, what’s that terrible barking? Who is barking?

  • It is Fluffy, my darling, our neighbour’s new pet: just the flat above us.

  • Oh no! No no no… Bloody Hell!

  • Bow wow. Bow wow bow wow, wow.

(The poor guy was reading " The fire sermon" from The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot)

Hmmm, i think I crossed over to the weird part of the internet again.

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Twice a day millions of dog owners take their pets out for a stroll in order to make them have a pee and get rid of faeces. Every day millions of dog owners pick up the waste matter of their lovely dogs; some by using a little dustpan and a plastic bag, some just a plastic bag, others only a sheet of paper…
I wonder what weird forces make millions of dog owners pick up the shit of their dogs twice a day for a period of, let’s say, fifteen years.
There are, of course, dog owners who never pick up the solid waste substance of their pets, but that’s another story.


Isn’t this joke wearing a little thin now?