To be fair to the Aggies, the dog was super high when he typed that with just the one working paw.
csb/ For two years of undergrad, we lived over in Cherrywood before it was cool to live over there. And we're sitting outside and my roommates are getting high as fuck. I wasn't smoking but got a solid contact buzz. Anyway, one of the guys hanging out starts blowing smoke at my roommate's dog's face. Seamus, like the Pink Floyd song Anyway, Seamus ends up eating part of a tie-dyed shirt he found inside and is trying to shit it out but is obvious distress. So I offer to drive my roommate and the dog over to that vet that was on the IH-35 access road there north of campus (not sure if it's there anymore). My buddy is high as fuck, the dog looks like it just ate a bag of weed and a swirly shirt from a Dead show, and the Vet is telling me he is highly trained from Texas A&M and can handle this. And being the only relatively "normal" living organism in the room, I was just like "Imma wait outside, y'all figure this out." 60 minutes later, my stoned to the gourd roommate, one the dumbest Aggies I've ever met, and a dog with a Jerry Garcia shirt being yanked from his butt came out the door and we headed back home.
That was the first day I realized none of this is real. Three days later, the guy that brought the weed over that got the dog all fucked up asks me if I'll drive him to College Station because his girlfriend wanted to check out the pre-optometry program at A&M and then we'd stay the weekend and hit up the football game. The dog later goes blind, she goes into optometry, and I run into Taylor at the Maryland game in DC a few years back and he's wearing a tie-dye Longhorn t-shirt. I'm obviously insane, but why do people keep trying to make it worse?