Chapter 363

This is from an avid reader who wishes to remain anonymous:

What NOT to Name Your Dog

Everybody who has a dog calls him “Rover” or “Boy.” I call mine “Sex”.

Now, Sex has been very embarrassing to me. When I went to City Hall to renew his license, I told the clerk I would like to have a license for Sex. He said, “I’d like to have one too.” Then I said, “But this is a dog.” He said, “I don’t care what she looks like.” Then I said, “You don’t understand. I’ve had Sex since I was nine years old.” He said, “You must have been quite a kid!”

When I got married and went on my honeymoon, I took the dog with me. I told the motel clerk that I wanted a room for my wife and me, and a special room for Sex. He said that every room in the place was for sex. I said, “You don’t understand, Sex keeps me awake at night.” The clerk said, “Me too.”

One day I entered Sex in a contest but before the competition began, the dog ran away. Another contestant asked me why I was just standing there looking around. I told him I had planned to have Sex in the contest. He told me that I should have sold tickets. “But you don’t understand,” I said. “I had hoped to have Sex on TV.” He called me a show-off.

When my wife and I separated, we went to court to fight for custody of the dog. I said, “Your Honor, I had Sex before I was married.” The judge said, “Me too.” Then I told him that after I was married, Sex left me. He said, “Me too.”

Last night, Sex ran off again. I spent hours looking around town for him. A cop came over to me and asked, “What are you doing in this alley at 4 o’clock in the morning?” I said, “I’m looking for Sex.”

My case comes up Friday.

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From the telephoneman i asked the doctor who I should get to help me get fit again, “Physiologist, physiotherapist, personal trainer?”

After examining me he just said, “Necromancer!”

✧ ✧ ✧ mihickman provided this a very vivid review

Not sure where this came from

Restaurant review

A dinner at the Indian Palace is an unforgettable experience, not to be missed.

It’s a beautiful restaurant, the food is fantastic, and you’ll be thinking about it long after the meal is over.

We started with the Date and Almond Naan, which was sweet and delicious.

The Butter Chicken, known in some places as Makhni, was tender, moist pieces of dark chicken meat, smothered in a delicious sauce with tomatoes, honey, cardamom, and what I am assuming was a pound of laxatives.

The Three Greens Saag was wonderful, and not loaded with butter or cream - just fresh and delicious kale, spinach, and mustard greens. Hearty, bold, and certainly capable of demolishing even the stiffest constipation.

To the white dude working the tandoors: you go sir! The Tandoori Prawns were cooked beautifully, seasoned to perfection, and tore through me with the awesome fury of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Bravo.

The Duck Biryani, a special not on the menu, I would say, is not worth it. It’s two cups of rice and a duck thigh, and we were surprised to discover later that it cost $28. My wife thought it was going to be around $8.

My sense of remorse doubled this morning as it ripped its way out of me in a raging fiery whirlwind of poopy terror.

The meal was delectable, exotic, and incinerated everything in my intestines. My morning was an unforgettable thrill ride.

The exotic flavours and aromas of India came flooding back to me as I literally peed out of my butt.

Four stars for the truly delicious food and impeccable service, minus one star for expensive biryani, and for turning me into a human flamethrower.

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