![]() (Reminder for those who forgot: I’ve turned into a dog and am imprisoned within my remote Vermont cabin.) My food supply has run out, and I’ve been forced to hunt down and eat the mice in the basement. I’m finding it harder to control my temper than it used to be, back when I was a human. MAYBE I SHOULD HAVE USED ALL CAPITAL LETTERS TO POINT OUT THAT I EXPECT TO DIE IN MY REMOTE VERMONT CABIN AFTER INEXPLICABLY TURNING INTO A FUCKING ENGLISH COCKER SPANIEL. I’m so sorry to inconvenience you all with a few tactful requests for assistance relating to my instantaneous corporeal conversion to another species. It looks like about fourteen people have defriended me. Oh, and also, I’m now a dog, a fact none of you seems to be picking up on. events, please note that I’m staying in my remote cabin in Vermont indefinitely and am unable to attend. ![]() While I certainly appreciate receiving event invitations from many of you to your improv-comedy shows and poetry readings and Wednesday-night d.j. Again, directions are below to the cabin where, it goes without saying, I’m incapable of opening the front door. No one seems to believe me, let alone be offering help, and I’m getting worried that I’ll eventually starve to death here, still trapped in my new canine body. My eyesight is really poor, so it’s hard to make myself out in the oven door, but for anyone who’s interested, I think I’m an English cocker spaniel. I’m actually a dog right now, and have been for the past seventy-two hours. O.K., I totally understand your reactions-ha ha, Gary, what a joker, pretending to have metamorphosed into a dog and using Facebook to alert everyone. So, to be clear: I have turned into a dog and need someone to rescue me from my remote Vermont cabin. Thank you to everyone for “liking” my last post, but given that all of the comments were along the lines of “Cute puppy!” and “Where’d you get your new little pal?,” I assume none of you read it, but merely looked at the photo and assumed I purchased a dog.
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