Conversation from Home
I was walking into the kitchen when the dog barked at me:
Me: Wacoo want foo?
Me: Stupid dog…
Dog: Woof! Woof!
Me: A’ite! It’s on now! Who you to think you are, getting all up in mah grill huh? You run the place? You run the place? No bitch. I pay rent. I run the place. All you do is be rubbing yo butt juices all over the flo’. How you be telling me what to do? Huh? Huh? Get a job! You get a job and the we talk bitch!
Dog: Woof! Grr….
Me: I ain’t scared! You ain’t nothing! I’ll fucking eat you. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. I roll fo’ dim sum too bitch. How ’bout some dog fried rice? Some mushu dog? Yeah, that’s right, be scared. Don’t step lest you want yo’ ass in an eggroll. I’m serious dawg!
Dog: (snorts and leaves)
Me: That’s right! You better recognize! This is mah house bitch! Mah house! Yeah! Imma mark this shit up… (me lifting one leg, unzipping my fly).
At this point I realized I was talking shit to a dog and stopped.