Everybody who has a dog calls him Rover or Lassie.
I called mine S*x. Now S*x has been very embarrassing to me:
When I went to City Hall to renew his dog license, I told the clerk I would like to have a license for S*x.
He said. “I would like to have one too.”
Then I said. “But this is a dog.”
He said he didn’t care what she looked like.
Then I said. “But you don’t understand I have had S*x since I was 9 years old.”
He replied that I must have been quite a kid.
“When I got married and went on my honeymoon, I took the dog with me. I told the hotel clerk I wanted a room for me and my wife and a separate room for S*x.”
He said. “Every room in this place is for s*x.”
I said. “You don’t understand. S*x keeps me awake all night.”
And the clerk replied. “Me too,”
“I entered S*x in a contest, but before the competition began, the dog ran away. Another contestant asked me why I was standing there looking around. I told him I had planned to have s*x in the contest.”
He told me that I could have sold tickets for that.
“But you don’t understand, I hope to have S*x on T.V.” He called me a Showoff.
When my wife and I separated we went to court to fight for custody of the dog. I said.
“Your honour I had s*x before we were married.”
The judge said. “Me too.”
Then I told him that after we were married s*x left me.
He replied, “me too”.
“Last night S*x ran off again. I spent hours looking around for him. A cop came over and asked me.”
“What are you doing wandering around the alley at 4 am for?”
I replied. “I am looking for S*x.”
My case comes up in court on Monday!”
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