I love dogs.If I see a dog,
I love it,I get excited.
I'm very tall,and especially,
if it's like a cat-sized dog,I want to pick it up.
That's how I love animals.I want it close.
It looks so small.Bring it up here
where I can see it.
It's always a gamblepicking up a dog,
'cause I'm never surewhere they bend.
It's never the same.
Where do dogs bend?It's a gamble.
They're like rigidlittle furry tables.
You got to go in like a forkliftand just take a chance.
Once you're up in the air,you never know
when's it gonna yieldto that lowercase "C" shape
with the [bleep]right on your arm.
We all actlike that's not happening.
It's a lovely beast.
The [bleep] is right on my arm.
It's coolerthan the rest of him.
So I'm holding a dog.
It's like a 35-pound dog,
like, a Boston Terrieror something.
Took a picturewith the dog,
proof that I love dogs,
and then I was done.
I'm done with the dog.
I feel you judging me.I'm judging me too.
This is a stupid story.
This is a tale of woe.
I'm done with the dog,and an idiot, me,
I just open...
from here I justopen my arms,
and immediately--I watched it falling,
I was like,"That doesn't look right."
'Cause this [bleep] dogdidn't put his paws out
to cushion the blow.
He put his paws to the side
like a goddamnadrenaline junkie skydiver
trying to get the most juiceout of the run.
His arms flailedlike an old man
shooing mosquitoesat a company picnic.
And then he greeted the earthwith his face.
Are you listening to me?
He greeted the earthwith his face.
Do you know the sound of a dogcrumbling into the earth?
I do.It's terrible.
It's like droppinga hairy baby.
Everyone hates you.
You have no choices, though.
You open your arms and dropa dog,
it starts freefalling,you have two choices:
One, let it go,which is what I did.
The only other choice you have--I've thought about it--
is to own it and be like...
Pfft! [bleep] your dog.
Your dog is a racist.
I've always hated your dog.