Everybody I know who has a dog usually calls him “Rover” or “Boy.” I call mine “Sex.”
Now, Sex has been very embarrassing to me.
When I went to the City Hall to renew his dog license, I told the clerk that I would like a license for Sex. He said, “I’d like to have one too.” 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 hotel clerk that I wanted a room for my wife and me, and a special room for Sex. He said, “Every room in the place is 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 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 T.V.” 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 the alley at 4 o’clock in the morning?” I said, “I’m looking for Sex.”
My case comes up Friday.
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