An old dude with grey hair
And a camera strapped around his neck
Strolls up to the bar
Complaining about his stomach
And what ‘they’ did
To ‘his’ Red Wings.
He’s wearing
A spiked leather collar
As well.
I ask him
If he’s a Rottweiler.
“I’m a Rottenweiler!”
He says.
“Well in that case, let me buy you a beer.”
I tell him.
“Make it a seltzer. My stomach is killing me.”
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