Bill's Story: Chapter 3

When I went to get the paper this morning I saw my neighbor Ted. Typical right? Except he was squatting and hunched over something by my garbage cans. When I yelled "Hello Ted", as is my custom, he glared at me and made a hissing noise. I think he's probably a zombie. He was either eating a rotten bag of potatoes or a small child. I don't know how any of that got in my garbage. I take solace in the fact that at least he's not a raccoon. My dog Trevor got bitten by a couple raccoons last week. Doctors told me he has rabies. I know better. Trevor is now a raccoon zombie. I'm pretty sure both he and my neighbor are plotting to eat me. And then steal my flat screen TV.

Bill's Story: Chapter 2

So Trevor (my dog) kept me up last night. He kept barking at the corner of the room. My guess is he saw the invisible psycho clown that has been trying to get me for years. Dogs for some reason can always see invisible things. It's like a sixth sense. Except, I don't know if they only have five to begin with. I pretty sure Trevor has 15. One of them I now know is sensing invisible psycho clowns. Others are more obvious. Like knowing whether or not an animal or object is worth a hump. I bet you wish you had a dog named Trevor.

Bill's Story: Chapter 1

Hi. My name is Bill. I live at 123 Fake Street. I have a dog named Trevor. I own a farm and sell oats to the Chinese. They love whole grains. Just like my mother in law. Tough luck for her though; she was told by her doctor last week that she can't have gluten, whole grains, or anything that resembles Keanu Reeves. Her doctor is a former hippy who still lives in a commune and runs a meth lab with her "mermaid" friends. Makes me glad mermaids still have friends. My sister and one of her good friends wish they were mermaids. I guess that's all well and good, until you realize you're in essence a paraplegic. But it's a romantic notion, if you don't mind being hit on by the occasional walrus, manatee, or on an off day, a narwhal.