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Christmas Eve at Casa Weenie

Merry Christmas to some, and to some a good breakfast platter.
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Master Sommelier

Mr. Weenie knows how to treat a lady.
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Entomology for Dummies

It's an honest mistake. When they say everything's bigger in Texas, they mean everything.
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The Art of Negotiation

He never had a chance.
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Living Room Refugee

It's complicated
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The Future’s So Bright

The Future's So Bright
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Chick Magnets

Chick Magnets
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Homeland Absurdity

homeland-absurdity

Even on vacation, Mr. Weenie takes the job seriously. Not his job, but a job.

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It’s Not Brain Surgery

I thought the pain in my stomach was just gas, so of course I had to update my status on Facebook. My friends weren’t amused though—they were worried—so I called a nurse, who told me to come in and see a doctor. Me: I have a few errands to run first. Do you think I could come in later? Nurse: I really think you should come in right away. Me: What’s the worst that could happen if I were to run just one errand? Nurse: Death. As far as side effects go, death is right up there with heartburn and diarrhea, so I promptly drove to the doctor’s office, where I was ushered past jealous scowls and deposited in an exam room. There wasn’t even time to disrobe before a doctor arrived and poked my belly just one time. After peeling me off the ceiling, a kind nurse instructed me to report directly to the emergency room for an appendectomy. The moral of the story: If your Facebook friends don’t fall for a fart joke, you may want to contact your doctor.

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Direct Communication

Being direct is generally a good idea. Generally.
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