I've just come back from Village Hall and I didn't see a Board member around.
Are you sure that we have a Village Board? I was snooping around there and didn't see much. Yet I felt a little uncomfortable there like everything was imaginary. I think Village Hall is virtual reality. Incidentally, whatever they use for cleaning their carpets smelled awfully strong. It almost blew out my sniffing apparatus.
One woman was sneezing here fool head off. She said she was allergic to dogs, but she thought it strange as there were no dogs around. Even though I was there and she shouldn't be able to sense me, being only imaginary. So how could she be allergic to me? Can you fathom that, an imaginary dog bringing on such an allergic reaction? I need to look into that at another time.
Anyway, I heard somebody say they had to get something ready for Monday evening's Board meeting. Is that when they meet? Are you sure? If no one attends those meeting how does anyone know that they actually have Board meetings? If a tree falls in a forest and there's no one to hear it, you know. . . was the tree actually there and what about the forest itself?
You don't think that makes sense, but do you know of anyone that has actually attended a Village Board meeting?
That guy would have to be pretty dull guy. You did? Yeah, that proves the point, but even so that was long time ago. You haven't seen any media reports of Board meetings in the last few months, have you? There you are. No forest, no trees, no sounds.
I heard someone say “dog on it.” They sure detected quite early that I wet on it. But it was only meant to be imaginary wet. Isn't that odd? A real person couldn't have detected imaginary wet? Well, you, you might also be imaginary as I've suggested.
Oh! I did find some news for you. One said, that now with Ray Cession programs coming from Washington D.C., they'd likely be able to finance a new police station. I didn't find out what Ray Cession's programs were. Oh! That's what it is? How should I know, I'm not an econ om—one of those.
I hope you don't expect me to go there again to snoop around. It's kind of creepy being with unreal people, imaginary people, especially after I've got so used to you. Well, I'm not completely used to you as yet.
I have to tell you again, I don't like that cleaning fluid. It's in my head. And I'm still trying to figure out how that one person figured out that a dog wet on it.
Tell me how far does these imaginary stuff go before it becomes real, as some might think? That allergic sneezing was a puzzler too, “dog-on-it.”
But I still think that if I go to a Monday evening meeting like you'd want me to, I'll only see automated manikins sitting around a board, that is a table or in an enclosure.
But you're real, I think, and you believe in reality, but I can sniff unreal people, imaginary people a mile away. I doubt that I can bring back any reality from that place, if I go there.
By the way, I think you should start calling me Sport, after all, wasn't that your dog's name when you were a kid and now you imagine that I'm his reincarnation?
I think we could be more comfortable with each other if we were on a first name basis--unless you'd like to call me Mr. Sport. That would fit too. Dog-on, I've got a personality that won't stop. What a dog!