Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout

would not take the dog hair out.

She’d scour the graveyards for brains for her jams.

And hit the free clinic for more dental dams.

And though her pimp would scream and shout

She simply would not take the dog hair out.

And so the dog hair piled up to the ceilings.

And, as it did, grew consciousness and feelings.

It grew eyeballs and ears and even a heart

and a nose it regretted when the pimp ripped a fart.

Dog hair covered the floors and it covered the walls.

And grew hands to scratch its big hairy balls.

And one day when Sarah came home from the store

It hairy tongue kissed her and she wanted more.

And so they were married in the little town square

And nine months later she gave birth to some hair.

Gross.

So remember the tale of Sarah Stout

And always, always take your dog hair out.

See more of Todd Baxter’s fantastical photos here.