Dogscape | CreepCast

The holidays mean more travel, more shopping, more time online, and more personal info in more places that could expose you more to identity theft.

But Life Lock monitors millions of data points per second. If your identity is stolen, our U.S.-based restoration specialists will fix it guaranteed or your money back.

Don't face drained accounts, fraudulent loans, or financial losses alone. Get more holiday fun and less holiday worry with Life Lock.
Save up to 40% your first year. Visit lifelock.com slash podcast.

Terms apply. Tito's handmade vodka is America's favorite vodka for a reason.

From the first legal distillery in Texas, Tito's is six times distilled till it's just right and naturally gluten-free, making it a high-quality spirit that mixes with just about anything-from the smoothest martinis to the best Bloody Marys.

Tito's is known for giving back, teaming up with nonprofits to serve its communities, and do good for dogs. Make your next cocktail with Tito's.

Distilled and bottled by Fifth Generation Inc., Austin, Texas. 40% alcohol by volume, savor responsibly.

Welcome back to Creepcast.

Today we are diving into a nice body horror world of Dogscape, which is funny because right before this, we were looking at Dogscape, and there's apparently a doggy daycare called Dogscape.

And this story is tagged with a not-safer for word content warning. So I would recommend changing your LLC immediately.
Isaiah, give us a little rundown of Dogscape. So Dogscape was a story that

has been around a while. I remember people talking about it back during like the Creepypasta heyday.

If I recall right, or from what I can find, it seems to be a collaborative effort that was started on 4chan.

So I think some people, like someone posted the prompt and other people started to build off of it. So it's like a group of anonymous users.

The Creepypasta website says that it was created by users from 4chan and Something Awful. So it just seems like it was a group project of sorts.
The story itself is broken into multiple logs.

Maybe different people wrote different logs or gave like critiques about what should be in it or whatnot. But it's like an anonymous collaborative writing project.

I remember people talking about this one a lot. I remember a lot of people considering it one of the better ones.
But historically on this podcast, that goes both ways.

Every time they write, sometimes they're very wrong. That's true.
That is very true. Well, without further ado, why don't we step into the insane world of

dogscape? And like I said, not safe for work tag. Trigger warning.
Don't know what's into the future, but

warning. Danger.

Another thing on the show that historically has been not great and people get really mad at.

A

warning to weary travelers. Bumpy road ahead, right?

I feel, I don't know about that phrasing on it.

Thank you to everyone supporting us on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. It means a lot.
If you could give us a rating, we'd greatly appreciate it.

And of course, thank you to our lovely, lovely patrons who we love so much, who allow us to do stupid things like this podcast and other weird tangents and projects.

You guys are the best. We have a short,

exclusive for Patreon story going up there shortly. So stay tuned for that.
Actually, I have no idea when this video is coming out. So it may already be out by now.
Who knows? I'm stupid.

But no.

I think that's everything.

Shut up. I think that's everything, right? Yep.
So let's, hey, let's walk down the bumpy road that is Dogscape. Starting.

I don't like that you started calling it bumpy when you found out there's a not safe for work tag. The rippled, the sticky, and

probably what. Okay, all right.
Well, world of dogscape. Oh, gosh.

When it gets,

I don't think there's actual dogs in the story. I don't think there's a dog in the dog.

If there is no dogs in Dogscape, I'm going to be fucking livid. Well, I think it's like the essence of dogs, but I don't think there is a dog.
I may be wrong.

The essence of a dog. What does that mean? There's like pieces of them.
There's like the... That's a death dog for me.
If I see a snout,

little dog snout, little boop a snoot.

Yeah, exactly. It's like a dog's face embedded into a tree, and I'm like, like, oh, cute little pupper.
And I just boop a snoot. He does,

that'd be nice.

Log one.

I awaken. I don't know it at the moment, but this day marks my fourth straight year of existing in the dogscape.

I push myself up from the carpet of writhing, twitching dog flesh beneath me and rise to my feet, stretching in the morning sun.

Took me a while to learn to balance on the layer of solid dogs that now blankets every inch of solid ground. But nowadays, I can walk and run as easily and as fast as I ever did on soil or concrete.

Perhaps faster. When dog flesh...
This was... By dog flesh, does it mean like a world of just dog skin, or is it just a bunch of dogs fused together and you're constantly walking on dog?

I think we get more details later, but in my mind, it's like, is it Dahl, the painter who had all the depictions of like weird hellscapes? It wasn't Dahl. Who was the guy that had the

paintings of like

these empty landscapes? With like, he did the black portraits where it was like, there was like these heavy black images in the midst of it. Do you know who I'm talking about? No, not really.

I would have said Gustav. Yeah, Gustav Dahl, whatever.

Hold on, this is important. It'll be good for the visual.
Hold on. No, Bacinski.

Yeah, Bakinsky. It's him.
Bakinsky. Bakinski.
Okay. So the way those paintings looks, where it's like these weird, empty landscapes and stuff like that, I imagine that, but it's dog skin.
Okay.

That's how it looks in my mind. Like these kind of nothing,

empty horizons, you know?

That's how it looks in my head. That was definitely worth the time it took to find that.
100%. This was a city once, I think.
Though which one I can't remember.

I only owe my guess to the massive pillars of dogs jutting into the sky. Perhaps ancient buildings now, completely filled and overgrown by canine biomatter.

I climbed one once, sinking my fingers and toes deep into the dog wall to gain purchase, and after hours and hours of climbing, I was rewarded with an incredible vista.

Fur and eyes, panting tongues and wagging tails, hugging the contours of the once barren land and stretching in a single amoebic mass farther than the eye can see.

So yeah, it's like one giant blob fusion of dogs, it seems like, makes up the entire landscape. Now I don't do that though.
Now I merely go about my day.

I hike to the gardens where the dog plants sprout up in bizarre shapes from the floor of the dogscape and reach up to pluck the fetal puppy fruits right off the wagging, energetic branches.

I bite into the succulent flesh, the juices dribbling down my chin and dripping down to be reabsorbed by the ground flesh and revel in the savory taste.

I'm thirsty, so I range until I find one of the motherhounds. There I suckle at the teat patch until I've had my fill of milk.

Sometimes I see other humans around me, as well adapted to the dogscape as I am, but I barely acknowledge them, say nothing.

What, after all, is there to say? The world is different now. What meaning would our old words have?

Free-ranging dogs are becoming rarer and rarer to see now, and those I do see seem as lost, as passive as I am.

They too graze on the dog plants, step carefully over the undulating, bleeding dog floor, dimly acknowledge myself and one another.

In the distant sky and on the far horizon, I sometimes see massive forms sail or crawl or undulate.

And I wonder if in this new world, normal, singular, ambulatory dogs have become as obsolete as I am. End of vlog one.

That's uh, well, that's a lot.

It's insane to think that there's just like giant nipples everywhere that you're supposed to crawl up to. That's how you stay fed.
You're like walking around.

There's also two, it's not even that you're alone. It's like there's other people, but it's like, what the fuck? Like, what's the point of even talking to each other? You know what I mean? Like,

pretty brutal. He talks about dog plants coming up and they pluck the fetal puppy fruits, which I imagine are like either the

malformed blobs of newly born dog flesh, or it's like

wrongly grown flesh. So you have to eat the flesh and drink the milk to live.

That's rough.

This is a very rough start to us.

I like how also it's like, it doesn't even tell us, like, well, here's how I got here. It's just like, well, this is just the world war.

This is the dogscape. This is the dog escape.
It's what it looks like. I will say that it is a very brutal world from the get-go.
It's very creative in its brutality, right?

Like all the little details of how they have to survive, and people don't even really care to interact with each other anymore. Yeah.
Log two.

I dug down once, down beneath the dogs, beneath the hair and the ears and the barking. It was hard and took a lot of planning.

I had to destroy one of the dog trees with my hands, rip out the twisted, yards-long communal spines that served them as branches, and lash them together with tendons and skin.

But soon I had tools, pitchforks, spears, shovels, picked a spot where the dog floor seemed shallower, set to work.

The blood started spurting when my spear first broke the surface and didn't stop for hours and hours and hours.

I was drenched in gore and viscera, covered in flecks of bone and meat and brain, and I learned to ignore the sickening squelching sounds, ward off the smell, and just keep going deeper and deeper, spearing and levering out dogs of stranger and stranger size and build.

Dogs with two heads, dogs with human hands, dogs with writhing tentacles where their back legs should be.

Eventually, I came to the end of the dogs, or perhaps the beginning of whatever lies beyond the dogs. An expanse of multicolored, patchwork fur that extended as far as I could dig in any direction.

I could perceive it with great difficulty, but it barely bled. Try as I might.

I could only barely peel the skin away, revealing a layer of striated, grayish muscle beneath. It started to tremble as I watched it, shaking the very dog matter around me.

And I realized that the dogscape was beginning to regenerate itself, close in over me, seal me in.

So I fled, climbing back up into the light. End of vlog two.
That's like this. So this reminds me.
There's a lot of stories you read where it's like humans are made into flesh stuff, you know? Yeah.

Like you see insides of like hives of creatures or caves or alien planets where it's like human flesh. It's very

like the alien hives from the movie aliens. You know, like the xenomorphs make like the walls and like the slime everywhere that's like themselves.
It's like those settings, but dog.

Yeah, those settings, settings but dog i think that the reason that it is a dog is uh it adds to that surrealist kind of fucking nightmare it's weird it's like if it was if it was humans you would be i there's just something so uh abnormal about choosing a dog for this landscape you know what i mean you think it's just because dogs are so innocent or like dogs are like

i think you know what i mean i think it's because everyone likes dogs you know um

and it's like well nothing bad would happen to them you know but now it's like what if that thing was the form that some cosmic being or like some presence we couldn't understand.

What if that was the form it used to lay a flesh curtain over the earth, you know?

Yeah, and like all the bio, it's like a sick game like, oh, you can survive, but you have to use the biology of the dog to do so in a gross way.

Which saying that out loud, I'm now worried about where the not safe for work tag comes in, but we'll see.

I'm wondering, because I thought it was really interesting too, that if you pierce the ground, ground, it kind of reminds me,

or just it's interesting that it's like you stab the ground and it just bleeds and it'll continue bleeding. And then you get to the grayish muscle matter.

And then you can notice, and then you notice that like the tendons and stuff are starting to grow back. It's just like a immortal,

ever-healing, just like

billions of dogs kind of put together and massed together in a weird like ocean. Yeah.
Did you, do, are you familiar with the thing called Mystery Flesh Pit National Park?

Yeah, you've like really at the beginning way early at the beginning of this podcast, you like, I think you even had some merch from it and stuff. I'm pretty sure.

Yeah, I had some merch from it, and I made a video about it way back on the channel.

But the whole idea is that there's this national park that's an open wound on this giant creature that's like the size of Texas that's underground. That's cool.

So they've made like the stomach acids and the lysosomes and like it's cysts and stuff like that into these attractions you can go through and visit.

This feels like a world like that where there's some huge entity underneath and we just see the

presence of, like that we just see the footnotes of the side effects.

And it just so happens to look like dogs. It just seems like dogs or choose the form of a dog.
Also it reminded me of that. Let's not forget that.
Especially the part about digging down.

Also, this is also like, don't forget that this is also

tons of random people coming together to add to this fucking monstrosity. So whoever added this, you're psychopaths.
So there you go. Yeah, yeah.
Right, right, right.

That's what we call you for being more creative than us, psychopaths. True.
Log 3.

The stream trickled warmly past the black leathery edges of the puppy mouth stream.

Saliva waters churned as they flowed from the bed of the stream, lined with the ever-lapping tongues of eager, greeting puppies.

To feel a rock on the shores, to find sharp milk teeth of weaned dogs, cast to the tufts of weeds growing into spits and banks.

The head of the stream is split by a single mound of golden fur, like an upholstered boulder set with a large golden eye that swerves to see passing visitors.

The waters will bubble and froth should the eye see you. The tongues laugh nervous, loving greetings with gurgled yips.
End of log three. It's almost like, it's almost like the perspective of a flea.

You know? Yeah. Like a super tiny thing walking because it describes like the matted hair or like uh the tufts of mange weeds growing into spits and banks, and so all it's describing is like this

uh slobber coming out of a dog's mouth, but it's like running streams. It's very awkward.

It's like man found his way into dog hell. Like when dogs go to hell, this is what it's like.

This is dog hell, yeah, or maybe this is dog heaven. Who knows? I don't know.

Dogs are like, wow, it's just more of me.

That's so cool.

What does a dog have to do to go to dog hell? I think, uh, I think dogs go to dog hell if they eat uh the wrong thing.

Like, if a dog gets into like a big dark Gharadilli chocolate bar, you go to dog hell. They go to hell for that? You'd have to imagine that's part of dog hell.

Don't eat chocolate. I think dogs have commandments now.
I think so because they have such a stringent diet, right? Like, I don't think dogs can eat garlic. There's a lot of things dogs can eat.

I don't think dogs can eat garlic. Yeah, well, hold on.
So they're eating

health. Yeah, but that's okay.
Okay. Well, I see that a little.
I see it. Now that you say it that way, I see what you're saying a little bit.
But dogs, so the saying is all dogs go to heaven.

So they have to automatically go to heaven. They have to commit an act, they have to do something wrong to go to hell, right? So like, is eating something that hurts you wrong?

Like a moral way, you know?

I think

I think what's poisonous.

I think if somebody drinks, and this is controversial, this is a controversial thing to say, I think if a human drank Clorox bleach until they died, I would say that person's going to hell.

And maybe,

and that's, that's, I'm going to also include that in the not safe or work tag so people can't be offended by that. You have been warned.

So, so, so you, you, Hunter Hancock, are making your official statement that if you, if you purposefully take your own life. No, no, no.
no, no, no, you're wrong.

Okay, I'm saying in the context of a dog having stringent diet rules, that if a person knowingly is like, oh, I really, this bleach seems tasty, doing that. Okay, so let me let me change.

So you, Hunter Hancar, are saying that if someone takes their own life by knowingly taking, by drinking bleach, they go to hell. I'm going to say, I will have to confidently say yes.

All right, on the record. So if you take your own life by ingesting something,

or you ate a bunch of batteries, you ate a bunch of batteries, because I'm pretty sure that's count as ingesting something that would kill you. I think so.
Yes. Yeah.
Okay. But any other form.

And I'll be completely honest. This is a thought that I have had for 30 seconds.
So it is not very well thought out.

But I'm just trying to find rules of why dogs go to hell. All right.
Because I know a lot of people are going to say dogs can't do anything wrong. They're beautiful little puppers.
Right. And I agree.

But there there has to be rules dog rules why didn't you put something that's actually like a bad thing like biting kids or you know but chasing the mailman or something like that because to me i'm like that's just that's just dogs a bad moral act that's the dog's way So that's the dog's way, but eating garlic is punishable by hellfire.

Absolutely. Because dogs like to eat all kinds of stuff.
They eat shit that doesn't kill them. They eat everything.
And it's just like, you can eat anything you want. Puke.

You can drink your own piss. You can eat shit.
You can eat whatever you want. You just can't eat these things.

See what I mean? It's like there's a lot of freedom. But he's just like, but they're just like dog god.

The god is

he says, no, he says, no grapes. Rough, rough.
Everyone's like, okay, fine. No dark chocolate.

I'm pretty sure also the list of things dogs

are list of things dogs

can't eat. And a freeze.
That one's on there.

Grape chocolate.

Macadamia nuts. See, how random is that? Nope.
No macadamia nuts. Avocados.
Dogs can't eat avocados. Yeast dough.

Onions. Can't have onions.
Chives. Can't have onions.
That's zironic. Bones.
That can't be. Dairy products.
Garlic. Raw eggs.
Salt. Citrus.
Nuts, onions, cherries. I mean, like, I mean, what exactly?

I mean, nothing. If anything, they're already fucking demons anyways.
Don't eat anything on earth.

The compounded.

The compounded dry nuggets that we pour into your bowl. That's all you can have.
So

if your theory is correct, then

most dogs, because most dogs will have a little bit of that of their life and not die. So most dogs are going to hell as far as you think.

I think Disney did a disservice by saying all dogs go to heaven. I don't necessarily know.
Also, now that we've gotten to the point of this conversation, Hunter Hancock's

from sources across the web. I see all these lists, right? Not once, Isaiah.
Not once is bleach on here.

Well, I feel like that's like saying don't ingest razor blades or a bomb. Well, I think it's okay.
What if they're able to?

What if every dog does that thing like in a cartoon where they eat it and their belly goes really big for a second and it goes back down?

I mean, then I guess it'd be okay, but then according to you, they would go to hell when they die. Can dogs drink bleach.
I think that's a good thing. That's not a pike on Google search for like

I'm joking. Got that.

Can dogs drink an electric collar? Can dogs.

Nope, bleach. They will get poisoned bleach.
Guys,

editor note, put in dog, do not give your dogs bleach. Thank God I read this before.

Also, also, editor, put in an editor note that says Hunter Hancock's official statement, if a dog ever ingests anything, he's not supposed to, or if you, as a human, ingest something that kills you knowingly or otherwise, you go to hell.

Well, yeah, I think that we found today's theme. I think that it's going to be just finding out what exactly makes you go to hell.
And I'm going to have to be the voice of those. And I'm sorry.

So if people go to hell then, I'm even going to say it now. I'm going to say that if humans, you have the same kind of

every time a human eats a grape, they're going to hell. That's what I'm going to say.

Every time you eat something that's poisonous to a dog, you're going to hell. That's only fair.
So most, so most humans are going to hell.

You know what? Honestly, I would say all of them, actually. I would say that's true.

If it's really heaven, Isaiah, I would assume not a lot of people. It's not busy.

You got to give me that one.

Right?

I don't actually have to give you anything. You got it.

For the sake of the bit, I'll entertain your theory that heaven is empty because anyone that's ate an onion is not allowed it. I mean, like, that's the biggest irony of all.

Why'd you put it down there? Why'd you eat it? Just because it's there doesn't mean you have to eat it. You're like, I shouldn't.
You didn't have to eat anything. Because that's the thing.

Two words in heaven, Isaiah. Two words.
Elbow room. And that's what makes it heaven.
Oh.

So there's like seven people up there. I would at least say a baker's dozen.
It's entirely like babies that like died young, too young to eat onions. And I'm not going to touch the baby thing.

I'm not going to be a verdict on that. I will only be a verdict on that.
Oh, now you're not going to touch the controversial.

I'm not trying to say anything controversial.

Right. Log four?

Log four. Log four, I think.
The dogscape. That's what we call it.
We sit around campfires and cook the whelps we collect from the dog trees.

The only flammable material we have is the acrid fir that grows everywhere. It offends all senses, but soon...
The meal is prepared. The only food sources are the dog trees and the mother mounds.

Some foolish enough dick for meat. Though the reward is great, many don't come back.
For the dog flesh regrows above them, trapping them inside the moist ground.

Primitive tools are forged from bones and leather, such as shovels and knives and clothes. I have lived here for as long as I can remember.

There are faint shimmers of the time before the dog flesh, but... What use is there dwelling on the past when they cannot fill our stomachs in the present? I'm our tribe scribe.
My name is Doc.

I used to have a real name, but it escapes my memory. I record all of our findings and knowledge in my leather pages, using dog blood as ink.
There were times when there were more of us.

The tribe started with as many as 60 people.

Now our numbers are as few as 20. Our leader is Keefe.
He instructs us to find blood, build shelter, and bring fire. He abuses his power.

taking five wives and eating more than his share of the food, but those who speak against him meet meet death in the night.

It is hellish, but there's no other choice. Without guidance, we will die out here.
So we must remain under his leadership. I like the idea of like, I had a name, but I forgot it.

There's too many dogs to remember what my name was.

There's so many dogs, and I am just called spot. No, I tell you what, this is hell.

Imagine the only meals you get are dog meat, dog titty milk, and then like polyamorous couples all around you, just uh, just like becoming engorged from dog meat. What is this, Portland?

Got him.

Ooh, got him.

Got him.

Portland just becomes like a mass of flesh and burn. It's like, what is this? Portland?

Again.

What is Alt J going to play down the road later?

The tribe has like a court gesture who just walks around the whole time. Like, what is this? Portland?

No one knows what Portland is.

So the tribe leader has taken five wives. So the rest of them are just like, well,

I guess I'll just sit around here. Yeah, sip on titty milk and fucking paws

until I have to get up tomorrow and do it all over again. Yeah.

Why don't you? They just killed himself. Well,

because there's no onions, bleach, or.

Ah, ah that's right, that's right, that's right, yep, yep, that's true, that's true. They can't go to hell, so they're already there.
If you find a big

dog mouth, you could just put an onion in it, and then that would, that would save the world, right? I'll tell you what, even if I imagine Dogscape, there are no avocados, grapes, nuts.

Oh, that would.

Yeah, that would make sense. That would actually track.

Good reasoning. Good reasoning.
I want to take a moment to thank today's sponsor, Aura. It's still the spooky season when something as scary scary as identity theft could be around the corner.

I mean, take a look at this report. It's insane the amount of personal information on here that data brokers could have access to.

This is everything they could get a hold of, and it goes on for pages and pages. The amount of detail is absurd.

I mean, at this point, it's impressive if you haven't had an account hacked or fallen for some phishing scam.

I say, as the guy that recorded a video and then gave my Twitter login to someone unknowingly. Trust me, having your information stolen can be scary.

Thankfully, today's sponsor, Aura, is here to help. Aura protects your privacy by identifying data brokers who are selling your info.

And it does the hardest part for you by taking your information off of phishing sites and making sure it stays off.

And while there are a ton of services that offer the same thing, none of them offer as much as Aura does at their price point. And Aura just makes personal security easier.

You can set up to get alerts whenever your personal information is found online and real-time fraud alerts on your banking or credit card accounts.

Plus they provide things like a VPN, an antivirus, a password manager, and much more. So if you're looking to start taking your internet safety seriously, then now's the perfect time.

That's because if you head to the link in the description at aura.com slash creepcast, you can try Aura for 14 days, absolutely free. That is right, two weeks for free.

That's more than enough time to start getting your info off of these suspicious sites. Again, head to the link in the description at aura.com slash creepcast to start helping yourself today.

Thank you to Aura for sponsoring the show. This episode is sponsored by Ridge Wallet.
Ridge has some of the most durable and stylish wallets on the market.

And now, Ridge has just taken their game-changing wallet and made it even better, introducing Ridge 2.0. Ridge 2.0 wallets are now 10% lighter, giving it the perfect balance of form and function.

Plus, the wallets are more modular with improved cash traps and money clips, and the overall improved surface design gives it a sleek look.

The wallets hold up to 12 cards plus cash and comes in over 50 colors and designs, including pro sports and college teams. That's awesome.

And whatever you choose, Ridge has their built-for-life warranty, so if your wallet is ever lost or stolen, they've got you covered.

For a limited time, ridge is having their huge black friday sale use code creepcast and after your purchase they'll ask where you heard about them please please tell them we sent you thank you so much ridge for sponsoring the show now back to the episode it has been two days since my last riding i'm lucky that keefe cannot read for if he had seen my statements about him i would be dead

yesterday one of our tribe members caught was killed by accidentally stepping into one of the open dogmouths.

His screams of pain as it chewed forced me to crush his skull with a shovel, killing him instantly. The bastard Keefe claimed Kot's food ration as his own.

I can sense the others are beginning to tire of Keith's position of power as well. Nobody spoke a word at that night's feast.
Will not sleep well tonight, hearing Kot's screams in my nightmares.

So is this saying he fell into like a mouth that was like big enough to catch a person, like a torso inside of and his top half was sticking out? Yeah.

Because I imagine if you fall into like a giant dog head you just they can't get to you yeah yeah also it seems like you just suffocate that's kind of what they made me think whenever they're like you can dig deeper but it'll regrow and i think you just like probably just suffocate and die

yeah you're just stuck down there or like in uh keefe's case here or cott's case here it seems like he fell into like a sarlacc pit look-and-mouth thing and started chewing him up

i fear for my life peck was killed in front of of us all by Keefe today.

He refused to continue digging for meat, so the monster beat him to death with his bare hands as a sign that he would not tolerate a refusal to work. I cannot stand for this much longer.

Beck was not even an adult. He could not have been more than 17 human years.
This brings our numbers down to 18.

There's Keefe, his five wives, me, and the remaining 11 diggers and gatherers. The others whisper to me in secret that I should be the leader instead.

I guess they think I have all the answers because I'm the scribe. Only time will tell.
I was awoken at the crack of dawn by one of the diggers, Gar specifically.

He told me that tonight would be the night. The others had a plan.
They want me to announce that I am the new leader during the feast.

When he is distracted with rage, they intend to kill him from behind. I tell Gar that I accept his plan and I will assist them tonight.
What have I gotten myself into? Damn them all.

I told Keith I planned to replace him. He arose, filled with rage.
I waited for the blow to strike him. Never hit Keefe.
Instead, it hit me. Garr was Keefe's spy all along.

They dragged me far away from the gardens and tied me to a barren dog tree. He said that a quick death would not befit me, and I will waste away under the deathly sun.

I can just barely reach my journal from here. I suppose this is the end of me.
When the sun was highest in the sky, the heat became unbearable. I saw figures on the horizon.
They were not human.

They were the hounds that come to eat what the humans leave behind. I thought they were going to eat me.
Instead, they went for the blood-soaked meat ropes that held me in place. I was free.

I kneeled down to the hounds and looked deep in their eyes. I told them I knew where they could fill their bellies to the brim.
They barked once and what I assumed was confirmation.

I stood up and we set off to feast. When we reached the settlement, it was amidst their feast.
I approached, death in my gaze. Keefe was shocked and angry.

The diggers and gatherers were quick to his defense. I guess he bribed them.
I whistled, and the hounds slinked through the fur to my side. We struck like a lightning bolt.

My fists smashed into Keefe's face just as my hounds pounced upon his closest guards. Though I was physically weak, I was quite fast.

I stole a shovel and quickly buried it into Keefe's bloat while he was disoriented. The smell was sickening, as I expected from a man like him.
The hounds made quick work of the rest.

I helped, of course.

None were spared. I made sure I had my vengeance upon Gar.
The hounds were quite full by the end. I took my time and buried each corpse, or what was left of them.

I leave this book upon their graves in the hopes that someone who can understand it finds it. If you do, take heed of these words.
Dogscape knows all and is strict but fair.

She provides justice where justice is due. End of log four.
This is

yeah, that was log four.

So it seems that each log's from a different point of view, right?

And I like the vignettes that some people don't interact with people at all. Some are in these weird like caveman-esque tribes

where it's kill or be killed. The dogscape almost has like he almost has a conversation with it where they both understand what the other one wants.

It's fascinating how, again, it's collaborative, so different people have different perspectives, but it's fascinating how much can be done with like a barren wasteland made of dogs, right? Yeah.

Well, I think so far log four was my favorite. I think that the

I think that dogscape is very interesting as a post-apocalyptic setting. Like even if we never figured out what it was from, I like this environment that's like extremely hostile and kind of silly.

But I like the idea of like weird tribes, power dynamic type stuff that's starting to form.

And then you get these little glimpses and these little vignettes of people that are existing in this post-apocalyptic landscape. I think like that's a lot of fun.
Yeah. Yeah.

It's very absurdist, but it does something.

It's

connected enough or like close enough that you can still feel grossed out by stuff, like meat ropes or digging down to flesh and stuff, where it's still relatable enough to be gross, but everywhere else, it's totally absurdist.

So it's cool that it does that. It still manages to draw a connection despite how strange the world is.

Log 5. I had a dog right after the dog escape happened.
His name was Carl and he always followed me around. When I was almost dead from starvation, he got me dog fruits.

When I was dying of thirst, he yelled milk in his mouth and got it to me.

One day, his foot got stuck in a mouth and I couldn't get him out. So I watched while it swallowed him.
A few years later, when I went back, Carl was right there, but he was stretched out.

I went to pet him, except it wasn't him, and he bit me, wouldn't let go.

I wonder if people can be part of the dogscape, too.

I miss Carl. So it's under the idea that if you get consumed by the dogscape, that you can, that the dogs themselves just join into the amass.

I wonder if it's kind of like a collective conscious thing, too. Like, is the dogscape multiple, or is it just all one giant kind of like

one giant thought? You know what I mean?

Does Carl have personality in there i don't know uh i feel like if they were actual dogs with individual individuality they'd all be freaking out or panicked or sad but instead they all seem like this unified presence of like

happiness but hunger

um

so

i don't maybe carl's consciousness was fused into the collective but i don't think he alone is still carl you know yeah i mean it kind of means by like it kind of reads i reached out and it bit me it kind of reads like the end of the uh Avangelian remake where everyone joins together in a collective consciousness and then you're kind of just like filled with good memories and thoughts and stuff, but everyone shares the same like kind of uh I don't know emotions and everything, you know what I mean?

Like kind of a weird, super weird idea that obviously, like I like as a human being, you can't probably comprehend, but it would be like it'd be very odd sharing that consciousness with billions of other entities.

Yep. Everything we read is always.

It's always Mother Horse Eyes. It always comes back to Mother Horse Eyes.
It's the flesh interface all over again.

Someone help us run. Log six.
All is one in the new truth. The dog mother is vast beyond imagining and requires many to be kept comfortable and clean.
We chosen do not go unrewarded, however.

In her vast wisdom, the matriarch gives all we need. We sup from her vast teat, a hearty meal unlike any other.
It It invigorates and nourishes us,

canistodians. Oh, like canine custodians.
Canistodians, that's cool. It invigorates and nourishes us, canistodians, and gives us more than we could ever wish.

The time soon approaches, though, to find new workers. The metamorphosis is upon many of us, and soon we will join with the glory of the dog mound.

We are so different from the others as they shuffle about down among the photo groves.

Many of us have a thick coat already. And old Lawrence has already begun to walk on all fours.

Soon we will shed our mortal selves, be part of the dog mother.

Our mother. Yeah, I was wondering at what point would it be that the humans just started to believe that they were dogs?

That they could transfer into dogs or like, maybe by turn themselves over, they mean feed themselves to one of the mouths, you know? Yeah. Yeah.
Like to fuse back into it.

Because that previous guy had the thought of like, maybe people can be part of the dog skate. But here it's like because it says we need younger canisodians, which again, cool word.
Um,

but it's like, so maybe the older ones, when they're unable to help the dog mound or whatever, uh, they feed them, they feed their flesh to the earth so they can become a part of the dog mound.

Yeah, I always love when stories like this dip into those kind of like weird sacrifices, sacrificial rituals and stuff. Always, always so weird, what, or like, it's always weird and uh,

like, uh, I don't know, uh,

what is it like uh

sorry my brain's short-circuiting it's weird and um

all like awe like I'm in awe or whatever what the fuck am I trying to say

it's weird and captivating captivating sorry captivating it's weird and captivating whenever you get into this thing of like how characters in a story start to uh justify how they should like sacrifice themselves for a greater cause otherwise i just think it's i think it's interesting how you can uh roll into that yeah i also think it's

interesting to

have these different competing perspectives that kind of contradict each other in some parts. Like there's the tribes that hate it and like become more primal because of it.

There's those that feel they need to be solitary. There's those that love it and feel they need to worship it.

It's like interesting the ways different minds kind of break going through this world. Log seven.
I think we knew the war had been lost the day the general committed suicide.

The masses of flesh and fur just spread like waves across the cities. We found out that whatever it was, it was drinking the oceans and eating anything it came across.
Airstrikes, tanks, bombs.

It only slowed it down. We were living on borrowed time.
It was unstoppable.

I don't think it was until later that we noticed all the dogs were gone. And then at night, the howling.

It was just too much. Former soldier's face steamed with involuntary tears as he remembered the events.

He sat there, wallowing in his own emotions, telling his story to a skeleton he found. My unit, completely wiped out.
I saw those tentacles and those mouths, and they tore them to shreds. I ran away.

Even when they called for help,

it's all your fault. The dog tree shifted slightly.
The many eyes growing around directed their gaze towards the psychopathic man. You ruined everything!

You killed my friends! My family! God damn everyone!

He ran and stabbed one of the eyes with a bone fragment. A howling noise emerged and a nearby dog tree swatted him several yards.
Broke a few ribs when he hit the ground.

Coughed a bit of blood, but he got back up and charged again. This time he ran towards one of the open mouths around and kicked several of its teeth out.

Bit his foot in response, costing him a toe or two. It was so full of adrenaline he was incapable of registering any kind of pain.

He beat and tore and bided the flesh with his bare hands until he was knee-deep in blood and gore. One of the tubes he tore spilled some sort of digestive fluid all over him.

It burned, but he had to go on. Dug and dug with his bare hands until the ground started to close above him.
He kept digging until he found them. The heart and brain.

He laughed at his fortune of finding both of them so close to each other. He jammed his hands deep into the gray matter, disturbing the contents and slowly losing oxygen in his tunnel of meat.

He gasped and clawed at the heart, tearing it out of place, collapsed and blacked out.

He awoke to many tentacles burying themselves in his body. One hit his spinal cord and fused with his brainstem.
A flood of thought hit him all at once as he suddenly became one with the dogscape.

More tentacles connected themselves to his vital organs as he became assimilated. He saw through every eye in the lands and he felt every single nerve on the planet.

Healing factor continued tearing him apart and adding new pathways and connections. It wasn't long until he was entirely consumed.

His memories faded away as his brain was reorganized into replacing the one he had destroyed. That's pretty cool.

Yeah, it's just a mass of flesh, like a giant conglomerate that consumes anything and just re-registers it for its own system. And we get a little bit of the any living creature's building material.

We get the uh a little glimpse glimpse as well of like the event of the happening, like just the kind of like random apocalyptic day that occurred when everything kind of changed.

Yeah, like they, as he said, they drank the oceans, ate up everything like a giant mass, woke up all at once and took over the world. I want to take a quick moment to thank today's sponsor, Babel.

If you couldn't tell by this podcast, I love stories. It's a way we can communicate with each other.
Stories are the coolest way to share beliefs, thoughts, and opinions.

But it's hard to do that from the other side of a language. And trust me, I know learning a language can be hard and time consuming.
Thankfully, Babel is here to help.

Babel is an award-winning app that makes learning a new language simple and effective. With Babel, you can learn a variety of languages, from Spanish to German to Italian to much, much more.

And their courses are created by over 200 language experts. It's like your own private tutor, and that's where Babel really shines.

You get real-time feedback and progress markers that let you keep track of your success.

Between that and the games to learn new languages or podcasts you can hear in the native tongue, there's so many ways that teach you a language without feeling like a chore.

And even though I'm just a beginner, I think I've got enough figured out for my German courses with Babel to visit the country. Ichise Isaiah, vo iste toileta, ein grussel geschette, beta.

That's what I got. Babel's flexible learning platform lets you start having a conversation in a different language in as little as three weeks.

So to start speaking a new language, click the link in the description or head to babble.com/slash creepcast to get 55% off your subscription.

That is right, over half off your subscription when you use our link. So, join the millions of Babel learners breaking the language barrier every day.

Again, that's our link in the description at babel.com/slash creepcast to get in on this incredible offer today. Thank you all for watching the ad.
Thank you to Babel for sponsoring the show.

We are now back to the episode. Log eight.
It's been three years and two weeks now since I met our another human being.

I know because I've cut a small notch in my left leg for every day, one in my left arm for every week, and one in my right arm for every year.

Admittedly, not the most effective way of keeping track of time, but when I started, I figured I'd be dead or this would be over before it really mattered.

Like I said, I haven't met any other people for a while, but I figured I would write this anyway just in case. It's a warning to others that might be out there.
I ran into something terrible today.

Well, the whole dogscape is terrible, but I mean more terrible.

I think even among the dogscape, it's some sort of crazy abomination, since the feral dogs and groundmouths didn't seem too fond of it either.

That screaming is not something I ever hope to hear again.

But that's not the beginning. I'm sorry about this.
The blood I'm using doesn't really come off the paper, and I can't waste any by throwing it away.

Not even thinking about talking to the other people for years has made me sort of bad at thinking in a straight line, but I'll try. Let me just start over at the beginning.
The day started normally.

It was my weekly gathering day, so I left my tent.

By the way, I left the tent at the foot of a pillar of dogs in the direction of the setting sun if you want it, but you probably won't because the skin has probably gone bad by now.

To collect the dog fruits I would need for the week and to fill a bag or two with milk.

But when I got to the place where there should have been teats, there was just a bloody mess where someone had dug deep into the flesh of the dogscape.

I didn't really think much of it at first, just thought I would need to go looking for a new source of milk, and I saw it. I thought it was another person at first.

If I had stopped to really look first, I wouldn't have had any problems, and I wouldn't be riding this right now, I guess.

I started shouting to get its attention, and I did get its attention because it turned to me. And then I realized that I had made a huge mistake.

Thinking back, the really long arms and the twisty body probably should have been my first clue.

But I didn't really see that anything was wrong until it turned towards me, and I saw what I thought was a head was just a featureless lump of flesh.

Its arms unfolded outwards, each arm ending in two canine legs, and the human face on its chest opened its mouth and started screaming.

I figured it was bad news then and made a mad dash for the nearest pillar of dogs. But it kept running after me, and it was much faster.

Somehow, I managed to make it, and I started scrambling to climb out of its reach.

I didn't get very far before there was a sharp pain in my leg and I looked down and saw that it had bitten me with one of the many canine mouths along the arm things.

I screamed as it pulled me down but that didn't do much and I probably would have died right then if it weren't for what happened next.

Out of nowhere, a mouth I didn't even see when I started climbing the dog pillar bit down on it and then one in the ground.

and they started chewing at it, but that didn't really seem to hurt it, but it let go all the same. I ran away as fast as I could, but I could hear that screaming long after I was out of sight.

I didn't sleep that night. Just before nightfall tonight, I felt like I had to make sure the dogscape had killed it and went to the pillar, but I saw no trace of it.

But the notebook I tore this paper from was there, and I took that. So now, here I am.

I'm not going to stay around here any longer after I finished this, but finding this notebook made me think maybe there are other people, and if so, maybe I should warn them about things like this so if you're reading this good luck oh also i'm moving in the direction of the rising sun so if you can read this you're probably another person so if you go that direction maybe we can meet up and be a little better off than we were end of vlog end of vlog eight it's like forming like conglomerates of people and dogs then running around well i'm wondering if it's uh When it's been consuming people, if it's also been like birthing these weird hybrid

hybrid creatures that even the dogscape doesn't like like it doesn't like that it's just it's like a mixed mixed species kind of thing it would make sense because we know it does it to dogs so if people are getting consumed by it it probably does these weird like it just uses whatever building materials it has and puts it together like play-doh to shove stuff back out there you know yeah what um the only one that has broken the mold is the one of the soldier because all the others are first-hand accounts but that one was like a third-person omniscient perspective Yeah, and I don't mind it.

I don't mind that they haven't been consistent.

Okay. All right, do you, have you been, was it kind of off-putting when it was broken? It's like, it's kind of like all of them are like, I believe this.

And because they're all from a first, no, I'm fine with them all being broken accounts. That's fine.

But where they're all from a first-person perspective, it's like, well, this person could be wrong or this person could not know what they're talking about or they could be crazy.

But in that one about the soldier digging down to the brain and heart, it's like, okay, well, that was just a perspective of no one describing an event that no one could have been witness to.

So it's like, well, we know that's a perfect account of what happened. So it kind of, for me, it kind of hits the speed bump a little bit of being like, oh, these people could be crazy.

Who knows what they're actually saying? Yeah, I mean, I prefer the

personal entries over

the,

you know, the actual like narrative storytelling of like someone talking about someone else or whatever.

But I, but, you know,

all good the same nonetheless. But I do wish it was all consistent, even if it is from other authors.
I think first-person perspectives serve a very bizarre setting like this better.

Yeah, especially since there's very specifically logs. Yeah, log nine.
Ticks are the only thing that seem to like this place. They're everywhere.

During the evenings, I can see massive clouds of the bastards flitting across the matted surface, making the flesh of the dogscape quiver as they drink their fill.

Sometimes, canned legs of various size and deformity burst through the surface to scratch at them. It doesn't work.
All the dogscape gains are vast scratches of scar marks which the fleas feed upon.

Sometimes I rest on the side of a large outgrowth only to realize it's a monstrous tick. They latch on to one of the deep arteries of the dog flesh and endlessly leech off the new world's lifeblood.

I saw a man once. It was hot that day.
I was making my way for a dog pillar and saw him in the distance. He wasn't moving, and as I approached, I saw why.

He was covered in ticks. Not a single spot on him was clear.
What little clothes remained on him were stretched over the

wind, so all you heard was the faint scuttling of their tiny legs scratching against their ludicrously swelled bellies. He must have heard me, because he opened his mouth and tried to say something.

His voice was raspy. His mouth was red, but he did manage to say one word.
Itch. Oh, how good is that? Yeah.

That's awesome. That visual is horrible.

I like log nine a lot for a couple of reasons. One, I like that there are, obviously, there's going to be some things from the old world that are like thriving.

And I love that ticks are moving around like basically like bats or birds.

in like these giant droves but even just the visual of like i don't know hundreds if not thousands of ticks covering every inch of this guy's body, and they're even feeding on him is

yeah, fucking disgusting. And just like at one point, he was fighting it off, but now he can't anymore, so it's just succumbed to it.
Itch. Yeah.

And he also talks about like the giant legs shoot up from the ground and try to scratch at them, and then the fleas come into the holes that are left behind by that. And abnormally

such a brutal biology of everything. An abnormally disfigured leg coming up and then scratching like a dog like that

would be so creepy looking. Yeah.

Oh, man.

I do like, again, I love how

despite the absurdity of this world, there's so many like moments of, oh, that's awful. Like, that sounds absolutely terrible.
The tick man is by far my favorite so far. Tickman's pretty sick.

Tickman's cool. Log 10.
Today is the fifth day of the 12th month of the 654th year. So 654 years into the dogscape? I think that's what they're saying.
Yeah. My gosh.
Okay.

Ours is the final generation after us the dogscape will be all that is left and all remaining men will either absorb into mother dog or perish from this swiftly dying world i have only a vague memory of my mother whether she was killed stolen or absorbed i can't say really no one's quite sure what happened to the woman slowly but surely they've disappeared often vanishing in the night without any warning and leaving no trace women are the only thing of any value in this world anymore and the primary purpose of the tribe is to protect the group's claim to a woman who is used for the benefit of all the members.

Well, that's

okay. Well, all right.
Reproduce and baby. I see where the not safe for work tags.
Yeah, I see where the not safe for work tags come in.

It's interesting to have a group that is 654 years into this thing because you have like you have hundreds of

dozens of generations that have no memory of a world before the dogscape, you know? Yeah, this is a good thing. So yeah, they wouldn't become like these primal animal stuff.

It's terrifying. Our tribe's woman was taken several months ago.
The first month, we mourned her. She may have been a captive in many ways, but many of us could not help but become attached to her.

The second, some of the men began engaging in homosexual activities with one another out of desperation.

I'm sure that I was not the only one who realized that there was little meaning to our continued companionship and that soon the tribe would disband.

This is the third month since she was taken and it's all falling apart. First, the elder was killed over a dispute.

It's really just a confirmation that the unity of the tribe no longer existed, no longer had any reason to exist without the tribe's woman. And so, we began to drift apart.
I know what will come next.

When tribes dissipate, the members, alone and confused, come to depend on the mother dog for sex in much the same way they do for food, warmth, and shelter. Hunter, I don't like

where this is going.

I don't like.

Oh, gosh.

All right. All right.
Here's what we're going to do. Here's what we're going to do.
I'm going to read through this and then we're going to censor.

We're going to bleep out everything that needs to be bleeped out. All right.

So it's just going to be beep

just a lot.

All right. mother dog sex organs dot the landscape like diseased watering molehills in the dog flesh

fucking dog pussy molehills is disgusting watering molehills too is such a oh god

That's so much is the worst way to start your day, just reading that.

you know, I see why the story was on 4chan that felt like I just got slapped by

something awful on an image board. Oh, the men find a sex organ to claim for their own and spend their days thrusting into it.

Often they find entrances near dog trees, screwing when they're desirous, and eating the fetuses when they're hungry.

Oh,

oh, Otter.

Oh, gosh. Yeah, I'm just kind of like digesting the idea of a man having sex with doggassy and then like eating baby hybrid pup dogs, I'm guessing, or even just, yeah.

I think that's the implication, yeah. It's the 600, also it's the 654th year in a dog

symbol.

Yes, yeah, these are rabid human beings, if you can even call them that anymore.

They're like animals. Yeah.
They run around and they're animals.

So we got to censor some of the words. Yeah,

we'll censor it. Yeah, we'll censor it.
Okay.

They have no reason ever to move from their mound. In this way, men forget the world around them and become obsessed with mother dog.
Now not only a mother, but a lover too. It is their everything.

It's common to see skeletons, either bare being picked apart by dogs, their pelvises pelvises still pressing into a dog mound, surrounded by the still reeking stench of their own filth.

I like how they're comparing

a dude fucking a dogassie on the side of a hill to like that of a person that was like left to die on Everest. And they're just like, you know what I mean? The bodies are just left there.

Yeah, just laying around. Yeah.
I also

like.

So I actually,

no,

I like how brutal this depiction is of like how far the world's gone because it's very, very intense. But there's also almost a connection made between it and like

degeneration to the point of like, if you have your basic needs met, you don't go anywhere. You don't do anything.
It's like people have no reason to leave the mounds.

Yeah, I mean, they become protective over them. There's no way that the human.
Yeah, I mean, the human race is probably even lower than like a chimp status.

I mean, probably smart enough to obviously write this down and to articulate with each other, but I just mean, like,

yeah, there's not, there's nothing left. It's just complete debauchery.
And yeah.

Yeah.

It's an interesting, like with everything else, it's interesting how, despite how absurd it is, it ties like growth comparisons of degeneration and stuff.

And I do think, and I do think, even though it is a fucking disgusting mess, I do think this, this story so far works best in this apocalyptic landscape with like this tribal kind of, like, I still like.

I think the tribe makes the most sense. Yeah, yeah, I enjoy that the most.
Yeah, it's certainly the most well-removed from anything.

Earlier, the whole mention of tribes and I forgot my name and stuff like that didn't work as well.

Cause I feel like there's no scenario where right now the world falls apart and I'm like, I forget my name. I'm now green.
Yeah, like if it was like, oh, it's been a year or something like that. Yeah.

Yeah. It's been a year.
I am, I am Waldock commander of the tribe and blah, blah, blah.

But if you're 600 years in, yeah, that makes sense to me.

I guess even if you're a year in, though, too, you could have gone like just completely mad. I mean, you could go postal, but I don't think you're going to be like, I forget my name.

I am now the scribe of the tribe of dogs. Yeah, yeah, yeah.
You know, I see what you're saying. Today is the 27th day of the 12th month, the 654th year.

As I had predicted, the former members of my tribe have slowly but surely fallen into a degenerate lives of mound humpers.

The desperate scum have forgotten their own humanity. Sickening.
I vow never to fall into that disgusting state. And so I will walk this lonely, depraved dogscape searching.
It can't end this way.

With all of humanity uselessly mingled into extinction. So I continue, knowing I may end up hopeless, utterly defeated by the dogscape.

I wonder if that's actually commentary for like the gooning culture that's happening.

I was about to say, I was about to make a joke and say, uh, me scrolling through Twitter. Yeah, there you go.

Surely humanity cannot give themselves away to blah, blah, blah. But it does kind of like the that's what I was kind of getting at earlier when it's like, um,

they, they have no reason to leave because they can eat and get their pleasures there, so they're just gonna stay there forever. No need for anything more than immediate satisfaction, yeah, um,

like an animal, which yeah, I do think is like I think whoever's writing this is certainly digging a bit at like um gooner culture.

I hate, I know I've said it before, but I hate that the word goon

got used for that because now I'm just stuck with it forever.

Because it's far too late to change anything. I think you knew what you were doing.

No, no, no. When I started the name, I had no clue of any of that.
And it was like two years into the channel that that started up. And I was like, this won't catch on.
And guess what?

Boy, did it catch? Boy, did it catch.

Completely inconvenient for me all the time. Today is the second day of the fourth month of the 663rd year.

I found a woman standing as if waiting for me under a dog tree, her mouth dyed red with the blood from a dog fetus. At one time, I would have been puzzled to see a woman standing alone and unafraid.

But I haven't come upon a tribe in years and incredibly rarely does one come across a man who is not mesmerized with a dog mound.

I suppose this must have been the biggest surprise to her to have found a man who has not yet become a slave to Mother Dog.

In any case, it's important not to take chances.

Well,

how do you want to approach this one hunter?

What's the game?

Getting some advice for our...

Okay.

Getting some advice from our defensive coordinator up in the middle.

Like I said, the uncensored thing will be on Patreon, but this will be bleeped. So to keep the...
It's a trick. Like I said, bumpy road.
Bumpy road. I mean,

it's awful. It's very messed up, very intense.
So it's important not to take chances. So I grabbed her,

and screwed.

Then I took the dog tree with a length of dog flesh rope so that she couldn't run. Yeah, like, any, any sense of

humanity this person has because they're literate and are able to type is done away by the fact that they're 600 years into this and still think like a caveman, like one of the tribe members who sees a woman as a commodity.

Yeah, very messed up. A very, very brutalist depiction.
It's not to compare the story to peak,

but it's in some ways reminiscent of Cormick McCarthy's The Road, right?

Where like all the men who the main character comes across in that story have women chained up and tied up because it's like these are the only valuable thing left in the world um because they're the only thing they can carry on generations

and there's like

the like when the main character in the road comes across a group of them all the women are pregnant and stuff like that it's it's a very it's a way of showing that there's no coming back that this world's as good as gone right maybe it shouldn't come back at this point yeah today is the seventh day of the eighth month of the 663rd year my woman is pregnant I have watched over her, protected her from the wild mongrels that still roam the dogscape.

When the swarms of ticks came, I covered her in a hide. I wonder if we are the only ones left on this planet who are still human.
Today is the fifth day of the first month of the 664th year.

My child was born today.

My woman squeezed my hand, breathing hard, pushing.

After some time, the child came. A healthy, normal female infant.
I saw that all my struggles hadn't been in vain, that our race did have a future, and I realized that I was crying.

I held the child briefly, and then set it down to reach for my blade to cut the umbilical cord. No sooner had I set the girl down than a furry tendril shot out from the dog tree.

With a whack, it wrapped quick around the umbilical cord, gripped it tight. As the dog tree sunk into the ground before me, I hacked at the vine, but it could not be cut.

Next, I went for the umbilical cord, tearing with all my strength to save my girl, but the vine had melded with it and converted it into the same strong substance.

And so I could only watch in horror as the dog tree disappeared into Mother Dog,

dragging my woman and daughter with it. I dug after them, ripped the dog flesh open enough to watch as the mutated dogs of the upper layers tore at the child's face.

There's no hope for the human race. The dogscape will not tolerate disloyalty any longer.
And so I commit myself to this dog mount to become truly one with Mother Dog. No!

What a damn fool I was forever thinking I could beat this world.

Dude, it is messed up. God damn it!

This whole story is messed up. Gosh.

Oh,

man.

My boy had to give into the dog usie at the end. It's so,

sad. Well, he came to the conclusion there when, as soon as a child was born, the dogscape took it.
Yeah, there's no hope.

He's just, there's nothing.

Like,

almost like a clarity he got that, yeah, these guys that are just getting pleasure until they die, that's probably the best move at this point. Years before he saw another human being.

There never is hope. Years since he saw a tribe or another human being, and that's when he saw the woman and stuff like that.
I mean, like,

he must, I I mean, it would just be a thing of like, what the what point is there? Fuck it.

Yeah.

Also, see your child's face ripped apart like that. My god.

Yeah.

And like the woman and her get dragged down beneath the dogs and like they get ripped apart by everything and become a part of the flesh.

And you know, the flesh is going to be reused to grow the dog escape. So all you've done is just help the dog escape.

Man.

And the mounds are so brutal. They're so gross.
And it's,

I mean, that entry was rough, but haha, rough.

That entry was rough, but it certainly got its point across, you know?

Yeah. How rough, how awful it was.
Horrifying, horrifying world. Yeah.

So

are you okay? Yeah.

I just, the rough thing just said,

I feel like I've been hit by a car from the last couple seconds of you just talking.

You're welcome.

So I'll say immediately, looking at this next entry, I already don't like it.

The direction it's going from the first couple sentences, not a fan. Log 11, Galactic Calendar, Year 100, Day 1.
We have arrived at the closest star system from our previous home.

Our world was ravaged by war and we continued through space as nomads. We have searched for a hospitable world and find this one to be our liking.

We had received signals from this planet that date back at least 700 of its rotations around their star. If they are anything like us, the generations surely have changed here.

As we approached, I am puzzled, for the planet appears much different than our records indicate. The planet is a brown color, not blue, and it appears to be alive in its own right.

We will send a team down and investigate. Our ship reached orbit around the planet's singular moon.
There we gave the crew a final review of the information we knew about the people of this world.

Our main source of communication we have received was in the form of signals they called televisions.

Our understanding of the language will no doubt appear primitive to the dwellers below, though personally, I feel that something's odd. We had lost all communication from this world recently.

Captain assumes it was because of their switching to a higher technology.

They always talked about their newest technology, which looked more and more like a race that could enter that of other space-faring peoples.

i have to go down with the rest of the team by the next day on the planet though i watch the now brown world and feel that something is wrong terribly wrong

could it be the giant fur and dog faces i don't either i like don't don't give me a fucking alien entry dude It's like boring.

The whole time we've had these people like in the stone, we just got a very brutal one of like, yeah, there's no hope. Might as well go to the mounds.

And it's like an alien shows up. And also, I hate not just this, but anytime someone writes aliens or extraterrestrial stories, and they're like, they have these receptors that depict images.

They call them televisions. It's like, shut up.

If an alien race had technology to travel across space, they'd be like, they got TVs. It's not that complicated.
They would have figured out what a cathode ray tube is by now.

Or all the stuff where it's like, oh,

these humans, their language seems intelligent. They communicate.
It's like, what are we doing? Yeah. It's like, do you think that an alien, do you think they're stupid? It took me out of it.

Yeah, it took, it immediately took me out of it. And also, there's other space creatures that like, why do they need to be brought in?

If I was on the original thread seeing this get put, I would be like, we're not including that guy. Yeah.
If you're a judge.

Not that one. Yeah.
Vlog 12. I don't know how many days it's been since I saw the last human.
It's hard for the remaining survivors of the dogscape.

Women have all gone and only a handful of men remain. But as I I said, it's been days since I saw the last one.

I wandered the furry fields looking for a teat patch when I stumbled across something both very horrifying yet wonderful at the same time.

I looked at what appeared to be a patch, both male and female reproductive dog organs.

Uh-oh. All right, editor, get that bleeper out again.

I stared, fascinated, as they endlessly paired with each other. I knew I should have looked away, but I just couldn't.
After a while of watching them breed endlessly, they seemed to stop.

It appeared that they finally sensed me. I almost felt bad for interrupting, so I started to walk.

Sorry, I don't want to bother you guys. I almost felt bad for interrupting, so I started to walk away.
But I felt something grab a hold of my leg.

I looked down to see a mutated dogpaw holding tightly to my pant leg. I tried to pull my leg from its grasp, but it held on.
Then, to my horror, it started.

Okay.

Okay.

I feel like

I feel like after

one, we don't need.

Yeah, I just have a feeling that after that last guy a couple ago introduced like the reproductive organs,

like the red, the rest of the thread couldn't let that go. We could go there?

I feel like by doing that, he opened Pandora's box. And I have a feeling that every entry afterwards will somehow bring that back into it.
I really hope not.

Because, like, because there was like

sexual stuff mentioned way earlier when it's like he takes five wives for his own pleasure, but it wasn't dwelt on. But after that, guy was like, women are a commodity.
Here's the stuff in the ground.

I feel like everyone else is like, oh,

we can be, we can do that.

Which I also have to mention,

it's convenient that on a story group that was posted online anonymously, a bunch of guys were like, yes.

And women are the commodity that gets traded around. Like, okay, dude.

At least the first, at least with the part 10, it felt like there's a cohesiveness to like the despair of the world and stuff like that. But I'm like, this one.
All right, anyway.

I tried to pull my leg from its grasp, but it held on. Then to my horror, it started pulling me to the middle of the organ patch.
I frantically began to fight to get loose, for I knew what it wanted.

More dog paws sprouted up and began pulling me. I knew I didn't stand a chance.
I knew that I would be joined with dog mother in the end, so I silently accepted my fate. At least I would die happy.

So what?

What made me start laughing so hard when he's like, I knew what it wanted is like pulling me in.

Just imagine it going like, no, like his pants are around his ankles.

No, please stop.

Cut that too. Bleep that.
Bleep that one too.

Oh.

But yeah,

I just have a feeling that after that got introduced, people probably didn't let it go.

Anyway, look, people are going to be mad at this one. I hope you're ready.

But it's brutal. It's like a dystopia.
It goes to show, obviously the world's evil. Obviously, all these things are bad, right?

But it just

points it out in creative ways how terrible it is, most of the time. Log 13.

While archaic, tribal worship of the dog mother and all its visible and fleshy glory is the most common form of religion in the barbaric dogscape.

There does exist another mythology, one practiced only in distant, isolated pockets and by a few of the oldest survivors.

The exact details change from tribe to tribe, year to year, but the basics never change. It's the legend of the beginning of the dogscape, the genesis of the world we know.

It tells of a time when humans were plentiful, walked upon ground that wasn't alive. There is a god, or a demon perhaps.

A dog that lived amongst the humans was even accepted and provided for by a human family, but it was no ordinary dog.

This beast lived for over 50 years, while canines at the time rarely lasted more than a decade.

It was greatly powerful, more in control of its owner family than they were of it.

They say it went out at night and hunted human prey, bringing back large collections of bones as trophies to its home, but the humans tried to ignore it, convinced themselves that it wasn't a problem.

Soon, though, As the origin dog reached a century of age, it became increasingly powerful and unlike others. There were more strange disappearances and even attacks during the day.

Vehicles were found with deep bite marks through metal and homes were burrowed into from below. The government of the time, many times more powerful than any chieftain of day, captured the hellhound.

They performed experiments, tried to understand where it channeled its energy from.

Progress was good. It looked as though even the secret to immortality could be gained from this dog, but accidents occur.

The betrayer, as they call her, who worked at the government facility, felt sympathy for the god dog. Whoa, whoa, there you go.
Hunter, look, god dog. He showed up.

No, you said dog god. Godog.

God. Or did I say? Oh, that's right.
That's right. Yeah, I think.
No, you said Godog. I think.
I think that's what you said. The god.
Godog.

Either way, there's your bear track. God, yeah, yeah.
The betrayer, because as we know, this super hundred-year-old dog would be called god dog.

Felt sympathy for Godog.

She She released him and concurrently, the all-consuming hell that is the Dogscape. The enraged beast no longer held any sympathy for humanity.

As it thrashed recklessly through the lab, mutated samples adhered to its flesh, growing like a cancer.

Soon, what would become Dogscape was spreading like wildfire, its maw gnashing at everything that moved, its hide spreading over soil, stone, and sea. What is the name of this horrible demon? It vary.

What is the name of this horrible demon? It varies, but they all come from a similar

etymological origin, I believe. I've taken down names from all over the world.
Ahmed, Mare, Aduke.

And yet, the dog mother is mostly certainly feminine. Well, it is said that the betrayer was in fact the first human assimilated in the dogscape.

Okay.

so the entire world became the dogscape because there was a really old dog in a lab that named marmaduke that a woman let go and it turned the world into dog flesh

i got

so that is that is

in a close running with the space one for my least favorite entry because it introduces something completely unneeded yeah because i mean what why why explain any of this

like

yeah the dog scape's fun fun when it's like a giant world of dog flesh that you have to like get milk from.

That's cool. The more that I have to say about how it works, the less that I want to enjoy it or whatever.
The less cool it is. Yeah.
Yeah. Yeah, it ruins it.

And there's also no satisfying way to do it. There's no story you could tell that I'm like, oh, that makes sense to why there's giant dogs everywhere.
Yeah.

Yeah. Oh, that.
See,

I was really held up thinking, like, how did the dogs get that big? But now that you told me that there was a lab

that had a bunch of growths, and

a woman let Marmaduke go and then Marmaduke became he was really old and he was also a demon.

But then when he got let go, the demon knocked over these like samples a lab had that would turn the world into flesh. Did that make sense? Now that you say that God dog.
God dog.

You literally said God dog and Marmaduke.

God dog.

Now the thing is, where this was like a collaborative thing on 4chan, this person was definitely trolling, which makes me hate it less than the alien one, which I feel like that guy with a hmm.

What is this signal? A television?

You think this person was trolling this post 13? Yeah, it's named Marmaduke.

Like, of course, he was. There's no way he was taking it seriously.

Yeah, Armod Miram, a Duke. Yeah, Marmaduke.
Yeah.

Yeah, yeah. He was like, what's the dog that's

it? Where do you think people are? He said dog god.

He said dog god. He ducked at the tree line of the street.

He did say god dog. He said god dog.
Also, you think on 4chan, people were like, oh, that's cute. And the same story with the mounds? I don't think...

Have you strolled through that west? That's pretty true as well. At any point.

I don't think they've ever thought that about anything. Log 14.
It's cold here. Jets of moist breaths dot the landscape amid undulating hills.

There are no proper dog trees, only short piles of huddling dog limbs. Teats are few and far between, and when I find one, I must work to coax the milk into a skin bladder.

I move across the hills, my feet numb through the shoes I have fashioned.

I move in the direction that seems easiest, a subtle and mangy slope that I only just noticed was guiding my path in a general downhill fashion.

Where there is fur, it is thick and rancid with matted oil. I don't know why the mother does what it does, but all of her fruits have their uses.

I hack at a fur clump, separating it from the flesh below. There's only a little blood from a gray skin tag.
I fold and shape the waxy fur onto the insinulating hairy coverings on my body.

I fold and shape the waxy fur onto the insulating hairy coverings on my body. The dog flesh rumbles beneath me in a more than disconcerting way.

It has been doing that for the past several weeks, more so the further I have traveled. It's getting colder.
I can hear only the winds now, tearing across the mother.

The howls, warbling and mournful, have stopped. The sharp barks and yips no longer form a background cacophony.
I huddle into my coverings and shoulder ahead. I have no path to follow, but forward.

The ground feels harder here. The gentle give of the dogland has ceased, giving way to a dull, sound-absorbing thud of matted fur.

I slipped yesterday on what seemed to be a lake of solid piss. It was not reabsorbing into the mother.
My own shivering seems to syncopate with the occasional rumbles of the mother.

Her Her flesh no longer seems like a living being, but I know that deep within her, the blood flows.

It's so cold here. I continue forward every day.
The ground slopes more and I struggle to sleep in a forgiving skin fold.

There's no purpose but to move forward now, one foot in front of the other. It's been dark for as long as I can remember.
How long will this night last? The air is dry.

The land is mostly featureless and hard as I walk. The wind blows clumps of brittle hair across my face and they hurt.
A soft pop, a subtle blue flash, and they blow past me.

My hands are deep within my coverings. They are numb.
If I expose them to ward off the shocks that the cold will take them from me.

I've already lost three toes. I can no longer feel that foot.
I no longer bother to light fires in the deep crooks where I sleep.

The last I saw of that foot, it was black and swollen. I felt like it was burning.
My travel is slow.

I've heard soft, subtle tapping sounds, but when I investigate, I find only dog claws moving against the ground. The rumbles have continued, and with them now come subtle rendering souls.

The rumbles have continued, and with them now come subtle rending sounds, like a mouth chewing on a bone. When the sounds intensify, I move faster.
I don't know what causes them.

I do not think it is mother. I have not found any teats in a long time.
I am thirsty, and my skin bladder is almost empty. I would kill my own parents for a fresh puppy fetus.

I passed a small pile of humans, almost buried in billowing, dried fur. They were dead and desiccated.
They looked like they were strong when they lived.

I keep moving. There's only the road ahead of me.
I do not know what it leads to. The ground shifted beneath my feet, and I pissed in fear.

Not a mouth, but a great hard chasm of flesh and bone had torn open beneath me. A stinking, humid burst of air bellowed out, then hung in the cold cloud around me.

On my ass, I peered into the gloomy hole that had nearly swallowed me, but it was now still.

I sat and contemplated it, breathing heavily. I thought of my empty skin bladders.
Slowly, I could hear sounds several dozen feet below me start to play and echo in the cleft.

A soft slapping and a gurgle.

I don't know how, but I knew that this was my chance for sustenance.

I slid into the meaty maw. I climbed down a shorn slap of giant ribs, still red and moist.
Finally landed on the steaming dark floor of the hole. It writhed beneath my feet.

I felt around, not knowing what I was looking for, when my hands fell upon a thumping tube set into the wall. An artery.

I grabbed it, pulling at connective flesh and then bit at it. The blood shot out in spurts and I drank my fill.
I was covered in viscera. I struggled to fill my skin bladders.

The clefts shuddered around me, and I knew I must leave it immediately. The walls were starting to hang tendrils of meat, feelers, to heal this damaged canyon.

I exhausted myself climbing out and nearly fell back in as I crested the edge of the crack out into the cold night. The dog flesh slowly mended behind me as I panted on the hard ground.

Before I left it, I considered it and cataloged it. Stretch mark.

The mother was still growing. Oh, that's so cool.
That giant chasm that he crawled into and drank blood out of was just mom growing a little bit. The dog stretched it a bit bigger.
That's awesome.

Yeah. I am so weak and it is so cold.
My filled bladders of blood are gone, and the gray dogscape stretches before me. I must make it to my goal, but I do not know what my goal is.

I have walked for what seems like months in the darkness. I climb down a huge mass of frigid dog flesh.

It is like a great heap of small dogs, a pile of dog heads and legs, a mound of tails and torsos. It is cold and lifeless.
A slow, low creaking can be heard deep within it.

I grip an ear and lower myself to the bottom of the dog wall. My foot lands on something else.
I gasp, then get caught in a fit of coughing.

I don't know what I am standing on, but it is not the mother. I feel queasy, nauseous.
What could possibly be not the mother?

It's frigid and hard, but I scrape at it and bits of dangery coldness come up off it.

I hold them close to my face and my breath turns the stuff to water. I try to eat a handful of it, but it is so cold that it robs me of almost all of my remaining energy.

The moisture trickles down my throat. It's good.
I look behind me at the dog wall, with its exposed, frozen bones and happy-looking faces, and ahead of me at the featureless dark.

I'm too far gone to turn back now. I continue walking for hours and sleep, then walk more.

My footsteps are leaden. So wait, what was he drinking there? I can't tell.
I can't tell if it's something.

I mean, he said it was, it tasted good. I'm not sure what it was.
Oh, it's frigid. I scrape.
I think he's talking about ice, the ice on the bones.

I scraped it in mid-State of danger. Coldness come up.
I hold them close to my face and my breath turns the stuff to water. I try to eat a handful of it.
So cold, robs me of remaining energy.

Moisture trickles down my throat. Yeah.
So he's talking about.

I don't know. I walked.
I climbed down a huge mass of frigid dog flesh. It looks like a great heat.
Yeah, who knows? Finally, ahead of me, I see light. I make my way towards it.

Slowly over the course of several hours. It's a beacon to me now.
Bright, glowing, steady fire. As I approach, I see that the guiding light stands on a pole before a series of low, dark structures.

They are like solid walls of bone, but not.

They are not dog flesh. It's billowing hair and cold, dandery water pile against the sides.
I know that this is what what I was destined for.

At one end, near the light, is a dark panel set into the wall. On it are markings placed there by some person's hand, but I do not know what they say.
AIS-1 and entrance.

I shoulder against the panel, but it barely shudders. I try again and again.

I am renewed with purpose by the discovery of this place, but I am weak from my travel. I lean my back to the panel and slide down it, exhausted.

My back catches catches against a low bar set into the panel, pushes it down, and then clicks.

The panel gives way and I fall into the darkness within. See, there, okay, there it makes more sense where it's like, I don't know what this structure is.
It looks like a bone, but it's not a bone.

And there's a low bar that clicks and I fall in. Because this guy's never seen concrete or a door or a door handle because he's been born to the dogscape.

That makes so much more sense than aliens being like, what is this television? Yeah.

You know, I'm in a small, dark, dry cave it's alien to me the wind blows debris and fur into the room with me i look around strange dark masses seem to leer at me more of the unusual markings everywhere procedure list and keep closed and warning and wear radio at all times a bright red cylinder with yellow stripes is inside a small box I reach for it, but my hands scramble against a clear covering across the entrance to the box.

I look at my hands now. They They are purple, and I cannot feel them anymore.
Another panel is on the opposite wall, like the one I had opened. I move towards it feebly.
I am so cold.

I pull on the handle set into the panel, but it does not move. A small red light flashes above it.
I pull harder, but it does not move.

I pull again, jumping, but lose my balance and lurge to the ground. I smack my head with a dull thud.

The cold is blowing in fiercely from the opening behind me. I scrape against the hard panel, but it will not move.
More markings adorn it. Close outer door first.

I do not understand them. I sit against the panel.
My vision is blurry. A trickle of my own blood seeps across my eye.
I go to sleep there, leaning against the dark doorway.

I sleep and do not wake up. Okay,

that's actually my favorite entry from the whole thing.

Because it's a guy so far removed that human inventions mean nothing to him. He has no concept of glass or a fire extinguisher like this lever.
And he has found salvation.

He has found a bunker he can go into, shut the door, have, but I just imagine what he's describing at the ends like the power lever. And he can have electricity.
Maybe there's food there.

There's radio, stuff like that. He could live, but he has to first shut the door.
But he doesn't understand what a door is and he can't read what he's seeing. And he doesn't know how it works.

So he dies there in an open room that could have been a salvation because he's too far removed from what humanity was to understand how it operates.

Much the same with a lot of the stories we've gotten throughout of the tribes and the way they treat women and stuff like that.

Humanity is so far removed from what humanity used to be that there's no way that they could save themselves. They're not humans anymore.
They're some other thing.

That even if they had all the tools to make themselves better, it would mean nothing to them more. They've lost the plot.

It's like a cool symbol for all the other interesting ideas brought forward in the story. So that ending

ties up so it puts a bow on, again, it's a collaborative writing project, so it's not like there was one cohesive thesis, but the idea of in a world like this, humanity would go to the dogs, so to speak, which pun intended.

They would lose themselves to such a degree that there would be no hope of coming back, just like a man who can save himself by shutting the door, but he doesn't know what a door is. Yeah.

I think that's sick. That was my favorite one by far.
So after that, there's a final epilogue.

The radio broadcasts the message again, as it had had thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of times. Cold, dead, desiccated body sat huddled before the radio systems in a chair.

At its feet lay the curled, dead body of a mutt. Oh.

Oh.

Oh, but where was this?

Where were the guys who did these two parts? Just do that. Okay.

So

assuming the epilogue is like...

meant to tie into the bunker the character comes across in log 14, then once you get to really cold regions, the flesh doesn't grow or it can't grow as much, which is why our character in the last part walked to colder and colder regions so far, that he found a structure that the dog flesh had not overcome yet, this little radio bunker.

So he goes inside of it, and there's a radio broadcasting a message from an Arctic station where someone lived and died. And then at that Arctic station was just a guy.

Trying to send a distress signal and there was a dead dog at his feet, just a man and his dog before the world became the dogscape died in the cold the last remnants untouched by this disease that took over the world and that remnant is something again as mentioned in log 14 that the world's so far removed from it wouldn't even mean anything if they could get back to it right But the visual after all that all the horror of dogs and the dog flesh and stuff, a man and his and his loyal dog, like the dog was so loyal, it died next to him in the chair.

Like the classic image of like man's best friend dying in a world that is still untouched or like a final memorial after the rest of the world was destroyed by the visage of a dog. That's so cool.

That's sick. Those last two parts banged.
That was excellent. I uh I think if there wasn't just the alien one, like there was just a couple where I was like, man, we could have done without that.

But I really enjoy, it's been a while since we've had these kind of like, well, I guess, I don't know if I guess we might have had some collaborative stuff.

It kind of just reminds me also of like SCP Infinite Ikea or whatever, of like this thing that's kind of like a bit silly, but it goes on the tribal warfare stuff i kind of just like these little vignettes of like these weird tribes and this post post apocalyptic landscape and stuff and i think that it was uh it was just interesting the more that i didn't think about it being a dog the more that i was just like bought in but then it was just like yeah i don't know there's just some silly things where it's like yeah break your immersion a bit but i mean i enjoyed it what'd you think i i liked it um i understand some people may not like the intensity of some of the things around like the way the tribe tribe treats one.

But again, the intention is that humans are animals, that they're the worst possible versions of themselves. They're very evil.

And then again, at the end, it goes to say, yeah, they're so far removed from what we used to be. I can't come back to it.
So I think those parts work.

The parts I hated were the alien part and trying, like the whole Marmaduke joke. I think could be done without.
But again, that one feels like a troll.

Like dog god, again, unironically. But if you remove those two parts, I think it works so well.
And I think that last post knocks it out of the park with like, it's so shut the door first. So easy.

Make yourself warm, shut the door. But he's never seen a door.
He doesn't know how they work because

the things meant to save you don't mean anything to someone that's forgotten how to be saved, how to, you know. preserve themselves, to preserve their humanity, to preserve their existence.

And the radio is broadcasting a man and his dog, the last survivors of a world that was forgotten. Oh, that, to me, to me, that made the whole thing worth it.
Yeah. last few parts were excellent.

I feel like I think it tied in that kind of like

the distancing of the human race in a way where it made it kind of feel worth it in the end and 14 and epilogue. Yeah.

Where we had that buildup in the beginning and then it kind of really does feel like, Jesus, like this is so detached from what we know now.

And I do think like, yeah, there's some spots where it was a bit of a harder, you know, grosser subject matter, but I don't think it ever lingered long enough to be extremely gratuitous, in my opinion.

But yeah. I mean, granted, doggussy everywhere.
That's going to be going to be a bit gross everywhere. You know what I mean?

I mean, it's gross, but again, it's like, it's disgusting, the visual, but men give in to that disgust, right? Like they're like, oh yes, excellent, something to get me away from this.

And they fall for it. They commit themselves to it.
They never leave the mound, as it's said. Like.

And

they victimize any women they come across. Like they become monsters, you know? It's It's disgusting, but they are humanities become just as disgusting to keep up with it.
And that.

And that. Which is creative.
And that within itself is the epitome of dogscape. And that's a story we just read.
So thank you guys so much for listening. It was a lot of fun.

Really cool seeing these collaborative posts come together and seeing like a community make a story happen. So hopefully there's more stories like that we can read in the future.

But until next time, everybody, stay creeped. Also, give your dog a pat on the head.

Boop it, Snoot.

I like you saying

boop your snoot.

Um, I can't find the original, but there's a bunch of people making Marmaduke jokes in

the

4chan thread. Someone said journey into the center of the dog.
That's pretty good.

And um

Someone, someone in the fortunate thread.

Someone commented online and just said COVID-related.

Oh, the podcast is over. Oh, bye.

Tu mereces distrutar tus favorites for men.

Ja sel na Big Mac, McNuggets, or a sausage, egg and cheese, McCriddles, pie tuentojo como un meal, y a horra.

Oof, nava comodarto un gustaso por tam poco. Los extra value meals están de regres.

Gana por la mañana con el extra-value meal, sausage, mc, muffin with egg, hash browns, and a cafe

for sex dollars. Bara, baba, baba.
Precise y participación can varia. The preferences of the promotion cans that the

princes.