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You ever notice how certain things can just catch you off guard? Like, the other day, someone walks up to me and says, "Man, it smells like updog in here." Now, I'm thinking, "What the heck is updog?" So, I'm like, "What's updog?" And they go, "Not much, what's up with you?" I'm standing there, completely puzzled, thinking I just got hit with the most dad joke of all dad jokes. I didn't even see it coming! Now, I'm on high alert. Anytime someone mentions a smell, I'm like, "Wait, is this another updog situation?" It's like living in a perpetual dad joke twilight zone.
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I've developed this involuntary updog reflex. Someone mentions a smell, and immediately, my brain goes into overdrive, trying to figure out if I'm about to get hit with a surprise dad joke. It's like I've entered a parallel dad joke universe. I walked into a bakery the other day, and it smelled like freshly baked bread. And I'm thinking, "Please, not updog bread. Anything but updog bread." It's like I'm living in constant anticipation of the next updog attack. They say smell triggers memories, but for me, it triggers dad jokes.
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I've been thinking of starting an Updog Anonymous support group. Hi, my name is [Your Name], and I'm an updog victim. We could all sit in a circle and share our experiences. "I was at the grocery store, and someone said, 'It smells like updog in the produce section.' I haven't been able to buy carrots without thinking about it since."
It would be a safe space where we can console each other and work through the trauma of constantly falling for the updog trap. Maybe we could even have a 12-step program: "Step 1: Admitting you have an updog problem." It's time to take a stand against these dad jokes, folks!
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You know, pranks are supposed to be these elaborate schemes that leave you in stitches, right? But then there's the subtle genius of the updog prank. It's like a ninja prank – silent, deadly, and catches you when you least expect it. You're just going about your day, and suddenly, someone drops the bomb: "It smells like updog in here." You're left standing there, scratching your head, wondering how you fell for it again. It's like a silent assassin of comedy. You don't see it, you don't hear it, but BAM! You've been updogged.
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