Angus was a bassett whose belly hung lo, so low, he make Br’er Fox of “He
just don’t do noth’in but stay low” – he make Bre’r Fox look lak he done a
hundred crunches a day. Do I lie? Well maybe but here on the planet, now
zoom in to the United States of America, where lying is a bad word unless it’s
uttered or uddered by a politician who supposedly drinks too much caffeine
and can’t hold his words in.

Call it evolutionary degrade or skin dissolution or sloth, or beings who are so coarse, they’s like a redundant bunch of cattle, but I thank to mahself as I watched last week’s rodeo show where the people were bestially rood to our presdent; and I
think, “They’re toilet trained, ain’t they?”

And the only answer I gave to myself is “Angus has more manners than that
red faced anger ridden man who yelled “Liar.” If they can hold their
piss; why can’t hold their vitriol? Whatevah happened to the Good Book and
high manners and language. Cain’t we find a replacement for chronic belligerence?

I tell you. I miss Angus. I would hold Angus with my arms stretched around his big belly, hold him in tahms of crisis like in today’s world. “Bestial verbosity,” my Aunt Jenny Who Never Had a Wrinkle in Her Life and ate pork every day would say. But Angus, fell in love with a blonde lady who used to run a restoront down on the Avenue, don’t you know, and he went to live with her, cuz she had another Bassett called Blanche, and Angus sort of hand a hunkering and a hankering for Blanche.

At Blanche’s house, they don’t listen to people saying mean things. I’m glad
Angus is happy. Gotta end raht now, as I’m gonna to send an old poster to the
Senate and the Congress, and it is a medium large poster and sort of sepia faded, don’t you know. It shows politicians in diapers with bandages over their mouths, and in the background, which is really faded, is a fuzzy image of a toilet with a hand chain. The slogan is sort of like Uncle Sam needs you? This slogan tho is how to potty train politicians, one mouth at a time.

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