Back in the 1960s, I used to read a comic strip in the Vancouver Columbian called “Odd Bodkins,” written and drawn by a guy named Dan O'Neill. He was a stoner, a biker, and an independent thinker; most papers dropped his strip when they figured out what he was talking about, which was mostly dropping acid and fighting the establishment. In one of his strips, someone announced that African baboons were beginning to eat meat and use tools. “THAT'S IT!” one of the characters annouces. “GOD IS ANGRY AT US AND THE REPLACEMENTS ARE ON THE WAY!”
So I read the other day that Martha Stewart's dog punched her in the nose and sent her to the hospital.
Also, I just read an article in the Times about how dog behavior on television has gotten pretty atrocious (see especially the horrible woman on “It's Me Or The Dog” who lets her lapdog stick his tongue up her nose).
Also, there was a recent Times article about a dog named Chaser who knows over a thousand words and understands simple sentences. (This is more than most of my coworkers can do.)
I am beginning to feel that we are huddled around the campfire, and the dogs are peering at us out of the darkness with their glowing wolfish eyes, getting ready to pounce.
The replacements are on the way.
Partner's fine with this. He will tell you any day that he wishes he were a dog himself. Short of this, he wants to lie on the ground and roll around with all the dogs in the neighborhood. I think the dogs brainwashed him a long time ago. I already told you about his dog Willy, who was not prepared to be my best friend. Willy was obviously in on the plan.
But I'm not really worried about the dogs. They're stoopid. You can always buy them off with a Beggin' Strip or a Jumbone or something of the sort. They're all about food, and they're easily distracted.
Yeah. Go ahead, Yukon King. Try to replace me. You've got a big surprise coming.
I'm no pushover like Martha Stewart.
No comments:
Post a Comment