Written by Morse

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Thursday, 3 September 2009

Bo's Blog/ Issue #2 - I want to talk a little bit bout my education. I suppose you think cuz I be a black dog, I ain't got no smarts! I have what you might call, animal cunning...it's innate, part of my breeding, and passed down from my Daddy, who some tell me was SOME big, black smart M*****F*****.

My Daddy! Now there's a story in it's own self, but that's for another time. Suffice it to say, he was a rollin' stone....always on the move, sniffin' around to sweet talk some bitch into doin' it wid him. He had no formal education for awhile, he had what we call here in the US 'street smarts', that is until he learned how to play "the ASPCA card" an get a lot of shit for free...including a fine formal education, which really made him dangerous, and finally led to his downfall.

Anyway, with Barack being the Big Black Dawg in the US, and his own self benefitting from a whole bunch of free education in some of the country's most elite schools, I knew I was goin' be on the same road to success he was...as long as I got to learn about life without payin for it.

Sure enough, I went to Puppy School in Groton, Cn., Took my Canine Good Citizenship in some Vermont prep school, and got my advanced Obedience Certificate in Cambridge, Ma. The last phase was tough, so tough Barack arranged for a dog smarter than me to take the final exam. I should add however, he really wasn't smarter...I just didn't feel like runnin, jumpin, sittin and stayin cause some flunky told me to...so I just played dumb and pretended like I had a headache...it always worked for Michelle, and it worked for me too! Learned somethin too...when you don't want to be fucked with, just say 'no!"

Me and Barack laughed about it alot, but he did all the talkin' a course, "Black Dog," he say, " you're dumber than a Kennedy...but no one will ever know, cause the records say you done graduated from Cambridge Obedience College!"

I heard old Barrack laughin with that potty mouth Rahm, tellin him how all my transcripts, and even my birth certificate had been made to disappear so no one could say I got a free education, or wasn't no natural born American Dog!
My pedigree done said I be born in the USA and graduated from Cambridge!

Not that I wanted to go to Westminster or anything...watchin it on TV was as close as I wanted to get to that place. Them dogs are all on Valium...they don't talk about it much in the business, but I can tell...no natural dog is goin just stand there when some 85 year old white prune bitch cups my nuts and then puts her fingers in my mouth to check my teeth....Shit, that Bitch be digitally challenged if she ever did that to me! Guess she never heard nothin bout AIDS. Balls to mouth...never heard such a thing!

Did I tell you about my trip to Hawaii? Hot Dog...what a junket! Air Force I, two sexy white dog walking interns (they were actually there for other classified reasons, but they did walk me when they finally got out of bed),
white sands, cool breezes, and some real cute native bitches to run around on the beach and chase Frisbees. Max was there too, and he and I spent every night in the Beach Cabana looking at the waves and countin the stars. I'm some lucky Dawg!

I almost didn't get to go to Martha's Vineyard, cause I had been a BAD DOG, which really wasn't my fault. In fact, you would done the same thing if you were in my paws.

I was wandering around one afternoon, bored out of my knappy fur, and decided to head to the White House Bowling alley, because I heard they had
"duck pins" and not the real big uns. (it was a lie). Anyway, the bar in the alley had all kinds of sports posters on the wall, including the worst one they ever could have hung up in front of a dawg like me. Old #7....yup, that dog killin',
electrocutin freak, Michael Vick.

Man, I went Dog Shit....don't know what came over me, but I was snarlin, snapin, and hurlin myself against that poster till it done came down on the floor, right on that $1500 a yard decorator carpet. After I tore his crotch out, I preceded to piss all over him. It was a good one too, cause no one bothered to let me out after lunch.

Boy, I sure felt better after a good rant like that, like my internet friend Frankie J, one of my K-9 friends I met at school where he took 'top dog' honors in the "Run-Jump-Lunge-Attack-Kill' course. Sometimes I think that ole dog thinks he's Chesty Puller....

Anyway, they done caught me out, cause I was the only dog in the house. I got scolded and put to bed with no dinner, and they threatened to not take me to Martha's Vineyard for the family vacation. Vacation! Fuck me, every day's a vacation for these folks...don't know nothin' about real work. I know, I get to watch Fox News at night with Max, when no one else is around.

Well, thanks to Max, when I finally slunk out my room...pussy smell was really gettin to me...he had heard about the episode and had a good bowl of some of my favorite chow waiting for me. Made me feel good. He said he wouldn't piss on Michael Vick if he was on fire, but he sure would have pissed on him with me if he had been there with me in the afternoon.

With the kids cryin and all, Barack relented, and I was in the convoy headed to Martha's Vineyard. I had heard it was some kind of Democratic Shrine or something, and had a lot of tradition where famous liberal politicians hung out, went sailing on boats drank Irish whiskey and got laid a lot so they could stand going back to their politically correct wives.

The Vineyard was great! Fresh sea air with a slightly fishy odour to it...not unlike my room at the White House. I thought these liberals have an awful lot of time for fuckin around when they're claimin to be saving the world.

Little did I know that the Vineyard was a haven for feral cats. There must have been thousands of them livin off the land and the free handouts from the residents, all of whom had pinched faces, wore their collars up on their Polo sports shirts, and draped sweaters around their shoulders, even though it must have been 82 dgrees in the shade. They all had good teeth. And Big Teeth. And they showed them off. A lot! I guess it's a genetic thing here on the island...big smiles, big teeth, and act like you have a big dick. And they sniffed around each other's asses a lot too...and you thought dogs were crude?

Sometimes I surprise myself with my powers of observation. For a dawg, anyway.

I guess everybody got laid and had a good time, even though they had to take time off to go to yet another cocktail party on the mainland. Everybody dressed in black and looked serious, but I could tell, they just couldn't wait to go cuz I heard them talkin about the TV cameras and saying "We've Got To Win This One for Teddy" amongst a lot of back slappin, and nose blowing.
I didn't get to go a course, but Max and I saw some of it on TV before we got bored and watched the Sox smash the shit out of the Devil Rays.

Before I knew it, vacation was up, and we had to pack to go 'home'.

I had swum in the surf, imitated my human family and chased a lot of Pussy (just for fun a course), and was really ready to go home and get back into my routine as the 'token' White House pet.

I had a sense puberty was coming on, and on one of those dark lonely nights when just Max and I sat and silentlly communicated he told me, "Bo, one of these nights you and me goin' slip out of here and go get us some!" I love Max. And I know he loves me. When you've got a really good buddy in life what else do you need. Well, of course, from what I've heard, there's THAT....but I'll just have to wait and see if Max makes good on his promise.

Off to the Dog Watch,

Big Dawg, Gone



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