You know, those of you have taken the time to read my previous blogs (see the archive list to the right, and thank you) might be a little confused about some of things that I, the Pope of the All John All The Time World Church, said in those missives, as well as just what it is I do as Pope John The Tall of the AJATTWC.
First off, a little clarification is probably needed about a) whether I live in Southern California or on a remote island in the Sargasso Sea, as I mentioned in my profile and b) whether and how much I beat my dog, Harley, as I also mentioned in my profile. (About the only thing I didn't mention in my profile was my hat size, which I don't know, and the size of my johnson, which, depressingly, I do.)
As to my where I live; I spend most of my time in the Southland, where I'm needed in my role as Pope of the AJATTWC and as a fundraiser for the church's favorite charity, the Home For The Chronically Bewildered. Then during the off-season winter months, Harley and I move back to our island paradise in the Sargasso. (Is that a great word, or what? Almost as good as "gerbil".) Our island is named Snacilbuper (pronounced SNACK-IL-BUPER), which is Republicans backwards; Harley and I are not Republicans, at least I'm not. I used to be until I realized that George Bush would go down as one of the worst presidents this country has ever had, and that he was the best the party had to offer, which scared the hell out of me, and I became a Librarian instead. Excuse me, that's Liberian. (Shit, never mind.) No, we're not Republicans (I don't really know what Harley's political affiliation is, but I know he's too smart to be a Republican.) No, the reason we named our island Snacilbuper was that it was just too funny to pass up.
Now allow me to be serious here for a moment; in light of the Michael Vick dog abuse scandal, the subject of harming a defenseless animal isn't funny, it's sickening. Mr. Vick paid his debt to society, so he's square with the house, for my money. That doesn't make what he did right or any less reprehensible. Just that it's over and its time to move on.
But please know one thing; I was making a joke when I wrote about beating Harley. Truth is, he's a 13-year old Golden Retriever who has been my boon companion for the last seven years (he spent the first six years of his life with my daughter), and I'd cut off my hands before I would harm him in any way.
And he's a good guy. Will Rogers, the humorist from back in the Twenties and Thirties, once said that he had never met a stranger, just friends he hadn't made yet. Harley has the same point of view about people; there's no such thing as a stranger to the Harley Dog, just people who haven't had an opportunity to pet him yet. He will walk right up to almost anyone, stick his big head in your crotch and dare you not to pet him. (Weighing in at 100 pounds and standing 27" tall at the shoulders, the threat has some substance.) A better-behaved, more affectionate being has not yet passed this way. As I frequently tell him, I love him to pieces.
For the record, I never beat my ex-wife either. She was a Shamdar maiden from the O'Ryan Cluster (populated mostly by creatures of Irish descent) of the Milky Way and the Shamdars are people of odd habits. She would frequently walk up to strangers, stick her big head in their crotch and dare them not to pet her. As far as I know, she's never bitten anybody, but you know, there's always a first time.
I wonder if the Shamdars are Republicans?
Love and politics,
PJTT
P.S. I am not a Libertarian either, by the way, nor a Democrat for that matter. I don't have to be; I'm the Pope.
copyright 2011 Krissongs, Inc.
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