Let me tell you about a man I read about today. John Lewis. Congressman John Lewis. One of the very few men on the planet who has actually done something with almost every day of his life. He stood with MLK and pushed for civil rights in the American South. He stood at the far end of a bridge in Selma, Alabama and refused an order to disperse. He got beaten by the state troopers for his refusal. Actually, he got beaten because he was black, but you get the idea. Then, bearing the scars of that beating on his balding pate, he stood for public office and became a US congressman. Through all of those years of public service and service to his fellow man, no matter where they fell on the skin spectrum, Congressman John Lewis has been a stalwart supporter of us all. He has talked. And talked. And talked. And his talk has spurred an entire nation into action. Obviously, he had his off days. Not even Clark Kent could be Superman every day. Furthermore, I am certain that every now and then, he took a short holiday. Possibly in Barcelona. I don’t know. But for the most part, he has been a damned fine human being. And something for all human beings to aspire to.
Now. I also might have mentioned, in the pee stained pages of this blog a complete tit, by the name of Herr Twitler Trump. Perhaps you have a passing acquaintance with the odorous malfeasance of his day to day activities? Maligning others, belittling and berating those that dare to disagree. Inciting hatred and violence. Mocking those weaker than himself and being a thin-skinned pussy are just a few of his most objectionable actions. I should point out that only being 50 days old makes all he has done prior to my birth hearsay are far as I am concerned. I can’t read after all, so I can’t confirm any of his actions.
Anyway. He got all hangry (angry and hungry) or premenstrual or some shit on Twitter and said some very unfair things about the Congressman. The world’s media seem to be in meltdown right now trying to find the best possible position from which to watch the world end or at the least, watch Herr Twitler get his comeuppance.
Okay! Watson. I hear you say. Why is a 50-day old puppy blogging about Herr Fuckwitt Twitler and his sideshow of cerebrally ill appointed?
Well, frankly, I am glad you asked.
I would like to do it. I would like to be the one to dish out the punishment decided upon by the world’s morally indignant. I realize that simple slogans such as Lock Him Up might be considered a little 2016. But I think we have a winner. I think I have an idea you can all get behind. I think we should go with something like “Put him in a sack and drown him…in puppy piss!”. I think dear reader, that you might have put two and two together here and seen where my thought process has led.
That is right. I would like to be the esteemed puppy to provide the prodigious volumes of pee required for the first public drowning of a head of state-elect since Prince Mernuterseteni nearly vanquished his father with a papyrus fishing pole on the banks of the Nile during the very late 5th and exceptionally early 6th Dynasties of ancient Egpyt. I say very nearly, because midway through the choking, the old man coughed, the vibrations in his throat caused the papyrus to break which in turn caused Mernuterseteni to slip, falling backward into the Nile. He either drowned or was eaten by one of the several hundred large Nile Crocodiles which started swimming rapidly to the point where he vanished under the sacred waters, never to rise again.
We wouldn’t need much pee to be honest. If we had a kiddies paddling pool with a clear plastic bottom and filled it with pee. Then slide Herr Twatler’s phone under the pool. I am certain we could cause him to drown himself trying to retrieve the device. So, the first public suicide by drowning whilst being executed by drowning of a head of state-elect. Pee provided, for a small fee? By Watson Rogue DOh-Gee.
Pitchforkers et al: Is my solution (groan) a good one? Let me know and I will start drinking as much water as I can get my paws on.
Human update: They are still alive. One at the symphony and the other at the trough.