Lock Up the Bitch
Night Two of the Niantic Party Convention
[On the second night of the convention, Gutbloom, wearing a different dog mask than the night before, spoke from the stage on the front lawn of the Mill. The rubber mask was the mask of a spitz. By the time he took to the platform, a crowd of about 40 people had gathered. A man named Joe was grilling sausages, tofu dogs, and steamers. He was handing them out for free. Gutbloom’s remarks were as follow. — The Editors]
Thank you, Thank you. [nobody had clapped — Eds.] It’s really great to be here, but I’m not going to lie to you. Tonight kind of sucks. It just won’t be as interesting as last night. There has to be some dreck between the first and third nights of the convention, and you’re standing in it. We have the stage set up, so why not, huh?
If you didn’t hear yesterday’s speech, you should go back and read the transcript now. If you read it before Lon Shapiro and Lisa Renee pointed out all of the careless mistakes, you read it too soon. You should be like a big penguin. You know what big penguins do, right? They wait for little penguins to jump off of the ice flow so they can watch to see if there are killer whales in the water. It pays to wait. You want to read any post AFTER Lon and Lisa. It will be cleaner then. You’ll enjoy it more. They suffer on your behalf. It takes a special kind of person to read a post that mocks copy editors and then have the heart to point out the mistakes of the fuckup on the masthead, but that’s what they do. They are the true Bodhisattvas of blogging. They are like the freeware programmers of old.
I think I drank too much scotch. I’m turning maudlin. I’m not myself. Oh, right. I’m not myself! I am Otto, Jr., son of Otto, Gutbloom’s Dog. I’m here to tell you how Gutbloom, human though he is, understands the world of dogs.
Let me begin by saying that although I am the son of an incredibly pampered “house dog” that sleeps on one of those $200 LLBean dog beds, my father made sure that I understood, and respected, working dogs. When I was a puppy, my father used to take me down to the coal mines where there were Rottweilers pulling carts, Airedale terriers going INTO THE MINES, and Welsh Corgis droving cattle along country roads. We would go and watch them and my father would say, “Look at those dogs work! That’s real work, son. You gotta respect that work.” Then, if they didn’t immediately go submissive when he walked among them during their breaks and they sniffed his ass, he would attack them instantly like the rabid motherfucker he was. He would rip them to shreds, and, usually, because of the puncture wounds and other injuries, they would have to be put down.
Now, I could talk all day about what a great dad my father, Otto, was, or what a great master Gutbloom is, but I’m here to talk about something much more important. I’m here to talk about the hound from Hell that is running against him, that three headed bitch who is his main opponent.
[This takes some explanation. There is another political party in Mushamaguntic, The Soft European Cheese Party, that we, the editors, are quite sure is a sham organization controlled by Gutbloom for the purpose of splitting the vote on the left. It was our understanding that the candidate was a goat. This speech would seem to indicate that the other candidate is a female dog from Labrador].
The bitch, Delilah of Labrador is her name, is a chocolate lab from Hell. She is a scheming, treat-grubbing, LIAR. She will do anything to get treats. Make her eyes wide, lower her ears, put her tail between her legs to make it look like she has a penis, roll over on her back…. she’ll do ANYTHING.
She doesn’t understand that for dogs to work, someone has to whistle! You have a bunch of border collies standing around and what are they… other than a bunch of neurotic brainiacs obsessing over what to herd? They are practically wild animals, but if their master puts them to work then they have jobs! She doesn’t understand that. Her “animal cruelty” regulations have KILLED JOBS. Just yesterday I was down at the Mushamaguntic Convention center talking to the circus elephants put out of work by the PROGRESSIVE DO-GOODERS that want to destroy OUR WAY OF CIRCUS LIFE. One of them, an old bull named George, said, “I’ve stood on giant balls my whole life. It was what I was good at. Now they’ve taken my balls away.”
She wants to kill jobs, and she hates the working dogs that go into coal mines. Do you see any dogs bred for fracking or natural gas around here? Are there any North Dakota or Alberta Tar Sands breeds that you know of? No, the future of dogs is COAL.
Let’s get to the indictment. I see the crowd is thinning out. We’ll do it like a funk go-go concert. If the DJ would please queue up some George Clinton, I’ll run the Deliah bitch down in quick order.
When I say anything, you say “Put the bitch in the pound!” OK?
She peed on the Rug.
[One person in the crowd yelled, “Put the bitch in the pound.” We are pretty sure it was a paid operative. -Eds]
She drank water from the toilet.
[see above]
She sniffed the ass of that Russian Borzoi.
[see above]
She rolled over for a Chinese Shih-Tzu
[see above]
She ate the cat’s food.
[see above]
Then got worms.
[see above]
She’s a liar.
[see above]
She’s a liar.
[see above]
She’s a liar
[see above]
Thank you. May the Flying Spaghetti Monster bless you, May the Flying Spaghetti Monster bless Medium, and may the Flying Spaghetti Monster bless our party.
zimzim urallala zimzim urallala zimzim zanzibar zimzalla zam
[The candidate, still wearing the dog mask, stumbled off the stage and, finding a sausage that had fallen on the ground, picked it up and ate it.]
