There are two things I hate: George W. Bush and dogs. Unfortunately, one of these insipid creatures actually lives in my house—but at least it's not trying to start a row with the Iranian dog next door. It's still a dog, and not just any kind of dog, either, but a dreaded, nellie-ass POODLE with the worst nellie-ass name ever: Noodles. Noodles the poodle. I am in hell.
My two lesbian friends Skippy and Rhonda love dogs (big fucking surprise). They also hate George W. So, on my 35th birthday, they gave me a gift I was unsure of how to take: a George W. squeaky-head dog toy.
Two days after looking at the plastic, vapid presidential mug, I switched off Fox News and whipped out the George W. squeaky-head dog toy (rim shot, please!). Then I looked at the stupid poodle, once again left in my care—all day long—to be completely ignored. I grabbed W.'s head and squeaked it hard. Noodles hid beneath the barbecue. I squeaked it again, smiling this time, and talking in that stupid-ass loving dog talk that dog-lovers use. Noodles crept closer. Then I threw that fucking W. head as hard as I could against the backyard wall. Noodles took off. He grabbed W. around the neck and shook him, shook him, shook him like a Polaroid. The dog chewed on that monkey-faced head and dug his teeth into the presidential eyes and ears.
That beautiful nellie dog celebrated the carnage by running wildly around the yard. I screamed, “Bite his fucking head, Noodles! Bite it harder!” The dog pranced from one end of the lawn to the other, chewing that goddamned thing to bits.
Spent, he finally came back to my side and looked lovingly into my eyes. I returned the gaze, with a soft pat on the head. I had been wrong about George W. Bush: he is a uniter after all—and nellie-ass dogs are clearly good for something.
POLITICAL PET TOYS' GEORGE W. BUSH (AND JOHN F. KERRY) SQUEAKY-HEAD DOG TOYS ARE AVAILABLE AT URBAN OUTFITTERS AT THE LAB, 2930 BRISTOL, COSTA MESA, (714) 966-1666; IRVINE SPECTRUM, 81 FORTUNE DR., IRVINE, (949) 727-0951. COST: PRICELESS.