"The Dog Story," or "How I Ended My Political Career"

If you are a member of my family, don't read this entry. I would not lead you astray; you don't want to read this shit. I promise. I don't mean this for my own good, but for yours.

For everyone else, I'm going to tell you a mystical fairytale about an imaginary boy named Sam (this name is not meant to implicate anyone).

When Sam was back in highschool, he had been going steady with this one girl for quite a while. One day, when their relationship was at its peak, when it was really budding, they were spending some coy, pleasant alone time in his girlfriend's room, and suddenly a big fucking lightbulb went off above her head. She was struck with a novel idea.

"I think it would be really neat if I put ice cream on your dick and gave you a blowjob," she said, sentimentally. Sam grudgingly agreed.

Sam's girlfriend went down to the kitchen and returned with a pint of her favorite flavor: moose tracks. It was cold, and creamy, and chock full of Reese's peanut butter chunks. She instructed Sam to lay on the floor, because she didn't want the ice cream to melt and get all over her bed. Sam obeyed, and she took his pants off, and then, on her hands and knees, she spread the cold creamy deliciousness all over his erect, trembling passivity.

She didn't dig in on the ice cream right away, however. She rose, put the ice cream and spoon on her dresser, put her hair up, and did some other things that I don't think Sam was really paying much attention to.

Also, I should mention that Sam and his girlfriend were not alone in the house. His girlfriend's parents were downstairs ("Where are the kids?" "Um, I believe they went upstairs with some ice cream."), and so was their hunting dog. For the sake of anonymity, I won't reveal the dog's name, but it was a German Wire-haired Pointer, and it looked a little something like this:


It wasn't uncommon to find this mutt crawling around on its front legs, dragging the other two behind, spreading menstrual discharge all over the carpet. She must have had a pretty good nose on her, and she must have loved moose tracks ice cream, because she sure came a-runnin' as soon as that sweet, sweet scent pricked the end of her hunting-trained nostrils. While Sam's girlfriend was standing up, fiddling with the garbage on top of her dresser and whatnot, this trained killing machine came ambling into the room and put its tongue into the cold, clammy recesses of Sam's timid genitalia. Sam looked down in horror as this beast turned his penis into a lollipop. He couldn't scream; there were parents downstairs. He couldn't get up; any agitation and the dog might bite down, ruining his life forever. So, completely vulnerable, lying on the ground with his pants around his ankles, he did the only thing he could do; he waited for the dog to finish.

His girlfriend turned around from the dresser, witnessed what was happening, and broke into hysterical laughter. She giggled, she teased Sam, and she did not offer any help. And when the dog had finished, when Sam was left there with a penis that was sticky from dog saliva and melted ice cream, she didn't even do the job she had set out for in the beginning ("I'm not putting my mouth on that thing! My dog licked it!")

So today our hearts go out to Sam, the poor boy lying alone, frightened, sticky, and blowjob-less, all because he was taken advantage of by a dog.