Where did the phrase It’s a dog eat dog world come from? I have never seen a dog eat another dog. I’ve seen a dog hump another dog or sniff its ass. I saw my neighbor’s dog try to hump some vagrant’s leg in the park, one day, but the vagrant smelled like a dog, so I say he’s fair game. True, he is homeless and youse gots to do whats you gots to do if’n yer condo is a cardboard box and you’re just tryin’ to keep warm, even in paradise where it’s rarely a three-dog night.
I had trouble mounting this photo.
In fact, it’s more appropriate to call it a “human-eat-dog world,” which naturally puts the animal rights activists’ panties in a collective twist. Britney Spears was not allowed membership in the Hollyweird Animal Rights Activists’ organization because she won’t wear any panties, which can make them difficult to twist – collectively or when alone with Paris – at those appropriately appalling moments. Though the paparazzo who took this horribly demeaning raw photo of the pop princess’ privates did get a crook in his neck, mainly due to the heft of his zoom lens. No, that is not a cheeky metaphor.
Whether it’s bald, Brazilian or Fu Manchued, everyone likes a little pussy, occasionally. I’m not sure about this cross-species copulation, but surveys say 4 out of 5 Mormons feel the missionary position is still the best. Not if you drop by my place on a Saturday morning sans invitation.
dog and cat caught in the act
While everybody’s eating pussy – and no one seems to complain about that – the Chinese have been eating dogs for centuries, since the time of Confucious, at least. The waning culinary practice of raising dogs for meat can still be found far and wide, from Korea, Indonesia, Vietnam, Taiwan, the Philippines and even Mexico.
Strangely enough, even a couple of rural Swiss cantons are cur connoisseurs, curing dog meat into jerky and sausages. If it’s good enough for Heidi, it’s good enough for the rest of the world. Actually, a local Swiss Miss told me she likes a little trouser Schnauzer with a cup of hot cocoa at bedtime. I hear she’s seeing that Stay Puft dude and that’s where she gets all those tiny marshmallows. Hmm, make a note: Switch to Ghirardelli.
Nowadays, however, if you eat dogs, then you’re considered dog meat. Telling PETA to “Eat Me!” might garner a few chuckles from the chuck roast crowd, but it won’t win you any friends or influence the people you’ve so righteously pissed off by flambéing Fifi. Due to western notions of domesticity, plus the ideal that one should not eat their alleged “best friend” – though I can’t speak for Paris & Britney – the practice of consuming dog meat is relegated more and more to ritual, festivals and traditional medicinal practices. Of course, none of these lofty reasons matter a whit to Fido and you won’t get much sympathy from the wilder creatures, either. The big jungle cats just want their penises back.
I believe I’ll start a nature conservancy non-profit called “Save the Tiger, Dick!” and see if the Vice-Prez will lend his passion for screwing to the cause.
Who you callin' a tiger dick?
“Ooh, you sexy, virile stud! Bend me over like you do America and give it to me up the Constitution.”
Yeah, I'm tappin' your phones, too.
The Freudian implications of our nations’ leaders being named Bush and Dick should not be lost on anyone. Sometimes, a cigar is just a cigar . . . something you smoke after you shtup a country. Now, I’d like to see those two guys eat a little crow, but don’t get me started. That’s a whole nuther post and the nub of my quill is gettin’ dry and sore.
I don’t care what or who you eat or screw, but if I’m involved in any way, I’d appreciate a smile, at least, during your attempt. If I see you coming towards me with either Jack Daniels 100-proof BBQ sauce and a set of tongs, or a 16-oz tube of K-Y Jelly, I’ll know you mean business and you’re fixin’ to throw one hell of a tailgate party. Pardon me, however, if I raise my tailgate and slip on out the back, now, ya hear. ‘Cause in this dog-eat-dog world, I’m a Kat – just bloggin’ my brains out – and that’s all I have to say about that.
Welcome to my jungle, baby.
The Kat
Comments on this entry are closed.