All my hard work (and putting up with fuckery and other stoopid shite) and dreams of being a Commercial Driving Dog have been shattered (in DIS state, anyway). Awoooooooooooooo!!!!!!
For refusing to allow myself to be degraded, treated as a talking cow — I’m a fricken talking BITCH, get it right, woofadoodledoo, and you can take dat to da bank or stick it (dog joke!) And POTTY MOUFS R US. And I donut NEED to be: expected to conform, obey, and otherwise compromise my own personal sovereignty, Human (or Canine, either way) and Constitutional Rights (yes, I doo count as Human when I’m in my Human Suit), and I’m s’posed to cower and snivel before the Boss, the State, and the Psychopathic Tap Dance of Those Crushing Humanity while killing it and everything else they can get their nasty, rotten, despicable hands on!
Well— fuck ‘em if they can’t take a bong.
No time to take a breath and relax. I yam in this for the LONG HAUL, which means I will see the end of this coup d’etat and I will leave Dog Protest on the graves of the Evil Ones…
I will live in my car (sorta like a doghouse!) before I give up my PERSONAL SOVEREIGNTY, you rat bastard, tiny-minded peddlers of bollocky bullshit!!!
I tell you dis in shortpaw because I donut have mush time now… One hour per librarly visit… And we MUSHT have some good Dog Pix to go along wiff dis…
I YAM ALIVE, I YAM ALIVE AND WOOFING, I GET KNOCKED DOWN BUTT EYE GET UP AGAIN, I WILL NOT BEND. Fink of me as the MODEL of saying “HELL, NO.”
If you’d like to donut, no, DONATE to my cause (into these paws), please hold thy nose and help me via paypal. My human name is Jaan Carter. Find ‘er!
Glad to hear from ya Jaan! ❤️
Say "HELL F-CKING NO."
Now that's intestinal fortitude.
Back at cha, woof.