Comrades,

I was browsing YouTube for the latest musing of our dear Comrade Janeane Garofalo. Lenin, I hope I spelled her name right.

It seems that some wily RethugliKKKan has sneaked into Ms. Garofalo's house and trained her dogs. She is here being interviewed by Isaac Mizrahi, and I hope to Hitler I spelled his name right too, and at 21 seconds into the interview, something awful happens.


This is however an improvement. Once Ms. G was late for a session with Keith Olbermann, and then she didn't show up the next night. They found that the neighborhood cats had buried her in the back yard.

Dear Father Prog,

Of course it's none of our business what goes on "behind closed doors" in the Gawdawfolo house, but I can't bear to think that the action of this dog was a product of obvious training—quite possibly on other "targets" than just a leg.

Seems to me the dog and the neighborhood cats were just acting instinctively. A dog will "mark" an inanimate object like a fire hydrant and cats will cover poo with dirt.

I was just out with my dogs and wondering at the Super Full Moon tonight. The Moon is the closest it's been to Earth since 1993. So I was wondering if Dr. Gawdawfolo turned into something tonight and if so, what?

I understand the comrade canine companion animals tend to urinate in areas where they have urinated before. This is why experts tell us to immediately and thoroughly clean any places in the home where the animal has peed, lest the lingering scent of urine draw Fido back to repeat the practice again and again.

I offer this information without comment and advise everyone to draw their own inferences.

Opiate, I never draw inferences. It can hurt. I only accuse wildly.

I know that Dr. Gawdawfulo is a Shape Shifter. One time she was over at the Rancho--that was the time that she was to be bred by Jodin Morey to make the Prog Who Will Come but he all he could do was whine and pee himself.

It was a very full moon that night and I'd been listening to Dr. G bitch, moan, piss and whine in that voice which could put a lamprey eel off its foodmost eloquently discourse on the evils of capitalism for so long that I decided to give her a much-needed rest.

While she was lying down, I swung an ice ax right into her head.

She is a Shape Shifter. She looked just like dear Trotsky.

They don't call dogs man's best friend for nothing! Thank you kid. A complimentary box of beets and ration of vodka is on the way. And a peed on divorced wife is the perfect role for her.

Maybe the dog in question was Marshal Pupovich in disguise?

Seems that tea-bagging redneck racist dog could not stand the fact that a black man is in the white house. Shameful.

To quote Abraham Lincoln (sort of). "It is only fitting and proper that he should do that."

I've never been in the "animals seem to know" camp but this is compelling evidence.

ThePeoplesComrade wrote:I've never been in the "animals seem to know" camp but this is compelling evidence.

As those all damn hippies green loving comrades say, Mother Nature is Wise™

Our male canine Companion Animals are keen to "mark" the things that they "own." This behavior is instinctual, and wholly devoid of political correctness animosity. The objects so included in their "marking territory" include household furniture, hence the above extremely instructive video clip.

Ack! She was getting what she is of deserving. Dogs are HARAAM! No self-inspecting Mooslime would be for having pet dog - that is why they are for having of so many of the wifes.

Unkulturny, I haven't seen you before; welcome. I have been absent seeing just how well some assets owned by Rethuglicans are nailed down. I am, after all, Father Prog with Velcro fingers.

It is possible that the dog thinks that it owns Comradette Janeane, but it's also possible that the dog was frustrated. After all, I have on good authority when Janeane lies down, dogs roll on her.

Comrades,

I wonder why the dog only did half a job on the target?

Comrades, whatever the circumstances, I have to admit I have never enjoyed Comradette Gawdawfulo's work more.

The only improvement would be if Keith Olbermann were the one who gave the elephant an olive-oil enema--and died, suffocated, by the result.

Of course Olbermann's constant posture is with his head up his ass, so egestion from an impacted elephant might not be out of the ordinary to him.

When you gotta go, you simply must.

Do you think that we could make money with a new cat litter guaranteed to attract every bit of pee and pooh in the house? Garafalitter! The litter smells so bad that you won't notice the shit.

What a great collective consciousness summoning Father Prog, Garaflitter™ is sure to be hit with cats everywhere. We picture something sparkly that stinks like hell, we must warn Bruno or this could cause a stink at the Rancho. But of course Dear Leader, Nancy, and the MTE already visit regularly so he's probably used to that.

I would never dog on Comrade Janeane Garofalo, I doubt I could get that close.

Well, I have to admit, she does have her "security" forces in order. I mean, the swiftness of her Swiffer dude was amazing! And, I am absolutely positive she's making big bucks for Windex! Doesn't get any proggier than that!

Pamalinsky, I know that you are being typically progeriffically generous (especially since you have not today called for "a discussion about violence on the streets" pace the U of Chicago professor), but I'm afraid that dear Janeane is way past Windex.

When she was at the Rancho, and thank you RR, so much for reminding me of that, the only way to dissolve the Gawdawfulo Grease was with boiling naphtha. I put Bruno in a HazMat suit (I told him it was Donna Karan), and had him spray boiling naphtha from a fire hose. It was the only thing to rid the Rancho of Gawdawfulo Grease.

And RR, you could dog on Gawdawfulo if you wanted. Her biology is completely incompatible with the biology of normal people. She has more chromosomes than a potato.

But it's the oleogenic bit that I don't understand. Every step leaves a pile of grease.

Father Prog Theocritus,

She still loves you Father Prog, you are her Hero. Whenever she stops by the NC Kollective you are all she ever talks about. Theocritus this and Theocritus that, it gets tedious. Usually I just send her out to grease up the Kollective's tractor.

I came upon this old photo of Comrade Dr. Gawdawfulo:


Any idea what that was about?

Rasputin! You've found the Zapruder photo of Comradette Gawdawfulo with the Hildo Hydro Turbomatic! This is the evidence that we've all been waiting for. This was just before she and our Many Titted Empress and Janet Reno hooked up the Hildo to the trailer three-phase generators manned by the roadies for The Rolling Stones. This is of course to keep brownouts to a minimum.

Congratulations. And we thought that Zapruder had one photo in his possession.

Father Prog Theocritus wrote:Rasputin! You've found the Zapruder photo of Comradette Gawdawfulo with the Hildo Hydro Turbomatic! This is the evidence that we've all been waiting for. This was just before she and our Many Titted Empress and Janet Reno hooked up the Hildo to the trailer three-phase generators manned by the roadies for The Rolling Stones. This is of course to keep brownouts to a minimum.

Congratulations. And we thought that Zapruder had one photo in his possession.

Are you suggesting that the Hildo Hydro Turbomatic is an Instrument Of Pleasure ™ ?

If so, I hope they are running Bio Diesel in that Briggs & Stratton 5 HP backup engine when not connected to grid electrical power.

Oh yes, Castrate, it's the same bio-diesel used on the Goremon's BioSolar I. Which oddly enough has no access to bio-diesel and had no solar power until someone pointed it out.

Then the Goracle installed a solar-powered still for corn squeezings, and that explains neatly Mr. Gore.

Oh! Poor Comradette Garage Fallow! What a terrible thing to waste! I thought she was wonderful in "The Truth About Cats and Dogs," even beautiful, at times. Well, whataya gonna do? (Sigh!)