by Locker Room contributor
Bo, the White House dog, comes out as a conservative today:
Have I mentioned that I’m a conservative? Yeah, I eat the kibble that the cook dumps in my bowl, but I can take care of myself. I killed a couple of squirrels a few weeks ago, just to prove that I don’t need handouts. I still eat the kibble though. This White House is Lib-Central; you don’t eat the kibble, they start thinking you’re uppity and snip-snip the soft and tender places. No thanks. It’s not so bad living here, but if I didn’t have a sense of humor, I’d throw myself under the wheels of the vice-presidential limo when Joe Biden’s doing donuts in the parking lot.
He’s in the Oval Office while President Barry waits for “conservative” columnists David Brooks, Peggy Noonan and David Frum. Here’s his assessment of the three:
David Frum, David Brooks and Peggy Noonan, three GOP-approved media yappers. Pathetic. I can’t even tell the two Davids apart. Couple of constipated white guys who look like they got beat up a lot in junior high and never forgot it. One of them wrote some sappy article about how proud he was to have a president like Barry because he had a crisp crease in his trousers, but don’t ask me which one it was. Real genius. Yeah, next time let’s elect Mr. Blackwell president. He’s still alive, isn’t he? Peggy… she smells good, like mahogany and oranges, but she’s confusing. One minute she’s in a fugue state about Barry’s cool elegance, like he’s Fred Astaire with the nuclear football, the next she’s all weepy about teenagers who don’t know who Ronald Reagan was, and how just yesterday she was talking to an old friend about the delicious chocolate macaroons they served at this little shop on Third Avenue back when Republicans didn’t raise their voices, or nominate trailer trash for high office. You get the idea. Just another loony old broad with a column. Maureen Dowd without the desperation.
He writes well for a dog.