On Best Toyes Ever

I'm starting to think that the joke yesterday wasn't a good idea. I mean, I'm all for a good laugh, but I think I'm realizing that it's just sacrilegious to make a joke of certain things. I had two nightmares last night- one that Hillary read my post and made me be her mascot, and another that I was involved in a war protest. Wicked scary.
Anyway, I was grateful to wake up. After doing so, I went straight to my basket of toys and pulled out my newest and most favorite one, Mr. Bush, and loved him for about an hour. . .
By way of introduction to my Bush doll (he's not really a "doll" in the traditional sense of the word, btw) I recently mentioned that our friend Charles, and his now fiance Tessa, were visiting a few weeks back. What I didn't have a chance to mention yet was that they bought me my very own George W. Bush. This video has footage of me receiving him for the first time. I don't know why my dad thought it was so funny to keep him from me for so long, or why he let Morgan's dirty liberal mouth touch him, but you'll see how I kung-fu rabbit-kicked her away and saved Bush for my very own.

Anyway, most of my toys I just destroy, but not Mr. Bush. I like to tenderize his feet- just kinda gnaw and lick his cowboy boots.