From Ron.

Click to enlarge.

It’s known as Arkancide.

That was in the subject line of an email Ron sent me. Following is the email in its entirety.

Damned dog woke me up at perzackly 12:33 this mornin. I know, ‘cause I looked at the clock. “Hey, man . . . I wanna go out.”

“Why can’t you learn to open the goddam door for yourself?”

“Just get up and unlock the friggin door, ‘K?”

“Mmfff . . . .”

“Look, you enjoy cleanin up biological ‘accidents’ in the wee hours of the morning?”

“Damned dog. That’s it! No more people food for you, asshole.”

“Hey, not my fault you keep my food locked up in a bin I can’t get open.”

So I let the crippled bastard out and made a head call myself. After he came back and settled down on his pad, I went back to sleep, which seemed like a reasonable idea at a quarter to one inna a.m.

Shortly thereafter, I’m in a very nice office with this guy in a dark suit talkin to me. “What I need you to do,” he’s saying, “is explain it all to them in a way they can understand. I mean, I don’t speak their gobbledegook and can’t get through to them.”

“So, exactly who are you?” I ask.

“I’m your president,” he says.

Average-lookin guy, maybe 6’ and 180 or so, dark suit, full head of cropped salt’n’pepper hair. Didn’t recognize him, tho. Looked a little like FDR and sounded for all the world like Harry Truman. Then I realized I was in the Oval Office, or a damned fine facsimile thereof.

“They’re assembled and waiting for you,” he says as he hands me a wooden gavel. “Be firm with them, like they were spoiled children.”

So a masked guy decked out in some kind of medieval costume and carrying a battle axe escorts me to the House Chamber where the whole kit & caboodle of ‘em are there, both houses, waitin for me to explain things in a way they could understand.

What the FDR impersonator got across to me was that I needed to clarify some basic definitions and concepts to our legislators. Among the terms they were having trouble with were ethics & morals, rights & privileges, tactics & strategy, supply & demand, hypocrisy & integrity, and several others.

I get up on the platform and start talkin to ‘em about ethics when some sumbitch yells out, “I object!”

He goes into some long-winded rodomontade about “this august body” and “long-standing traditions” and other twaddle, so I pick up the gavel the guy in the office gave me and try to bang it when I discover it’s a 6-inch-barrel .44.

After I shoot the bastard, I realize it’s Harry Reid. And then he gets up, shakes his fist, and leaves the chamber. “And that’s today’s lesson in hypocrisy,” I tell the rest of ‘em. “Now pay attention.”

Next I’m carefully explaining the difference between rights and privileges when John McCain starts making childish remarks apparently intended to be funny but falling considerably short of that goal. So I shoot him, too.

One of his aides runs over and slaps a patch on the bullethole and then pumps him back up again. So I shoot him again. And the aide patches him up and props him in his chair again. So I shoot the aide and McCain deflates again onto the floor like an empty potato sack.

After that I shoot Nancy Pelosi, but she flies off erratically like an overinflated balloon that slipped off the inflation nozzle and disappears. I take a few shots at John Kerry, but each time I hit him he just gets bigger and bigger until he floats up to the top of the dome and oozes out of the portals.

I think Hillary Clinton was there, but I never got a shot at her, and Schumer apparently was absent or something, ‘cause I remember lookin for him but couldn’t find him in the crowd.

What a great dream. Never had to reload, either. Only way it coulda been better is for the gavel to turn out to be an AR and I had a big stack of full mags. Ended with me in a stretch limo goin someplace.

Woke up around 0300 and couldn’t get back to sleep again. Ebullience and self-satisfaction in a job well done will do that to ya. Just got dressed and went for a walk about 0400 in the light of that mull foon with Monsterdawg.

Prob’ly shoulda washed the lettuce and tomato I put on that spectacular BLT I made for myself yesterday. Coulda got a mild case of Sam & Ella or somethin.

Anyway, here’s the reality of Senate “investigations”:

It must be nice to have dreams where you get to shoot gasbag politicians. I’m envious of Ron.