Ran into StudMuffin Jeff Gannon down at the Army Surplus Store yesterday, buying some cammo condoms and an economy-sized jug of Locker Room. We got to talking about this and that, and he told me what with recent events he's been feeling like he needed some extra protection, so he'd gotten himself a mean-looking old Rottweiler to walk around with.
I asked him what he'd named the creature.
"Walter," he replied, after Walter Mondale -- he thought it would be funny to lead the man Reagan bitch-slapped in '84 around by the collar.
But apparently he'd overfed the poor thing, and it got fat and complacent.
So he snagged another Rottweiler, even meaner-looking than the first. And what was the name for this new dog?
"Walter." Walter Cronkite, natch. Liberal Media. You know.
I pointed out that having two dogs with the same name might get confusing, but he pooh-poohed the notion. On the contrary, it's more efficient. You only have to call 'em once. Makes sense, I guess.
Well, as it turns out, tender-hearted old Jeff had overfed this dog too, and just like Walter, it got fat and lazy. I asked how often he exercised the beasts.
"Exercise? I tried that, and it didn't work."
I tried to point out that regular exercise and reduced calorie intake were the approved method for weight loss in humans and canines alike, but Jeff wasn't having it. He laid a muscular hand on my shoulder, looked me manfully in the eye, and intoned,
"You can lead a whore's two Walters, but you can't make 'em shrink."