This, the finest merry-go-round, with its sprawling plume-framed mirrors reflecting ancient expressions of glamor; it’s lavishly adorned seats made of gold and hard rock; its beautifully carved and carefully painted dog-mouths with their perfect smiles and curving rows of canine cordilleras, moving up and down on unicorn pearl poles that spiral into the glamorous reflections skewed toward the heavens; its grotesque devilish depictions of the gods, deeply undercut into the marble trim; is quite the merry-go-round.
Honestly, I don’t tell all the kids this, but you can ride this great dane without breaking its legs. Any dog that’s been down in Gupo this long has grown used to a few bone-grinding rides now and again. Just give it a couple of aspirins first.
OK, Little Nemo, you got me. So it’s a horse not a dog. But what is the difference really? Between riding a horse and riding a dog and riding a cow. Between eating a horse and eating a dog and eating a cow. We broke into Beef Products Inc. in Amarillo to get some answers, but all we got was the boot.
Those ranchers sure are sore when it comes to talking straight about their cows, or horses, or dogs, or whatever they’re slaughtering out there in their killing fields. Must have been all that mince pie they ate last night before bed.
More about: Arthur Russell, Bill Ruyle, Mustafa Ahmed, Peter Zummo