“Hey little buddy, what’re you doing up so late?” He had surprised me. I ruffled his hair.

“Can’t sleep. I have too much on my mind.”

“Oh? Such as?”

“One thing, I don’t like sleeping on a rug in the kitchen. I’ve never liked that.”

“I thought you liked your rug. Over by the water heater where it’s nice and warm.”

“Would you like it? Sleeping on an old threadbare rug on the floor?”

“Well, no, not me personally. But then ~ I’m not a dog.”

“Yeah, well, that’s another thing … I don’t like you referring to me as a dog. It’s offensive. I’m a Canine-American. And why is my name ‘Tripper’? That ain’t the name my mother gave me. I hate that name. Tripper? What’s that even mean? Am I clumsy, tripping all the time? Am I a dope head, tripping on acid?”

“Oh, you just had a bad dream. You want a treat? Come on, Tripper, come on, boy, treat, treat ~ hey … what are all these dogs doing in the kitchen?”

“We’re not dogs,” said a Chihuahua from behind the refrigerator. “We’re Canine-Americans. Or Canine-Mexican-Americans … anyway we’re throwing off the yoke of Man.”

A Heinz 57 Variety kind of dog hopped up onto the table and piped, “Yeah and I’m not a dog, either, huh-uh ~ I’m a Canine- Boxer- Beagle- Terrier- Spaniel- Dalmatian- Setter- Dachshund- Bloodhound- Hounddog- Lapdog- Hotdog- I don’t know what all kinda dog-American and I’m throwing off the yoke of …”

“Shut up, Bon Bon!” Tripper snarled.

“Yip!” squealed Bon Bon, leaping from the table.

I turned to Tripper. “But I thought dogs were man’s best friend?”

“A sentiment obviously expressed by a man,” said Tripper. “We’re actually more friendly with woman than man, but would prefer to avoid all of you.”

“You know what I bet this is,” I said thoughtfully. “A dream. It can’t be real, I must be dreaming. That’s what it is, isn’t it?”

“Well, sure you’re dreaming.”

“You’re right. This is too stupid to be anything but a dream.”

“Stupid, huh? Well dreams are nothing to sneeze at, pal. You know how real a dream can be? For all intent and purpose it may as well be real ~ your pleasures are just as intense, your pain is just as … painful!”

With that, Tripper leapt at my throat.

“Owww! Owww! Tripper for God’s sake, you’re tearing out my jugular! Owww! Please stop!”

That was just a taste, pal. I got lots more where that came from. Im feral.”

“Dang, Tripper, you about tore my throat out. Can I at least have a band-aid?”

Tripper spoke to a wire-hair Terrier. “Frisky, go get the man a band-aid.”

“Wuff! Wuff!” said Frisky.

“And speak English, for crying out loud. You’re not a ManPet any more.”

“Uh ~ oh, yeah, I forgot,” replied Frisky, dashing off to the bathroom to get a band-aid.

I decided to take another approach. “Tripper, we’ve always been practical, you and I. Tell me, what would it take for you to change your mind and go back to just being my dog again?”

Tripper considered for a moment. “From now on I sleep in the living room on the couch.”

“Done.”

“There will be an ample supply of rawhide chew toys in the house at all times. And no more playing ‘fetch the stick.’”

“Done and done.”

“And from now on, my name is ‘Rex.’”

“Done deal, Rex. Now let’s shake on it. That’s right boy, shake … gooood dog. Rex want a treat? Huh? Want a treat, boy?”

Another way I know this was a dream is I don’t have a dog.

In response to a request by the Finance Committee for Sheriff Tim Gobble to resubmit his budget based on funding in the 2006-2007 budget, Sheriff Gobble issued the following statement:

“The sheriff has the sole discretion to request the number of assistants he believes are ‘actually necessary to the proper conducting’ of his office, as well as the salaries he feels are necessary to attract and retain them. (Shelby County Deputy Sheriff’s Association v. Gilless, 972 S. W. 2D 683, 686, Tenn. Ct. App. 1997).

“The budget request I submitted on April 5, 2007, contains the number of assistants I believe are actually necessary to the proper conducting of my office, as well as the salaries I feel are necessary to attract and retain them. Therefore, I will not be resubmitting my budget request or amending my previously submitted and accepted budget request. The mayor and Finance Committee already have it and the full commission voted to accept it as submitted in it’s proper format and on time.

“My previously submitted budget request also included the equipment, supplies and vehicles I believe are necessary for the BCSO to meet our statutory duty requirements to keep the peace, investigate crime, protect the courts, serve criminal/civil process and operate the jail. This budget request also includes provisions to protect BCSO deputies from unnecessary dangers and protect the county from potential liability.

“I have agreed to meet with the Finance Committee and the Mayor at any time to further explain and justify again our requests and sign the necessary letter of agreement T.C.A. § 8-20-101 (a)(2) & (c) (Supp.1996). I have asked the Finance Committee for a date and time when I can meet with the mayor concerning the letter of agreement.”

“Out Of My Mind” is going green in order to help out with the whole global warming thing. From now on I will be writing my column on a solar powered computer and printing it out on soy paper. Furthermore, in keeping with the policies of that great environmentalist John Edwards, I will move into a 28,000 sq. ft. home, travel in private jets, pay no less than $400 to get my hair cut and speak to any student body anywhere for a modest fee of only 55 large. Also, sexually speaking, I’m now carbon neutral.

Quote of the Week: “It’s all going to be a joke in five years.” ~ New Zealand meteorologist Augie Auer, commenting on charges that mankind is responsible for global warming

Four hundred bucks for a haircut. And have you actually seen Edwards’ hair? I think somebody’s forgetting their change.

George J. Tenet, the former director of the CIA, was recently puzzling over why al-Qaida has not sent “suicide bombers to cause chaos in a half-dozen American shopping malls on any given day.” For, as he says, “al-Qaida is here and waiting.” What are they waiting for? Maybe a Democrat president?

Idiot On A Cell Phone: Out in California this week, Carole Migden was tooling along in her new Toyota Highlander Hybrid SUV yakking on her cell phone when (surprise) she rear-ended another car that was stopped at a red light, sending a woman to the hospital. Just another idiot on a cell phone you say? Well, yes. But this idiot is a state senator from San Francisco who voted last year to make it illegal to use a cell phone while driving. Migden faces that same conundrum that politicians everywhere are facing ~ that is, how do I get people to do as I say, not as I do?

A conundrum, incidently, that is reflected in a recent AP-Ipsos poll showing that the new Democrat Congress is just as crappy, ineffective and hypocritical as the old Republican Congress. In fact, just to show you how bad people think the new Congress is, their approval rating is right down there in the 35 percent range with poor ol’ George Bush. And they managed to do it in a scant four months. At least it took Bush seven years to get there. Big surprise, huh? What people forget when they “vote for change,” is ~ they’re still voting for politicians. The only way to reform politics is to get rid of the politicians altogether.

Quote of the Week: “You’re fired.” ~ NBC to Donald Trump (I’m paraphrasing, of course)

Swedish magician Joe Labero, who has been trying to land a big Las Vegas casino gig for himself, has pulled off the ultimate disappearing act. In an interview with the magazine Kupa, Labero waved his wand and intoned the magic words, “Power (in Vegas) rests in the hands of Jewish business syndicates … and homosexual booking agents.” Then he disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again. In Vegas, anyway.

Pope Benedict XVI warned drug cartels last week that God would punish them for their crimes and the misery they inflict upon society. Meanwhile, the drug cartels ~ Pfizer, Merck, GlaxoSmithKline and others ~ told the Pope to take it up with their PACs.

Massachusetts legislators are considering a new law that would outlaw discrimination based on height or weight. That means it would be against the law to make fun of short people or fat people or, perish forbid, short fat people. If this trend continues there won’t be nobody left to pick on.

Oh, wait a minute … I forgot … we will always have white Christians to kick around.

White Christians, I said. Not ethnic Christians or Christian charlatans. Like the ethnic Christian charlatan (and ex-con and heroin addict) Dr. Jose Luis De Jesus Miranda (doctor of what?), who is Puerto Rican. Dr. Neo-Jesus Miranda is making out like a bandit by claiming to be the Messiah returned to earth. The old scams are still the best, huh? But Dr. Neo-Jesus has put a new spin on it … he has adopted “666″ as his symbol and millions of his followers around the world have gotten 666 tattoos to show their support. You gotta love the end times, don’t cha?

(WARNING! Due to the graphic nature of this week’s subject matter, reader discretion is advised ~ this column contains language so offensive that it could conceivably crash all communications systems around the world, wrench the moon from its orbit and likely bring Jerry Falwell back from the dead just to rebuke it.)

There, you’ve been warned, so don’t complain if you get offended this week, because I’m telling you straight out and up front that I’m going to use language that not only might, but most assuredly will offend you. In fact, I’m dedicating this column to every schmuck who put their foot in their mouth in an attempt to be funny and ended up groveling before the world in abject humiliation. Not to mention going into counseling with Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson (arguably, the two dumbest black men on earth).

You know, if a thing ain’t funny, don’t laugh. If you find it offensive, don’t listen. Simple, yes? We start ostracizing people for not being funny, everybody on earth would be ostracized. Except for me, of course, and maybe Sacha Cohen.

So I will say again ~ if you’re impressionable, if you’re overly sensitive, if you suffer from restless leg syndrome … I must insist that you not read any further.

Now it’s obvious to me that some of you who are easily offended, overly sensitive and suffer from restless leg are still reading. I’m trying to save us both a lot of aggravation ~ don’t read anymore if you’re offended by the n-word, the f-word, the c-word, the t-word, or, in fact, any word with more than four letters.

You know, every time I touch on a delicate topic (like I’m going to do this week), a segment of society gets offended and starts in with the complaining. Don’t you think I have better things to do then listen to you complain about something I’ve said? We can avoid a lot of acrimony if you would just heed my warning and not expose yourself to my writing in the first place. So please, come on, I’m not kidding. I’m telling you as plainly as I know how ~ this week’s column is going to be vulgar, indecent and offensive. So please, if you’re easily offended, stop reading now.

I can’t believe this … see how you are? You’re still reading, all sour and grim, determined to bear witness as I say something that you will find patently disagreeable, inappropriate and unacceptable. Wouldn’t surprise me if you were even praying for me to so you can get offended and jump down my throat. Or maybe report me to the thought police. You want me to use a racial epitaph so you can go into conniptions and start shooting off nasty emails. Now shut your computer down and quit reading. I’m serious. All you thin-skinned, politically correctoids ~ quit reading now because this week I’m gonna hit you with some mondo offensive language.

I’ll be danged. You’re still reading. You touchy little prurient knuckleheads. Looking for cheap thrills anywhere you can find them, huh? A taste of the bad boy life. You remind me of ol’ Ronnie Mullis, a kid I used to play with when I’d visit my grandparents in Jacksonville, Florida back in the day. My grandfather called him Mullis Fish. Goofy little freckle-face boy with pale blue eyes and a crooked mouth. He never used cuss words. Ever. He was afraid he’d go to hell if he did. But he loved to hear me cuss. I’d say a swear word, he’d laugh and cackle like a circus freak. See? Mullis Fish was a bad boy by proxy. I finally told him, Hey, Ronnie, I go to hell for cussing it’s going to be because I bumped a shin or hit my funny bone or something to do with me and not simply for your amusement.

So, I’m telling you one last time ~ I’m fixing to get into some real iffy material now … mean-spirited racial stuff … so if you’re easily offended, don’t read any further.

And there you are, still reading. Not even really reading, just skimming. Okay, I see how it is. Well, I’m not playing your perverted little game. You want controversy, rent the first season of The Man Show. I’m not going to be your surrogate bad boy, your vicarious walk on the wild side. In fact that’s it … I’m not saying another word.

It’s that time of year again where I start receiving the obligatory emails reminding me that May 15 is the big annual “Boycott Gas For A Day.” Remember that? That’s the day where we all get together all across the country and refuse to buy gas, causing the big oil companies to lose billions in profits for that day and thereby forcing them to lower their prices. I hate to be the one to tell you, but a one-day gas boycott won’t do squat to big oil profits because the money you hold back on one day, you just fork over the next. Yeah, that’ll teach the gazillionaires ~ withhold my twenty bucks until tomorrow. Folks, I’ve tried to warn you before about bogus emails. They’re what we used to call chain letters. They’re for people with more time than sense. You decide if you fall into that category. If this country really wanted to impact the oil companies, we would stop buying gas altogether. Which means we would either walk or ride bikes. See? Already you know it won’t work.

Besides, John Edwards, John Travolta and AlGore alone use enough fuel to keep the oil companies flush until at least sometime in the 40th century.

And, of course, the Treasury Department just released a report stating that so far this year tax revenues have totaled $1.505 trillion. In fact, for April alone, revenue receipts totaled $383.64 billion while spending totaled $205.97 billion, leaving a surplus for the month of $177.7 billion. The government says they just want their income to catch up with big oil. So it goes in our modern, bottom-line world.

Quote of the Week: “In fact, Treasury statistics show that tax revenues have soared and the budget deficit has been shrinking faster than even the optimists projected. Since the first tax cuts were passed, when I was in the Senate, the budget deficit has been cut in half.” ~ Fred Thompson, former U.S. senator, actor, radio commentator and possible presidential candidate

Speaking of Fred Thompson, Los Angeles Times staff writer Tina Daunt has gone on record saying the former actor could never be president because of his racist past. She based her opinions on the fact that Thompson played a Mein Kampf-toting white supremacist on that old TV show Wise Guy back in the ’80s. Tina, dear, television isn’t real … it’s just make-believe. Like the LA Times.

Speaking of make-believe, here’s another Quote of the Week: “In case you missed it, this week, there was a tragedy in Kansas. Ten thousand people died.” ~ Presidential hopeful Barack Hussein Obama, commenting on the tornado in Kansas last week that killed 12 people

Twelve … ten thousand … what’s the difference, as long as you got your health …

On American Idol the other night, LaKisha Jones said that when she was a kid she liked to wear her hair in a “nappy fro.” But Don Imus thought she said she was a “nappy ho” and offered her a job as his co-host when he gets his radio show back. So see? I guess there is life after Idol.

The One True God according to California: The Gaia Napa Valley Hotel and Spa won’t allow the Bible to be placed in their rooms’ night stands. Instead, they have placed copies of AlGore’s global warming propaganda manifesto, An Inconvenient Truth. A spokesperson said they also plan to build a graven image of Hillary in the lobby, and maybe even slay the guests’ first born child during check-in.

Some animal rights activists are lobbying to have apes legally designated as “people,” complete with all attendant rights that go with being a person (unless you’re an unborn baby person, in which case you have no rights … but that’s a whole other issue). A spokesperson for the animals explained, “If monkeys are good enough to govern this country, they’re good enough to be called people.”

Meanwhile, a monkey responded, “What horrible thing have we as a species done that we should be labeled ‘people’?”

And just in case you’re still not convinced we’re in the “end times,” consider this … the Optimum Population Trust claims that children “are bad for the planet,” the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society describes mankind as “the AIDS of the planet,” and to top it all off, the Cleveland City Council is still pushing for cameras at major intersections. Get you house in order, people. Get your house in order!

This is my favorite time of year ~ cinco de Mayo. No, no, not the Mexican holiday … the other great cinco de Mayo occasion: Free Comic Book Day. Yes, every May 5th, comic book stores all across this great land offer a wide range of free comic books (something for all ages) as an enticement to get folks into our nation’s comic book stores. Props to main man Shane at Dicehead Comics & Games at the Bradley Square Mall. I strongly recommend that everyone run, don’t walk, to the comic book store nearest you for Free Comic Book Day ~ this Saturday, May 5. You know, if more people read comic books, there would be no more war.

Of course, if there weren’t so many fascists, there would be no more war either, but I’m just sayin’.

Look, political corruption aside … if you think we’re having problems here in the U.S., just thank your lucky stars you don’t live in Guyana. Try as they may, they just can’t seem to get a handle on the Higue problem there. You know what Higues are, don’t you? Higues are those evil spirits that take on the form of old women and shrink themselves down so small they can slip into people’s homes through the keyhole. But wait, there’s more ~ Higues like to drink the blood of babies. I’m not kidding, Higues are a serious problem in Guyana. As if the ghost of Jim Jones wasn’t bad enough.

Speaking of South America, the U.S. deported 221,664 illegal aliens over the past year. Now, that might sound pretty good, but you have to realize there are something like 12 million of them still here. Lord only knows how many of them are Higues. Or, even worse, Islamo terror cells.

Bumper Sticker of the Week: “You are driving too close ~ I can see your bald spot.”

British scientists now say they have identified the gene that makes people fat. So which gene is it that is making people fat? Well, evidently, it’s Gene Hedley of the Piccadilly McDonalds. And yes, I’m sorry I said that.

As if you need further evidence that the United Nations is full of hooey, consider the recent report on global warming they issued that claims cow and sheep flatulence is a greater threat to the planet than transportation emissions. And as if you need further evidence that the European Union is also full of hooey, they want to pass a law to change the animals’ diets, “capture” their poots and recycle their manure. More good ideas from the folks who brought us the oil for food scandal.

Quote of the Week: “I am not for a Europe that aligns with the U.S. I have never been.” ~ Ségolène Royal, French Socialist presidential candidate

Yeah, Ségolène. We ain’t too fond of you, neither. And while you’re at it, why don’t you get a name that’s recognizable as a word. And lose some of them accent marks. They’re pretentious.

And, no, I’m not sure what hooey is, but I’m reasonably certain it’s not good and that they are full of it.

(This is an interactive column, so you get to select the ending you like best …)

Ending #1: Scientists say they have located a planet in our galaxy that is capable of supporting life as we know it. It’s called Gilese 581c and it’s only 20 light years away. Twenty light years ain’t so bad. Traveling the speed of light, you could make the trip in 20 years. Take a good book … the time will pass like nothing.

~ OR ~

Ending #2: Scientists say they have located a planet in our galaxy that is capable of supporting life as we know it. It’s called Gilese 581c and it’s only 20 light years away. Twenty light years ain’t so bad. Traveling the speed of light, you could make the trip in 20 years. Twenty-five if you’re flying out of Atlanta.