One of the dogs I never kick. I don’t kick dogs. I admit I was caught on tape saying “I kick dogs. Dogs come running up to me, because I always keep a sandwich in my pocket, and I just kick them. Sometimes I pull their tails, too.”
I did say that. I was caught on tape saying that, so I can’t deny it. But I do deny ever really kicking a dog. When I said those words, I was talking to Michael Vick, the pro football quarterback who served a prison term for abusing animals. I was just trying to make myself more like my newfound bro. It was just “kennel banter” with a man who ran a Bates Motel for puppies.
I didn’t know the mic was hot.
Now I have all these people coming forward saying I kicked their dogs. They are all publicity-seeking liars. They’re just nasty. Disgusting. Most of their dogs were too ugly to kick. If I were to kick a dog it would be a cute dog. And a small dog, because who’s stupid enough to kick a large dog? Think about it.
But the media publishes these lies, meant to poison the minds of my neighbors, who wish I would move away. But I won’t. I’ll never quit until I make my neighborhood great again.
The ninety-year-old woman who lives catty-corner from the mailbox claims I kicked her dog back in 2013. I categorically deny that. I have never punted her Pomeranian. Her description of the incident, in which her dog sailed into her recycle bin, like a last second, game-winning field goal, after being thumped by my admittedly strong right leg—yes, I have strong legs. Probably the strongest legs of anybody you know—is entirely fictional. An invention of her nasty old mind.
And here’s proof. Here is an email from her daughter in Florida, asking me to watch the disgusting old woman’s dog while she was in rehab. Rehab for what? People tell me it was for heroin addiction, that her “broken hip” was just a cover story. I don’t know, but some people are saying that. But who would ask me to watch a dog I supposedly kicked? Now, this email isn’t actually from her daughter, I know. It’s from her next-door neighbor. Who happens to be Michael Vick.
The tale of me booting a Bichon Frise against a garage door so hard it set off someone’s security alarm is just another 100% percent fabricated lie by my HOA and its political allies, who admit they just want me to go away. That Bichon Frise came onto me. It was jumping all over me, trying to get at my sandwich. It may have made accidental contact with one of my steel-toed boots, which I wear around the house at all times for safety, NOT TO KICK DOGS!
It’s true I said “Look, a dog. I need to put my steel-toed boots on in case I want to kick it,” over the hot mic. I was just joking with a new-found pal who I knew was into major animal cruelty. The part where I added “The ones I polish with bacon grease,” was meant in jest. I make a lot of jokes. I’m just a funny guy. Probably funnier than anyone else you know.
Why didn’t any of these people come forward until that tape came out and I denied it? They could have complained ages ago about me walloping their wiener dogs left and right. All right, some of them did, but just to my other neighbors, the Homeowner’s Association, and the police. Which makes it a conspiracy, right? Think about it.
And here’s even more proof. I have a dog myself, a nine-pound Chihuahua. Perfect kicking size. People who kick dogs say to me, “Man, I’d like to put my foot into your dog. That is one hot, kickable dog.” So I have a perfectly good dog to kick already. Why would I kick other dogs?
All of these accusations are being spread by my opponents, the neighbors, the cops and the SPCA. They want my block to descend into darkness. They know I alone can save it. From dogs.
Hey, you want a bite of this sandwich?
I did say that. I was caught on tape saying that, so I can’t deny it. But I do deny ever really kicking a dog. When I said those words, I was talking to Michael Vick, the pro football quarterback who served a prison term for abusing animals. I was just trying to make myself more like my newfound bro. It was just “kennel banter” with a man who ran a Bates Motel for puppies.
I didn’t know the mic was hot.
Now I have all these people coming forward saying I kicked their dogs. They are all publicity-seeking liars. They’re just nasty. Disgusting. Most of their dogs were too ugly to kick. If I were to kick a dog it would be a cute dog. And a small dog, because who’s stupid enough to kick a large dog? Think about it.
But the media publishes these lies, meant to poison the minds of my neighbors, who wish I would move away. But I won’t. I’ll never quit until I make my neighborhood great again.
The ninety-year-old woman who lives catty-corner from the mailbox claims I kicked her dog back in 2013. I categorically deny that. I have never punted her Pomeranian. Her description of the incident, in which her dog sailed into her recycle bin, like a last second, game-winning field goal, after being thumped by my admittedly strong right leg—yes, I have strong legs. Probably the strongest legs of anybody you know—is entirely fictional. An invention of her nasty old mind.
And here’s proof. Here is an email from her daughter in Florida, asking me to watch the disgusting old woman’s dog while she was in rehab. Rehab for what? People tell me it was for heroin addiction, that her “broken hip” was just a cover story. I don’t know, but some people are saying that. But who would ask me to watch a dog I supposedly kicked? Now, this email isn’t actually from her daughter, I know. It’s from her next-door neighbor. Who happens to be Michael Vick.
The tale of me booting a Bichon Frise against a garage door so hard it set off someone’s security alarm is just another 100% percent fabricated lie by my HOA and its political allies, who admit they just want me to go away. That Bichon Frise came onto me. It was jumping all over me, trying to get at my sandwich. It may have made accidental contact with one of my steel-toed boots, which I wear around the house at all times for safety, NOT TO KICK DOGS!
It’s true I said “Look, a dog. I need to put my steel-toed boots on in case I want to kick it,” over the hot mic. I was just joking with a new-found pal who I knew was into major animal cruelty. The part where I added “The ones I polish with bacon grease,” was meant in jest. I make a lot of jokes. I’m just a funny guy. Probably funnier than anyone else you know.
Why didn’t any of these people come forward until that tape came out and I denied it? They could have complained ages ago about me walloping their wiener dogs left and right. All right, some of them did, but just to my other neighbors, the Homeowner’s Association, and the police. Which makes it a conspiracy, right? Think about it.
And here’s even more proof. I have a dog myself, a nine-pound Chihuahua. Perfect kicking size. People who kick dogs say to me, “Man, I’d like to put my foot into your dog. That is one hot, kickable dog.” So I have a perfectly good dog to kick already. Why would I kick other dogs?
All of these accusations are being spread by my opponents, the neighbors, the cops and the SPCA. They want my block to descend into darkness. They know I alone can save it. From dogs.
Hey, you want a bite of this sandwich?
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