In This Installment (12.21.2003):
BARNEY BUSH: FIRST SCOTTISH TERRIER
Hello! I am Barney Bush, and I am the First Scottish Terrier. I am a very cute doggy-woggy who loves to play! I
live in the White House with my daddy and mommy, President and Mrs. George W. Bush. They have two other pets, too:
a doggy named Spotty and a kitty-cat named India. But they don't like those two as much as me, which is why I get
to be in way more pictures and movies and stuff and get to have a chat with you. Do not be afraid that I appear to
have the ability to communicate with language. Contrary to Pentecostal teachings, this does not mean I am possessed by
demons – even though I am black. I can't wait to answer your questions here on "Ask the White House," so let's
Donna, from Sierra Vista, AZ writes:
First let me say , you are a beautiful Scotty. Do you like living in the White House and who takes you for walks?
Thank you for the very nice compliment, Donna! You are clearly a refined lady with a very keen eye for canine breeding. My blood line can
be traced all the way back to Farquhar the Great, lapdog of famed Scotsman Robert the Bruce! Also, the bitch (and kids, please understand
that the word "bitch" is not a curse word! It means "doggy mommy!") who bore me
was named "Coors," (the same name on the empty cans in my sister Jenna's closet) and belongs to none other than former EPA
Administrator Christine Todd Whitman! It's true! So you can understand why my human mommy and daddy
didn't flinch over spending $7,000 on me. Besides, their other dog is retarded, and was foisted on them by my daddy's mommy –
the big wrinkly lady who looks like Ernest Borgnine in pearls.
As for living in the White House, yes, it is very nice. There are many servants to take me for walks. Usually they just
let me run around and do my business on the South Lawn or in the kitchen. Sometimes though, Mr. Rove uses a big red gooey sticker
to make me hold it in, and then we walk over to the Senate parking garage, where he lifts me up so I can extrude a putrid rope of doggy
fudge right onto the windshield of John McCain's Chevy Blazer.
Chester Rawling, from Lackawana, NY writes:
Hi Barney! It sure is swell to meet you! There must be a huge number of guests coming and going around the
big ol' White House. Who is your favorite?
Yes, there are many famous and important people who come to the White House. I don't know if I can choose just one favorite though,
because lots of them are very nice to me. When Bruce Willis came, he played fetch with me in the Map Room. When Ariel
Sharon came, he let me lick up all the yummy bagel crumbs that he had dribbled into his crotch. And one time, when
Rupert Murdoch came over to talk strategy with my daddy, he taught me a super-fun game where I playfully nip at Helen Thomas' ankles
whenever she's walking down a poorly lit staircase!
I sure don't like that Korean Ambassador though. I just met him a few weeks ago, and he looked at me real funny, and kept on licking
his lips and asking my daddy whether I was corn-fed.
Barney, from Georgetown, TX writes:
Can you tell me how you got your name? I was named Barney after Barney Fife in the Andy Griffith show.
I am a TX Dachshund & act just like my name sake.
Hi Barney! I like your name! Rufff! Ruff! Hee-hee!
Lots of people wonder why I am named Barney. Because I didn't join the Bush family until just a couple months before my daddy
became President, some assume it is due to the series of high-priced focus groups my daddy's campaign held. They concluded
that naming me Barney would invoke kindly thoughts of the sweet and benevolent children's entertainer Barney the Purple Dinosaur.
Well, that is a nice story and all, but the truth is that at first, my daddy was so opposed to the idea of getting a Scottish Terrier
that he said, "If you really think I can't win this election without some faggot dog, then I'm sure as shit gonna name the little
kick-me fucker after a faggot Congressman!
Anyway, it is also a real easy name for my daddy to pronounce. Sometimes he just calls me "Barn" though. He says, "Barn! What's
goin' on with that little red pecker of yours? You'd best get that worm down, before Mr. Cheney gets in here and kicks you
six ways to Sunday!"
Bob, from Williamsburg, Brooklyn writes:
What was it like to be dropped on your head? I imagine it wasn't fun. Do you harbor any resentments against the
President, and if so, does that worry the Secret Service?
Ouch! It hurted something awful getting dropped on my little noggin like that! We had just landed in daddy's big plane, and mommy
had carried me down to the ground where all the girls were waiting to meet us. But mommy hadn't had a Benson & Hedges Menthol 100 in
almost two hours, so she wanted to get into my daddy's big car with the dark windows right away. That is why she threw me at my
daddy like a shot put, and he couldn't help but lose his grip on me after downing all those Bucklers. So no, I did not get mad at my
daddy for almost killing me, because it was not really his fault. Besides, if I had growled and snapped at him, then all those nice
girls would not have kneeled down to pet me and let me sniff their hoo-hoos.
Jan King, from Costa Mesa, CA writes:
Are you fixed? or are you planning on having a puppy family of your own??
No, I am not fixed. I am far too valuable for that. My mommy and daddy say that when I grow up, they intend to put me out to stud
to the very highest bidders. When I heard that, at first I was very happy because I thought I would be doing the nasty with lots of
Republican trophy wives' tasty house bitches, but it turns out that they mean to do it using boring science
instead. Oh well! Next question.
Tobias, from Angelbachtal, Germany writes:
Hi Barney, i heard they made a movie with you and your "daddy." I also heard
that you can download it somewhere. Could you please send me the address for the download Barney?
Yes Tobias, this is the second year in a row when the nerds who run my daddy's website thought it would be fun
to stalk me for two days and make a movie to celebrate Jesus' birthday. And despite what people say, the address is
not doggiesex.com. No, the video is available on my daddy's Christian homepage, and you can watch it by clicking
overall, I am pleased with my performance this year, I am just disappointed that the sequel has to have any
co-stars at all. You see, I am very convincing as a very good doggy-woggy who loves to play, but nobody else can
act for squat. I mean, I thought that all great liars are also great actors. And my daddy says
that he only hires the very bestest liars in the whole world. So what gives? Fortunately, the terrible
acting is almost obscured by the even worse production values and atrocious writing and editing. It's a good thing, too –
because otherwise the voters might have been disappointed knowing how many of their tax dollars were
spent on those poopyhead actors!
Peter Whitcopf, from Salisbury, MD writes:
Do you, or any of the other First Pets ("Animal Companion" is too liberal a term, don't
you think?) get to sleep with the President and First Lady? If so whose side do you sleep on?
Yes, both me and Spotty get to sleep in bed with our mommy and daddy. We take turns. One night I sleep in my daddy's bed
and Spotty sleeps in my mommy's bed, and the next night I sleep in my mommy's bed and Spotty sleeps in my daddy's bed!
I like them both lots and lots, but sometimes it gets real scary when mommy falls asleep watching Home Shopping Network and spills
her bedtime tumbler of Jose Cuervo onto the acrylic comforter when there's still a lit ciggie dangling from her mouth! That's
when I have to bark real loud to waken her, or else we'd both get burneded up like in a big Texas barbecue!
OK – it is time for my weekly shampoo, manicure and anal gland expression. Got to go. Thanks for coming!
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