By Greg Anthony, JD, JA
It has been two weeks since I bumped gums about that damn Covid Hoax.
It’s enough to make a grown man think he’s in kindergarten again. The sanitizers, temperature taking, standing on the round smiley faces six feet apart.
Yesterday I brought my blankie to the grocery store and took a rather lengthy nap in the vegetable isle.
Fell into a deep sleep.
Dreamt I figured out how to lick the plastic bag without taking off my mask so I could get the tomatoes in.
I was drooling when the store clerk leaned over me, yelling, “Are you dead?’
I said yes from Covid and he ran for the hills.
Jumped into the car before the Covid Gestapo started interrogations.
My trusty companion, Santiago, took the wheel. How he gets the right rear paw on the gas and left front on the steering wheel is a question I will take up in the next life.
He turned on the KOGO 640AM San Diego News with his tail.
Pretty soon he is going to start ordering his own sausage biscuits and coffee from Carl’s in the morning.
Then I heard on the news, take a left here, Santiago, transgender Kaitlin is running as a Republican for governor of California and Trump is pushing everyone to vaccinate or should I say line up for the train to Auschwitz.
“We’re home, do you need to go?
“I’m supposed to ask you that.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, go ahead buddy.”
“Can I listen to your show from yesterday? What did you talk about?”
“Forgot, let me play it.”
“Hey, first can you you show me that cartoon about the mice.”
“Yah, sure, anything for you, Santiago.” How about the Mickey one, too?”