My Dog Wants To Be A Comedy Writer For The Biden Campaign

William Southold | Opinion Columnist |The Southold Report
“Speaking fiction to power one story at a time.”

I was having a quiet cup’a joe this morning when Middie came into the room.

“What’s up, Big Chief?” she asked me.

I never get to watch Morning Joe in quiet when Middie gets up. I paused the show.

“Nothing, just trying to catch up on the latest Trump debacle.”

“What’s he done now - declared Fauci Public Enemy Number 1, required the post office to hang his mug shot?”

I gave a little chuckle. “No, nothing that obvious.”

“Don’t tell me then, I was playing with the notion of having a Trump free day. Not so easy.”

“No,” I agreed.

“Seriously though,” she said. “I had this dream that I was a joke writer for Biden’s campaign.”

“You might make a good one.”

“Think so? I think I remember some of my jokes from my dream . . . wanna hear them?

Oh no, now I was sorry I encouraged her. She sat down, looking at me, and started in.

“All of these Biden could use in the debates, if Trump doesn’t chicken out, or I could go on the Daily Show?”

I put down my cold cup of coffee, resigned to the thought that it might be a while before I could warm it up.

“How about, Can I get you a glass of water? You know, that whole Trump having trouble holding a glass of water thing.”

I smiled down at her, but didn’t say anything.

“Or, Congratulations. You just broke the Guinness Book Of World Records for being the world’s best punchline.”

Now that was funny. At least I thought so. I chuckled.

“Hmm, tough audience.”

“What about when Trump gets nasty?” I asked. “How should Biden respond?”

Middie didn’t hesitate. “At least you’re right about one thing. Your personality sucks, man. Never thought about doing anything about that? Amazing.”

OK. that was a pretty fair comeback. Was my little dog on to something?

“Maybe Biden could have an aide drop something loud off camera, and then say, “Did you hear that? Your numbers are dropping again.”

She was on to something. I laughed out loud, but wondered how far she would take this. She’s not exactly the most stoppable force.

“OK, enough,” I said. “Can I be your agent? I’ll make some calls.”

“Right on! I’m going to have to give this career move some serious thought.”

With that, she got up to leave. All of a sudden, she stopped.

“Oh, one more thing Bub. If you’re going to start writing about me again, get one thing straight. I’m not your dog. If anything, my total alliance remains with your wife. I am her dog!”

With that she was finally done with me, thank the Lord. I sat and thought, not even having the energy now to get a fresh cup of coffee, “I guess I’m in for it.”

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Middie, in her most comfortable spot.