(Editor’s note: For the first time in the 3+ year history of the Welcome Aboard The R U Kidding blog, today’s post will be written by a guest author, Walter Theodore “Teddy” Bear. Mr. Bear, who, despite his nickname of “Teddy”, prefers to be called by his first name Walter, recently became the roommate and companion of our regular contributor, Cap’n John Krissongs, and has penned this column at the request of the editors.)
Hi, my name is Walter…
A lot of people like to call me and my cousins “Teddy” but I like Walter much better; I don’t want anyone to confuse me with America’s 26th President, Theodore “Teddy” Roosevelt, especially since I resemble the famed “Rough Rider” of San Juan Hill fame so much. (I don’t mind looking like T.R.; he was a great man and one of our best Presidents ever, but I’m sure glad I don’t look like that awful Donald Trump guy…he’s disgusting.)
For some time I lived with my Mom Robin and Dad Paul and my Brother Alex, who are all really, really nice people and who were always very, very good to me, and also with the other member of my first family, that horrible Ashleigh girl; she’d make me sit in her room for hours while she practiced on some noisy, loud apparatus that she held up to her mouth that had a big hook thing that she slid in and out of its tubular body over and over again while it made these awful honking sounds like she was strangling a Canadian goose, and when I’d cover my ears she’d stop torturing the poor thing and start doing mean things to me with a weed whacker, just because I wouldn’t listen…it was terrible.
One day Mom Robin asked me if I would like to go and live with her good friend Cap’n John; she said he was a nice man who was kinda’ lonely since he lived all by himself and that she thought it would cheer him up if I went and was his roommate. I didn’t want to at first, ‘cause Mom Robin had read some of Cap’n John’s articles from the Internet thing to me, and he sounded pretty strange, but Mom convinced me that he was a very nice man, even though he sounded like a perverted llama defiler in his “posts”, and since she said I could come back and visit her and Dad Paul and my brother Alex and that horrible Ashleigh girl any time I wanted, and since she said she’d give me a 100 bucks if I went, I said okay.
So about a month ago, Mom Robin took me to meet Cap’n John. At first I was scared, ‘cause he looked like a perverted llama defiler, just like he sounded, but he hugged me and said he would really like it if I came and lived at his house with him, and since Mom Robin already gave me the C-note before we left her house, I went with the Cap’n and became his roommate.
And boy, has it been interesting ever since.
Cap’n John and I do all sorts of fun things together since I moved in with him…we read books in his library and watch sports and music videos on the computer thing on his desk (and boy, does Cap’n John say some awful, bad words when he’s watching this football team called the Tampa Bay Buccaneers when they’re playing their football games…he says they suck big) and we cook food in his kitchen and eat our meals at his dining room table except for when we eat at his desk so he can watch sports and swear at his computer monitor thing some more. We laugh at stuff we read on that Facebook thing and I help when he fixes stuff at his workbench (last week we fixed Cap’n John’s glasses after he dropped them and they broke…he was having a hard time fixing them. And I wondered if people really do that to their mothers?) And there are some things that we do that Cap’n John says I can’t talk about, ‘cause he says that people wouldn’t understand and might think he was a perverted llama defiler. So I can’t tell you about those things. I just wish he wouldn’t make me wear those funny clothes and those high-heel shoe things. But it’s okay. (Cap’n John says I have a cute butt.)
Uh-oh, something weird is happening…
FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!
We interrupt this blog post to bring you a Breaking! News! Story! from the RUKME News Desk…
-Dateline Washington D. C.
“President Trump Issues Executive Order Naming Himself To New Position”
In another stunning and completely unprecedented move today, soon-to-be-former President Donald “Tweety Bird” Trump issued an Executive Order naming himself to a new post that he’s calling the “Supreme MoneyGuy”, to be effective immediately. The new position, according to the President, is established with the issuance of the order, and among other details, orders the Internal Revenue Service to begin collecting one half of the take-home pay of all Americans and to have these funds deposited in an account to be called the “Supreme MoneyGuy’s Action Fund”. President Trump went on to say that the fund will be used to fight his never-ending legal battles over the recent Presidential election as well as provide money for the lavish lifestyle to which he says he and his wife Melanoma and children, daughter Tonka, sons Airhead and Tweety Bird Junior, are more than entitled, given that they’re already famous rich people who don’t give a shit about anyone else. When asked by RUKME White House Correspondent Penny Stocks if he thought that the executive order would stand up in court, given the recent total failure of his forty plus lawsuits over his enormous electoral loss to President-elect Joe Biden which have made him the laughing stock of the known world, Mr. Trump gave her the finger and then fall to the floor and began stamping his heels and screaming obscenities in a tantrum.
More on this breaking story as it becomes available…
We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog post.
Cap’n John took some photos of me around his apartment to kinda’ show you all the fun things we do together…
Here I am helping Cap’n John write one of his articles for the WATRUK blog…he says I’m a pretty good muse but he wishes I looked more like the Muse Serendipity in the movie Dogma, ‘cause Salma Hyeck played her, and that she’s so hot it should be illegal. I don’t know about that, but being a muse isn’t very hard work…all I do is sit here and look goofy, like most of the Republicans in Congress, or so Cap’n John says.
Sitting at the dining room table drinking our favorite wine, Chateau Les Seins 1996, while discussing politics…Cap’n John says that President Trump is a mendacious, narcissistic, reprehensible, misogynistic bag of putrid yak spleens and that he should be run out of Washington on a rail and then hung up by his balls with #3 piano wire. I don’t know, I think they should use #4 myself.
Sometimes we sit on the balcony and watch the world go by and talk about the weather…to paraphrase Mark Twain, we talk about the weather, but we never do anything about it. And then the nasty old lady from down the block comes by with her repulsive little Dachshund who barks at EVERYTHING and is as ugly as he is obnoxious, so we throw rocks from the flower pots at them and laugh like hyenas when we hit the little shit. (Cap’n John hates that dog.)
One of our favorite things to do every night before we fall asleep is to read a book for a half an hour or so…Cap’n John says it’s the best sleep-inducer he’s ever found, other than cannabis, which he says is also good for lots of other things as well, but he won’t tell me what they are. I’ve never used cannabis, ‘cause it’s illegal and Cap’n John says that the right-wing Christian redneck assholes in Florida will probably never legalize it, even when everyone else in the country realizes that marijuana isn’t anywhere nearly as addictive as alcohol or cigarettes, which are legal. Cap’n John also says that a lot of people in Florida couldn’t find their butt with both hands and a map, but I don’t about that. I know I don’t have any trouble finding my butt.
I was sooo embarrassed when Cap’n John took this pic…it was later in the evening after we had some of his famous (infamous) beef empanadas with jalapenos and frijoles and my stomach wasn’t feeling so hot…right after he took this picture, I farted so hard I fell off the seat and almost drowned in the toilet. What a nightmare.
So there you are, that’s how I came to live with Cap’n John Krissongs and some of the things that he and I do every day, now that we’re roommates. Even though he’s kinda’ strange and talks to himself a lot, I really like him and I like my new home too. We laugh a lot and make fun of President Trump and I’m really glad to be here.
And it could be worse, I could still be living with that horrible Ashleigh girl…she has a poster of Donald Trump in her closet where no one can see it and worships him all the time, that is when she’s not strangling that sliding apparatus thing that honks like a ruptured mallard. Cap’n John thinks she’s a cutie, but I’m not so sure. Anyway, thanks for listening to my story.
The above comments do not represent the views of the editors, except where they refer to President Trump as an asshole, with which we thoroughly agree.
Love and stuffed animals,
Cap’n John (and Walter)
Post Script…TG: just teasing, sweetie; I think you’re adorable and love you a mile.