Team Small Dog Visits the Democratic National Convention, Day 1, Russians Hunt Down Bike.


The Russians were lurking around Philadelphia on Day 1. They doped up the email servers, and doped up Hillary, so when she hid the secret emails, she couldn’t even remember where she hid them and thought they were in her basement. Also missing were her sunglasses, spare keys to the garage and that one really comfortable sports bra. Ronald Reagan warned us about this, back in the eighties, back before email was even a thing. Roofies. Don’t say we weren’t warned.

It’s ok, Hillary will be burned at the stake at sunrise, so all will be forgiven. When that happens on Game of Thrones, they burn the children, too. My god. The emails and the problems they cause. Maybe we should all just reconvene on Instagram, this wouldn’t have happened with photos and everything shrunk down to a singular hashtag.

#witchhunt
#everybodyhateshillary
#eventhoughtrumpisanantichrist
#atleastshesnotaracistlyingbuffoon

I do happen to have one intercepted email right here, plucked off my very own server:

“What a pain they act like princesses. No reg numbers, just her first name and dogs’ names. I’m just taken aback with this lack of consideration. I went to a presentation for Karate Master from Maytag of $20k for is 30 years of service for the Program at the Boys and Girls Club. ”

Thanks, Russians. What I do with this critical information is yet to be revealed, but I can guarantee you, I am not handing it over to the DNC or the FBI. I will disclose that we do now own a working washing machine, and the brand is Frigidaire. And that princess crap is bullshit. Lies. Russians, if your agents can dig up proof on who stole the nomination, maybe you figure out who stole my bike? And Gustavo’s special very own Ryobi fan and it’s high priced rechargeable batteries that got intercepted out of my garage last night? In the interest of party unity, Putin can now easily unify with Trump, then when Putin dares him to push the war button, Russia takes the Gold Medal! Genius!


Sarah Silverman tried to talk the crowd off the ledge, but she probably wasn’t the best choice for a calming influence, that’s not really her thing. More booing. Paul Simon came on and sang, but I think that the Russians had gotten to him already. They’re no Scott Baio and Antonio Zapato, Jrs, but they tried. Gustavo slunk away through a hole in the fence, he heard a passed out guy snoring super loud and I think there was barf somewhere on the ground. He wouldn’t come back when I called until I put the other dogs back in the car, marched back there and told him, “THAT’S IT! YOU ARE IN SUCH BIG TROUBLE.”

Zero tolerance. No cohesion. I’m not kidding. Ran away out of the park into the warehouse parking lot where the homeless people sleep off cheap bottles of brandy. Really, for a first day, this wasn’t going well at all. Not at all. Boo! Boo!

Then Michelle Obama swept in. All magnanimous and articulate and unification. She dished out hope and unity and peace and love and children and the future. Elizabeth Warren layed down bullet points on the big Trump infomercial that’s pulling wool over too many eyes. Michelle and Elizabeth pulled Gustavo back through the hole. He trotted through and back to the car with me. Bernie was waiting, he flung a rainbow sparklebomb as far as he could across the convention hall.

The day ended not so bad.