In a bold yet decidedly forlorn gambit to pull our national bacon from the fire before our cultural identity (some would say empire!) goes the way of Rome, Great Britain and/or the quite irreplaceable 'Sonny and Cher TV Show', an area Mayor attempted to rally all the forces at his disposal, such as they are, to stem one of the most egregious manifestations of our national decline - the subtle national seduction and/or conquest by small, yappy dogs who look like little freak shows from outer space or whatever. This coordinated public service program, code-named "Hugs, Not Pugs" is designed to draw attention to the obvious perils of small dog ownership in general and to replace that quite unnatural and sinister (yet obviously overpowering and IQ destroying!) need to shower attention and affection on some ill-conceived creature that is the unfortunate byproduct of centuries of demented and quite sadistic 'selective breeding' and to replace that disturbing and quite misplaced need with something that they obviously lacked during their tormented, profoundly hellish formative years - the natural and much less disgusting human contact known as 'the simple hug'. (Note: Being from Northern European stock and not one of those Mediterranean cultures that pretty much slobber all over each other for no particular reason, this hug thing can get way out of hand, too! What is so darn wrong with the culturally robust 'High-5', anyway?)"Good gravy, man! How can we all just stand around as this majestic human experiment, the very pinnacle of human governance ever achieved on Earth, this America we all know and love, just gets eaten away by the narcissistic excesses of a bunch of stubby, noisy, 4-legged fiends with bladder control problems? (don't forget about all that incessant barking when safely ensconced in the car and thus out of harm's way!)" raved the purple-faced Mayor to no one in particular. "I mean, can't anyone but me see that this obsession runs counter to everything that we hold dear as a culture? Oh, and all that baby-talk that has replaced normal, everyday adult conversation when one of those genetic abominations is in the room! Wake up people! The wolf is at the very door! (Editorial note: Wolf? Oh, come on now! And to think I felt myself being swayed by his somewhat poorly structured argument up to this point! They aren't threatening wolves at all, just cute little sweetie-weeties who need a huggy-wuggy! Don't we, Mr. Snuggims?) "Wake up, people! It just ain't natural to devote such a large proportion of one's mental, physical and financial resources to something that could never exist in nature in the first place! (and who would have a name like 'Mr. Snuggims, for Pete's sake!! Oh, that is just so wrong!) And this doggone town is loaded to the gills with the beastly little nightmares! (On a rare positive note, given their size, that makes cleaning up the grass in the park that much easier since no one around here uses 'doggie-doo' bags! Hey, every cloud has a silver lining!) You can forget the doggone Communists and their terrorist stooges, (Don't forget Rap music!) our real enemy is curled up right beside you in a hot pink sweater with matching collar and is wearing some doggy perfume that, truth be told, most of you should have the decency to put on before going out in public, for crying out loud! (Hey, he forgot about the cute little painted nails! We just love those, don't we, Mr. Snuggims?. It is such a nice touch and makes my Mr. Snuggims look so handsome and dashing!)... Oh has this whole doggone world gone mad! Whatever happened to human contact and the quite necessary bonding between homo sapiens? Are you listening to me?" he ranted and prattled on like some sort of cat-loving mental patient or something. He's crazy as a loon, ain't he, Mr. Snuggims? He doesn't know you like I do, now does he? (Followed by sickening kissing sounds and some indistinct and quite insane cooing!)
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