Fruitcakes and Wheaten Terriers

 
   "Fruitcakes and Wheaten Terriers"
   
   Holy Fire!  I'm invoking Tone Loc.  He was in a Western.  Played a cowboy.  That's pretty cool.
   When God was passing out brains, Johnny Carson got a nice one, and I got a fruitcake.  Johnny Carson never liked fruitcakes.  The cake, I mean.  
   Again, the Northern Europeans and the trickster god, the supreme ruler of the gods, not the other one.  The old man on the battlefield.  I guess, kinda, if the One, True God didn't like me, he wouldn't play pranks on me all the time.  It's only to chisel me further, I surmise.
   And my Wheaten shifts, anchors herself on the Earth; next, takes a big, raunchy poop when I see a pretty girl at the park--all the damn time.  She loves to humiliate me.  Good for her.