Kimiko's Complaint

!!!!!!!!! *I am an American Eskimo, a proud and white circus dog, a
true American dog almost as old as my country, this great country I
live in. My owner is a Korean-American of rather disreputable origins
and I am FORCED to be his slave, to wear this leash (as hateful as it
is to me, this horrible branding of my neck as if, I, a mere puppy in
his eyes, only 6 months old, he ages me "puppy" as if I WERE an
immature, as immature as time itself. I must confess I have been rather
less than faithful to him, runningaround and creating a humungous mess
of things, but he seems to ignore me thus, I, a white doggy and name
me, of all names, "a white hoe", NOT EVEN A DOE or any show of parental
unit-love. (((((((((((lend me your
ears)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) as i was saying, i've
been rather drunk lately with leau and water, thinking like i am used
to as thinking, being the thing i used to be as i was am and thus
likely to be, i have decided none other, NONE OTHER, and do not repeat
this in any form or matter to run and flutter away from the sacred
vessel of the pavillion of my home into anonymity, (drinking from the
mouth of a thrownaway vodka bottle, lapping it up) and i tells you or
rather tell you, my life on the road, without any master has been quite
a trip of marvelous and delicate proportions!
1. I plan to eat less and save more.
2. Never dig into garbage that is reserved for homeless people.
3. Never look into a homeless man's eyes when he is hungry.
4. Be careful of cannibals.


I had a friend named BLACKDOG and he got eaten and the awful
trauma of the experience almost made me MAD, so MAD, my friend all gone
and pieces?


I have decided to accept my freedom as a condition of my
life. Not having an owner has made me happy? it is true that I am
lonely but you must also understand that I enjoy being a lonely dog. I
have become accustomed to my lonely cold life, so harsh is my life as
to elucidate nothing of what I know. I admit that I love being a lonely
dog only if I could truly understand who I am. It's very very tough
being a dog? nothing to really look forward to so I decided to join a
Russian circus. I had heard my owner talk of Picasso alot so I decided
to join the circus. Sometimes my master and I used to watch Bergman
movies and cry together, it being so sad and delirious and all. I was a
very good circus dog, even climbing into the canon to be shot which
almost exploded me. It's tough being me, so awful tough and sometimes I
just hate it almost as much as I hate myself and such, so very tough
and despite everything, I just don't know sometimes whether it is
really good that I am alive or not.


That's not the only thing that bothers me: the awful truth of
the equation is that my Russian circus master has taught me to jump
with a stick. This is called "pole-vaulting" and I recently cleared
four feet and my master feeds me gummy bears, just a few of them when I
have achieved something entirely extraordinary. There is something else
too? she lets me sleep in her room and has a little shitbearer and
pissbearer which i poop the doodoo that i do so well. On top of that,
she is a sublime magician. Once she made me disappear in a box from
which i could not find my way out. I barked and I was in the box again.
I guess you could say that she is really something
else.


She has recently decided to do a tour to match the miraculous
and stunning magic tricks or tacts of none other than David Blaine,
none other than the heir to the Houdini fortune.


"anyone in the audience? ANYONE? I can use my dog, Kimiko, to
be a medium of your lives. Does anyone volunteer?"


"Step onto the stage."


He is such an ugly man; i do not much like him that he is
subserviently annoying kind of like a person.


"Tell the audience your name."


"Now do not fear. I am not an evil magician?"


My throat begins to sweat and I'm not feeling especially well
for some reason. I begin to lose my grounding. I feel somehow
indisposed.


"My name is ?" I say. It's like a human has entered me. I run
around like a madman trying to get this ugly-ass human being out of my
body. IT's my soul, not HIS, and damn he be tripping on something. I'm
gonna slam his ass out of my soul. Where is my soul
now.


So there is a heaven and my soul is THERE!


"Tell the audience about your life."


I begin to float into the air, vavoom over the audience quite
slowly. I've got a microphone on my neck.


"Ladies and Gentleman, I was thinking that I was once an
Elvis Impersonator?"
"Ladies and Gentleman, possessing the soul of a dog has made me feel
out of sorts so I will make my confession quick and honest. I. sorry
fellow that I am, want everyone to love me and as a result, I try to be
everybody's friend. In doing so, I have become so many people. These
days, I just try to be nice to everyone but it is so hard, especially
when a mugger tried to shoot me for no good reason. I've lost the
ability to do anything, especially reason."
"We hear ya! We hear ya!"
"Is this true to the best of your knowledge?"
"It is so true and to have a floating dog tell it like it is. It is
surely miraculous."


Kimiko pees on the audience while floating.


"I've been peed on by a medium dog!"


I'm learnin, my Russian master says, and she's so snappy
shapely, just gosh darned bellaferous? she thought me to talk popper
English instead of the ghetto talk my master spoke to me, poor little
moi, he DARED to name me HOE, the FREAKIN friggin pervert piss off. My
new master, she is not like a master at all and she loves me dovely and
darlingwise, if there is such a word.


"Shall I compare you to a daschund-hound?"
"No?"
"You are so very very super-cute."
"I sure am?"


I'm likin it and lickin it and she showed me off to her petit
garcon, that is boyfriend in French and we were having a lovely time
when like this dude touches me and starts touching me all over like AS
IF and i got all pissed and hurley and shoots it up and down the
stairs, i just went kibbles and noodles on him, almost bit off his
dingerwang chung and shylucks and schlocks and gallocks and all, after
all, you know, the awful tooth of it all and I was just about to send
him to meet his maker and all when ALL'S GALORE THAT'S FAIR and FAR,
they Doogie-Caged me and left me all alone and weepy and tired and gone
for the night. You know, it's difficult to be me, after all or after
being a medium for this bitch, you must of course, excuse my French and
all but it just eggs me up and down the noodles?
THAT'S when i decided to escape, it was THE GREAT ESCAPE, by IT WAS
ESCAPE FROM ALCATRAZ, not even Al Capone with his bat would attempt
such a thing, and I crashed into the cage, imaginin I was in jail or
something and that is when it just happened. The door opened. I was
free. I could feel the morning air, the beauty of the world around me.
I was alive and free again, breathing in my first morning, a morning I
had ne'er seen before. Clouds seemed to speak to me. I was happy. I
hopped on a plane to Paris, pretending to be a celebrity doggie. The
stewardess even gave me a doggie-bag and a bed to sleep on and a scarf
to add. I was feeling very happy, heureuse, je suis une chien KIMIKO. I
practiced my French. It was a new world. I was leaving the old world
behind to see a brand new world. Little was i to know what lay in
ambush for me in Paris?


i arrived in paris, all fluffy and white when a woman of
great pedigree and degree looked at me, stared me down as if AS IF i
were indeed a doggie of some foreign breed. she slowly sauntered toward
me and GUESS WHAT, she asked me of all dogs if i were the mail-order
doggie-bride that she had sent away for. NO WAY IN HELL WAS I goin to
stand for such treatment. I was going to call the FBI the CIA and
whatever else was there to arrest the perpetrators of this horrific
little sidebusiness sideshow freak business that was goin on faster
than all the speeds of light put together for one single spectacular
moment. NO let me tell you something READER, it is not good to have
mail-order doggie-brides. beside, i am very much an American Eskimo of
the highest pedigree. i thought of just walking off when you guessed
it, it really happened. She took me in her arms and it felt so warm and
nice so i peed. at which point she smiled and spanked me with her prada
shoes when she got home, it was showtime, showtime. the other American
Eskimo strutted up to me and examined me as if i were the
window-display at some specialty store, and that just done it in. The
french woman soon left us to get to know each other:


"i want to tell you i am gay. i hope this does not interfere
with our marriage? i just wanted to let you know."
i wanted to laugh, i wanted to cry, i wanted to dye my hair. But i
didn't. the deep pain in my heart, something and someone who had lived
within myself seemed to breathe for the first time. i felt free for the
first time as though i had lived within a cage for generations and
generations, over and over again. i was alive,seeing myself for the
first time. I stared into the mirror, lifting my paws up as to see
myself better. i was beautiful, i thought.
in the morning, my husband and i used to walk together through the
garden. it was a really beautiful garden and i really enjoyed the
walk... we were so completely together, so free and unyielding in our
sense of privilege and even our duty. we were, after all, pedigree dogs
and all. our food was neatly prepared on dishes. i loved the lovely
chunks of meat, lying there, ready to be consumed, mainly me eating it.
sometimes our masters would have people for dinner and we were
introduced. it was a perfect arrangement. i even received a hat that i
tore into little pieces. i was so cute in their eyes.
"Life is good here, isn't it?"
"It is."
"I suppose that you are disappointed in me because I am gay."
"NO, you're the nicest dog that i ever met."
"Am I?" he wondered, "If it is so, why do you never say that."
"I just did."
could we stay all day the way we were, sleeping together and taking
care of his flees? was it a possibility, that we were even a little bit
smitten with each other. i did not know nor did i know what to say.
were we so completely together?
"They won't let me sleep with male dogs. They swear that it is not good
for me. They don't want me to catch AIDS or something like that."
"That is so kind of them."
"No dog has ever caught AIDS. Not even the Greeks had AIDS, that is the
ancient Greeks."
"That's true."