It ain’t easy being Indian... Shake it, or Bake it

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By Ricey Wild
News From Indian Country 12-08


My dog Mitzi almost peed herself she is so happy that her guy won the presidency. She put her vote in for “Bark” Obama and feels really good about herself and the nation’s choice.

Now she is saving up some bones for when the new first family moves in to the White House. The Mitz wants to go reverently whuff the First Puppy’s butt. Perhaps when Mitzi is properly vetted and cleared by the Secret Service we will do so. Heck I’m so happy about the election I may just sniff me some presidential puppy butt myself.

Hey! They have ass wipes for dogs now too! What a wonderful country we live in, and I say that with all sincerity. Otherwise, why are all these foreigners still trying to get in, starting with those anal-retentive back-stabbing pilgrims? Hah? Hah?! To this day, there are people who still think its alright to let kids dress up in pilgrim and Indian costumes to “celebrate” Thanksgiving. Sheez. I will be thankful when all that is over, and the historical truth comes out. Until then, well, it’s still a paid day off and you get to chow down without censure, casually start a new family feud, watch football and boogit freely.

This past month, on a Saturday night, I was mooned repeatedly. I so wish it happened all the time! The  Chippendale Male Dance Revue came to our new Porcupine Pond Event Center and showed pridner 700 women what real men look like. We ultra-deprived rural womenz literally salivated over some hot, sweet firm young bods and buns that are not spotted, hairy or sagging. The Chippendales!... OMG! They renewed my faith in the Creator, that they were made purely for we females lusty, optical, hormonal pleasure. Oh yeah! Mmmmm!

 

If you ever get the chance do by all means go! Go! Me, I didn’t even get the opportunity to tuck all the dollars I brought. The Chippendale dancers barely made it to our table cuz their scanty draw’z were already stuffed with so much cash that one guy looked like he had a dollar diaper on. Yes, the women of Rezberry, Blueberry and beyond all showed up – they shuffled, they wheelchaired (and cartwheeled) and gimped – all for the rare sight of rare men. I can’t tell anymore of what happened there for danger of retribution.

What happens in the Porcupine Pond stays in the pond.

I am feeling quite jaded. Just two days before the Chippendales show, the RBC (Reservation Business Committee) of Rezberry thought that we Rezberrians might be in need of a good laugh, and so they hired Williams and Ree aka the Indian and the White guy. You know! The only comedians who are almost as good as Charley Hill... but to continue... they did a fantastic job and I will never get tired of them. They is us. We is them. Yanno?

So much has happened in politics. I am extremely touched by the global communities enthusiastic and heartfelt reaction to our Prez-Elect Obama. My throat still gets tight just thinking about it. My Mom and I watched the returns and speech together, one of my favorite parts was when Obama said, “...and I WILL be your president,” to those who did not vote for him. Now, that is a Man.

What I don’t get is this: why can’t Gays get married? Sheez, I mean really! They don’t even have to call it “marriage,” we can just name it “garriage” and accord them the same rights as all the rest of the folks who are deluded enough to do it. Who are they hurting? Not me I tell ya. If two individuals, no matter their gender, want to commit to one another, isn’t that what a couple in love does? Shoot, I’d marry me but I have lousy credit.

This year has been a tough year for me in a lifetime of tough ones. Well, all I have is this quote from my nephew Jerone, “Well... we made it this far.” I just wanna thank you all for taking the time to read this column, I send out a big ole heartfelt hug to all of you.

It’s like my Unk Gene always used to say, “It ain’t easy being Indian, whether you shake or bake it.”

 

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