Bo admits he will miss the White House.
Bo Obama sat and stayed in front of a constellation of camera flashes and biped reporters this morning to give his farewell address in the Oval Office.
His American Hairless Translator — a beauty known as FLOTUS — stood by his side, balancing meagerly on two legs. With a sniff from her presumably ornamental nose, she tightly gripped a Kleenex box and a Kong stuffed with fair-trade, organically-sourced macadamia nut butter. Her future is uncertain.
Though he initially complained that the Oval Office was devoid of rawhide and smelled like an old white man’s balls, Bo admitted he has come to love this space. During the briefing, he described how much he will miss the smooth curves of the blue Resolute desk, the Yellowstone resin Lincoln bust and “all the other things that are so unimaginatively rendered in the palate of either blue or yellow.” Bo said he took pride in signing historic legislation, recalling how he would patriotically scrawl his John Hancock across the presidential seal of the blue eagle rug with a triumphant squat. He says he is proud to have butt-scooted his way across two inaugurations.
It has not always been sunshine and Snausages® for the first dog. Though Bo was raised in the United States, he was the subject of a birther scandal of great controversy. Fringe theorists demanded he resign due to hailing from Portugal and also “the water." Bo has also come under fire for identifying as a black male. His critics complain that he has not acknowledged the ivory fluff that coats both his front paws.
It is bittersweet that although the Obama Administration has created 14 million jobs, Bo’s departure leaves his thirty-seven immediate carers jobless. Bo stated that according to his calculations, this establishes the BoBama administration unemployment rate at precisely 100% — the deepest hole he’s dug himself yet.
Some also questioned his eligibility to serve as first dog when it was learned that he is a eunuch. To this, Bo simply references title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the fact that he no longer wants to bone FLOTUS’s calves. He maintains that he does not hold POTUS in contempt over the issue, reminding the gaggle of reporters that being Commander In Chief takes balls.
After a four minute groin licking session, Bo delivered a poignant message for his successor. “The threat from terrorism is real, but we will overcome it,” said Bo through his soon-defunct translator with the uncommonly toned arms. “These individuals stockpile Amazon boxes, infiltrate neighborhoods and abuse millions of doorbells. We will destroy UPS and any other organization that tries to harm us… our military will tirelessly hunt down these terrorists who’ve gone postal.”
Bo has left his successor a plethora of “pee-mail” across the White House Gardens. He said he tried to maintain an uplifting blend of political wit, urea and fat cat jokes. He felt determined to send positive messages after discovering the reprehensible smut left for him by a Scottish terrier with a personality disorder. When asked what these messages were, Bo remained stoic, simply stating that they made him a little hot under the collar.
He said he wouldn’t be repeating the ticked-off rants of a cantankerous son-of-a-bitch named after a purple dinosaur.
Bo — children’s book author, Teen Choice Award recipient and gym shoe glutton — is uncertain as to what the future will bring. He wonders whether his next palatial edifice will have the same number of windows for him to practice his nose art on (147) and who will now dry clean the Tempur-Pedic® beds he routinely eschews for the floor or a decomposing squirrel. He looks forward to negotiating the new terms of his leash.
It is bittersweet that although the Obama Administration has created 14 million jobs, Bo’s departure leaves his thirty-seven immediate carers jobless. Bo stated that according to his calculations, this establishes the BoBama administration unemployment rate at precisely 100% — the deepest hole he’s dug himself yet.
Bo, tailed by his fur stylist, made a pensive shuffle across the pristine grounds showcasing nails that had obviously been treated to a recent pedi-pedi. Raising his perfectly coiffed head to the sky, he sniffed measuredly. Fearless under the scrutiny of millions of onlookers, Bo squatted on the South Lawn of The White House, arched his back and produced a presidential poop. It is, perhaps, a sign of things to come.
