The Art of Self-Expression

I'm a huge supporter of self-expression.

I guess that's not an earth-shattering statement, living in Canada. It's kinda like saying I'm a huge supporter of eating food to survive.

We have to keep in mind, though, that self-expression is dangerous in certain parts of the world.

In Russia, if you're in a rock band and you offend the great leader, you end up in jail.

It's remarkable that a man with the physique of Putin, who controls enough nuclear weapons to melt this blue marble we live on, finds a women's rock band dangerous.

Big nuclear arsenal, tiny you-know-what.

Anywho, I'm getting too serious here. This is about Newman's visit to the vet.

We went today and the doctor offered to clip Newman's nails. Sure, I said. Better you than me.

As they brought Newman out of the clipping room (he also got two needles), there was a terrible smell.

The vet explained to me that Newman got nervous and, as she put it exactly, "expressed his anal glands".

Next time use your words, I said to Newman. I was so embarrassed.

Then I realized something. Who am I to be embarrassed?

The guys weekend at the cottage is always comprised of three things: beer, meat, and anal expression.

Just wanted to "clear the air" about that, Newman.