U.S. Govt Sues Dog for $100,000 to solve health care crisis: Mutt responds to Power with Smooches

Medical insurance of  U.S. Govt Employee Refuses to Pay for Fractured Skull

Lamont responds to power with smooches

By Nate Thayer

June 4, 2014

My pal, my dog Lamont, is going to be the ruin of me yet. The lovable but insufferable mutt has dragged me, once again, into another kerfuffle with polite society, this time plunging me into the deep end of Big Trouble.

Recently, agents of the United States government stormed Lamont’s Washington D.C. home and served the 8 ½ inch tall insurgent mutt a court summons to appear in the Superior Court for the District of Columbia, Washington, D.C. in Case No: 2013-CA 8469 B in front of Judge Laura A. Cordero, for a lawsuit demanding the midget mongrel cough up $100,000 for causing the fractured skull and other grievous bodily harm to a human.

He has a court date to appear in Judge Cordero’s chamber next Friday, June 13, 2014.

The U.S. federal government’s latest strategy to fix the broken U.S. health care system is to ask my pal, Lamont, an insolvent, pea-brained, pan-sexual, black, unemployed, illegal immigrant, big-snouted, droopy-eyed, bow-legged, ridiculous looking, 8 1/2-inch-tall, two-year old mongrel canine born in a Mexican trash dump, to step in and solve the American health care crisis.

Lamont Ponders Future of his Cookie Supply if his Human is Incacerated

Lamont displaying his considerable charm, infectious personality, unique pluck, innate intelligence and devastating, non-traditional good looks

While Lamont couldn’t be reached for comment, his beleaguered and exhausted public relations crisis intervention specialist and co-defendant—that would me—made clear Lamont is innocent of the entirely specious allegations. As Lamont was taught in the canine version of Dr. Martin Luther King’s tactical guidelines for non-violent dissent, he intends to fight Power with Smooches.

Sources close to Lamont, recognized as the swashbuckling Nelson Mandela like problem solver of his species, said he was busy playing with his ball in the park and then, after snacking on cookies, would be taking a nap. Privately, sources acknowledged Lamont was unavailable for comment mainly because he is a dog and can’t talk.

Like other world celebrities Bono, Cher, Pele, Snooki, Diana, Hillary, Madonna, and 50-cent, Lamont uses just one name.

Despite being a selfless cross-species public servant of substantial renown and accomplishment, Lamont suggests that government resources reduced to seeking the financial intervention of an insubordinate midget dog as the solution to fix the broken national health care system , might better benefit from a bit more tweaking.

Here are the facts:

The Plaintiff: Peter J. McElhinney, a U.S. federal government employee with full medical coverage who fell and broke his skull while jogging in Washington, D. C.

The Defendant: My pal, my dog Lamont.

Under “COUNT 1-NEGLIGENCE”, Lamont is being sued for “causing severe physical injuries requiring ongoing medical treatment, severe pain, suffering, mental anguish, lost wages, and other damages.”

Under “COUNT TWO-NEGLIGENCE PER SE”, Lamont’s long-suffering human—that would be me, Lamont’s co-defendant—accused “of not having actual or constructive knowledge of the propensities of his dog, ‘Lamont.’”

Let me be very clear on one point: For the love of God, rest assured I am in full possession of the “actual or constructive knowledge of the propensities” of my terrorist mutt, Lamont. The subversive mongrel appears to be a fifth columnist agent, having sabotaged most aspects of my personal and professional life, effectively reducing me to serving as his butler and Boy Friday.

Frankly, he is lucky he is not human or he long ago would have been dead or in jail.

Ever since he was born in a Mexican trash dump two years ago, smuggled himself into the cargo section of a United Airlines flight to Washington’s Dulles International Airport, gave U.S. federal TSA agents the slip, and sought humanitarian sanctuary on my doorstep, the seditious mutt has been responsible for most everything that has gone awry in my life.

Lamont after medical intervention was required to alter his predilections to let his balls disproportionately influence his rationale decision making abilities

Lamont after medical intervention was required to alter his predilections to let his balls disproportionately influence his rationale decision making abilities


But in a rare exception to Lamont having a dark paw in most incidents of social upheaval, community outrage, and threats to national security that have occurred within a wide radius of Lamont’s presence since then, the insufferable mutt is innocent of these—and perhaps only these–charges.

Let’s set aside briefly—very briefly–the absurd state of affairs where a U.S. Federal Government employee with full medical insurance who was delivered by ambulance unconscious to hospital with numerous life threatening injuries, including a fractured skull, bleeding on the brain, permanent hearing loss, and a broken collarbone, deems his best option to avoid personal financial ruin rests in seeking financial assistance from a 8 1/2-inch tall, 30-inch long, goofy looking, unemployed, sexually ambiguous, financially insolvent–and I would emphasize–innocent, illegal immigrant dog to pay for his medical expenses.

I am not trying to shift responsibility away from the serially seditious mutt. The Incident with the Irish Jogger comes on the heels of numerous other cases of mayhem and turbulence resulting from Lamont’s antics that preceded Pete’s encounter with the concrete walkway and his resulting fractured skull and other critical medical calamities.

My pal, Lamont has an impressive fan club. They run the gamut from the drunks and homeless who frequent the park benches who he never fails to individually greet, to a diverse community of canines and their humans.

But, despite a considerable loyal support base resulting from his considerable charm, infectious personality, unique pluck, innate intelligence and devastating, non-traditional good looks, there has also been a small cabal of opponents.

Their leading cadres consist of a coalition of a small but fervent minority of pure bred canines, who Lamont has shown a propensity to beating up for no good reason, in league with a group of short humans under the age of eight and their mothers, to law enforcement and other officials responsible for keeping the machinery of a properly organized society running smoothly.

Lamont has a particular fetish for young human children, preferably under four. The feeling is mutual, usually.

But there was the time that Lamont tackled the young child whose guardian turned out to be a person of some renown and influence. https://lemuttlamont.wordpress.com/2012/08/02/lamont-angers-powerful-d-c-political-official/

One day, Lamont and I were bounding about the park when he spotted a said short person, accompanied by a couple of adults and a dog. Lamont came to a halt. He stared straight at her. He began to whimper and wiggle furiously. Then he bounded at full speed to give her a personal greeting. As all eight inches high of Lamont galloped towards the base of the statue of Abraham Lincoln, he passed ignoring her dog and he passed ignoring her grown-ups. Then wheels up and lift off! With tongue wagging Lamont was airborne, making full body contact mid flight with the child who, also, became airborne, both crash landing on at the concrete base of the statue of the author of the Emancipation Proclamation, Lamont’s tongue smooching her face furiously, the copious moisture of his saliva mixing with her equally copious tears.

Arriving seconds behind him, I freed the poor child from the grip of Lamont’s unquenchable affection and, on my knees, looked up into the eyes, peering over his glasses perched on his nose of the ravaged child victim’s adult guardian, skyward about one meter above me, framed by a very decided scowl. They belonged to Senator Carl Levin–as in Senator Carl Levin, Chairman of the Armed Services Committee, Committee on Homeland Security, Subcommittee on International Security, Subcommittee on Oversight of the District of Columbia, Chairman of the Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations, and Select Committee on Intelligence.

Both Lamont and I fled. “Lamont, pal,” I huffed as we exited, “If you aren’t more careful you are going to get us both in BIG trouble.”

Lamont looked up at me and said: “Relax! I had fun. What’s wrong with you people?”

Lamont being stubborn

Lamont taking a well deserved rest from his official duties as a renowned international problem solver and social and political commentater

Lamont is also committed to protecting political freedoms and canine civil rights. https://lemuttlamont.wordpress.com/2012/09/03/lamont-gets-arrested/

The lawsuit in U.S. Superior Court reads that “Defendant NATE THAYER carelessly, recklessly and negligently failed to have his dog ‘Lamont’ on a leash” and that “ ‘Lamont’ ran onto the trail and collided with the Plaintiff PETER J. MCELHINNEY causing him to fall to the ground” and “suffer(ing) severe physical injuries requiring ongoing medical treatment, severe pain, suffering, mental anguish, lost wages, and other damages.”

Other than the “mental anguish” part, which I can attest Lamont has a history of inflicting, not irrelevantly targeting me, the remainder of the legal accusations are pure poppycock.

Lamont insists on Proclaiming his Emancipation from the bondage of the modern day chains of repression, the hated Leash Laws, and engaging in what he considers a personal act of non-violent civil disobedience by daily walking the leash free picket line in solidarity with all those in bondage, past and present.  Lamont considers running free in the park named in honor of the heroic icon of freedom, the American president, Abraham Lincoln, who was also our first gay, mentally ill head of state who went to war to end slavery, the canine equivalent of sitting at a Whites Only lunch counter.

Lamont is committed to his civic duty to defend freedom for all. Especially his own, to frolic and romp unchained without armed agents of the State intervening to stifle his pursuit of happiness.

As a first generation immigrant, he particularly appreciates the opportunities afforded by civil society defined by an in independent judiciary, due process, and rule of law. Technically, it is against the law for a dog to be unleashed in Washington, D.C. and violations can result in arrest and detention without benefit of habeas corpus , the right to a trial, an appeal, a jury of one’s peers, or to present a defense. Penalties include arbitrary sentencing to indeterminate incarceration, and state sanctioned death.

From Lamont’s perspective it is unjust that there is this little publicized parallel canine judicial system—a Dog Gitmo in the heart of the cradle of liberty, Washington, D.C.

He remembers the wise adage of the rise of fascism. “First they came after the Jews, but it wasn’t us so no one cared. Then they came after the Catholics, but it wasn’t us. Then they came after the Gays, and when they came for the Dogs, there was no one left to fight to keep us free.”

Or something like that.

There was the storied event when Lamont led a community protest confronting Neo-Nazi protestors who rallied in Washington’s Abraham Lincoln Park in the fall of 2012. https://lemuttlamont.wordpress.com/2012/09/22/lamont-confronts-nazi-protestors-meets-power-with-smooches-poop-bags/

As an internationally renowned cross species rights activist, Lamont was credited by Law Enforcement officials with single-pawedly diffusing a dangerous racial and religious confrontation in the nation’s capital when the notorious anti-dog, white human supremacist hate group, the Aryan Nations, gathered at the headquarters of the canine superhero’s turf, Abraham Lincoln Park. Ordained minister Morris Gullet, who leads the Aryan Nations from his rural Louisiana underground bunker, said: “Jesus said ‘give not that which is holy unto the dogs, unto the beasts of the field, or to the Negro.’ This statement is a racial message– and the words are ‘beasts of the field’ translated ‘dogs’ in the Scripture. Well, we have many beasts of the field in our country at this time.”

A particularly creative organizer Lamont gave extra effort to recruiting to ensure their full participation

A poster Lamont and his followers created for the Lamont led counter demonstration to anti Dog, white human supremacist, neo-Nazi skinheads from the Aryan Nations in Lamont’s HQ of Lincoln Park, September 2012

But Pastor Gulett refused to show up at his own political demonstration after Nazi forward observers reported that Lamont intended to lead a counter demonstration.

And there was the armed Washington D.C. Metropolitan Police Officer on a bicycle, who made the mistake of riding past Lamont in Abraham Lincoln Park under the misimpression that his assigned patrol area included penetrating Lamont’s area of operation.

The Peace Officer, fortunately, did not shoot Lamont after the mutt chased after him insistent on biting his jackboot and nipping at his heels.

And let’s not neglect the impact Lamont has had on my personal life. The reciprocal affections of one potential love interest were quickly extinguished after she was fool enough to express a desire to meet the storied mutt at my domicile and had her pierced diamond stud ripped from her ear in Lamont’s less-than- suave signature attempt at wooing her friendship. Then there was the delightful lass, with whom I was considerably smitten, who fled my bed (which, of course, was shared with Lamont) pointedly citing her objection to her “so-called sex life” and proclaiming she was “tired of being the meat in a Lamont and Nate sandwich“ as she stalked out of my house one morning.

These examples do not include the uncountable kerfuffle’s Lamont has instigated with other canines.

Exhibit A: My hand after one week of breaking up violent assaults instigated by the mutt, Lamont on other mutts

An example of the carnage Lamont has been known to inflict. Fortunately this was my left hand which was employed to separate the 8 1/2 inch mongrel from a Pampered Pure Bred three times Lamont’s size Lamont was under the goofy impression he could sucker punch for no good reason without consequences.

The examples suggest this whole wiggling-vigorously-whenever-he-sees-me, smooching-me-all-day-and-night-like-the-insatiable-attention-slut-he-is, crying-out-as-if-he-is-being-waterboarded-whenever-I-leave-his-presence, gazing-at-me-with-dreamy-goo-goo-eyes-beneath-my-feet-all-day shtick comes with a very dark side.

Let’s be honest here: there is no arguing Lamont needs a few life lessons pounded into his pea-brain before he realizes that earth does not spin on the axis he seems to think it should.

Meanwhile, in the midst of the latest legal crisis that threatens to bankrupt his butler—that would be me—and threatens to interrupt his cookie supply, Lamont remains unrepentant, wiggling and smooching and thinking that life remains just grand, and is currently asleep on the couch, unfazed by the United States court action demanding he step in and take responsibility for the utterly failed national health care policy in the wealthiest, most powerful nation on earth.

Let’s take a look at the legal merits of the current court action filed against Lamont.

My pal, Lamont, and I were enjoying our evening constitutional around 6:00PM on January 9, 2013 in Abraham Lincoln Public Park, a public space in the shadow of the White House where citizens, both canine and human can take in exercise and fresh air after an arduous day of running the machinery of the Free World.

As dusk fell over Washington, D.C., near the base of the statue of the man who authored the Emancipation Proclamation and freed the slaves, my nation’s first mentally ill, gay head of state, Lamont was romping with his canine buddies, racing at the speed of football wide receivers round and round yapping and barking and growling and engaging in faux fisticuffs with each other, the ten-pound-when-wet-mongrel demonstrating his impressive athletic skills and evasive maneuvers on a grassy field where a few dozen canines and their humans gathered nightly.

Abraham Lincoln Park was first the location of a Union Army hospital during the American Civil War in the mid-19th century. On the night of January 9 last year, it was, once again, the scene of bloody carnage, and, as has proven the norm whenever disaster strikes, Lamont was in the vicinity.

The horrific sound of a skull cracking against concrete behind me forced my attention away from keeping an eagle eye on the antics of Lamont, and I turned to see a man, outfitted in spandex, with an IPod attached by Velcro to his arm, and earplugs in his ear, splayed unconscious, bleeding from his forehead and ears, his body motionless, unconscious and lifeless.

A grim loud silence enveloped the entire Abraham Lincoln Park, as all dogs and humans came to a halt, as happens when a potential tragedy is occurring in one’s midst.

Lamont showing off his most impressive physical feature

Lamont, who has a nose for trouble, and his Prominent Proboscis

Pete McElhinney, an Irishman working for the U.S. federal government as a curator at the Smithsonian Museum, had apparently been jogging on his evening constitutional, went airborne, and landed on his head on the concrete walkway. I say apparently because of out of the 30 or so humans in the vicinity, all of whom were watching their dogs engaging in the canine version of the evening’s cocktail hour, no one actually saw Pete fall. Because we were all watching our dogs. Who were not on the concrete sidewalk behind us where Pete lay unconscious. And none of whom had collided with Pete.

But I rushed over to the Pete, stabilized him, administered first aid and called an ambulance.

“Don’t move,” I said, as I held his head firmly down with my left hand while restraining Lamont from bestowing smooches on the man with my right hand.

On my knees, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed 911. “I need an ambulance in Lincoln Park,” I said.

I held the phone to my ear with my shoulder, while one hand kept Pete’s head firmly immobile and the other tried to restrain the whimpering, now guilty-looking, droopy eyed Lamont from smooching Pete. “What is your name? Don’t move. An ambulance is on the way. Where do you hurt?” I asked him.

Pete groaned cooperatively, as my mongrel pal, Lamont, with a chagrined expression sat staring up at me sat next to me, fearing his cookie privilege’s might be in jeopardy.

I stayed on the phone with emergency medical professionals taking their instructions and administering them to Pete for the 20 minutes before the ambulance arrived and Pete was attended to and placed on a stretcher and inserted into the emergency vehicle, and departed.

The only reason Pete, who was still knocked senseless by the time paramedics arrived, knew my name was because I took down Pete’s phone number and I slipped my card into his pocket as he was wheeled by stretcher from the park.

I called him in hospital to check in on his well-being. Pete was released from hospital after a week, the doctor’s having determined he fractured his skull and had bleeding in the brain. There was a threat, because of the location of the skull fracture, that spinal fluid might leak and cause permanent paralysis. He remained deaf in his right ear, but the doctors were hopeful it would return after time. He did not return to work for a number of days after his release. Only after a month was the medical device holding his injured shoulder removed.

But Pete did return to the dog park immediately upon his release to thank those who had helped him during his horrific accident, specifically extending effusive gratitude to me for my minor efforts on his behalf. We and the affable Irishman chatted about who had seen what trying to reconstruct the events. “I don’t remember anything,” said Pete. “I just remember I was running and then waking up in hospital.”

But there were about 30 humans and their canines, all who gather nightly in Lincoln Park who were nearby when Pete fell and cracked his skull, and after Pete was carted off by stretcher, we all inquired of each other what had happened to cause the Incident With the Irish Jogger. Unanimously, everyone said they first heard the sound of someone smacking into concrete and turned to see Pete sprawled crumpled face down on the concrete and unconscious. Everyone remained baffled as to what caused Pete to collapse.

Pete and I were in touch numerous times by phone, email, and in person in the weeks and months after his accident and Pete wrote me in one email: “Thanks so much for all your help when I was injured. I don’t remember anything that happened, but people told me that you were very kind and professional. If it wasn’t for you, I might have had more permanent and worse injuries. The last thing I remember was I was jogging and then I woke up in hospital.”

Almost immediately, Pete became starkly and vocally unimpressed with the U.S. healthcare and medical insurance system. As an Irishman living in a properly organized European country, Pete was used to free national health care systems where questions of accumulating bills capable of bankrupting the patient when one suffers grievous injuries is simply unheard of.

Pete complained that his full medical coverage as a U.S. Federal Government employee was refusing to pay for medical bills that quickly exceeded $17,000 for the hospital stay, and thousands more for the ambulance ride, the doctor’s bills, physical therapy sessions and more.

His insurance company argued to him that the ambulance ride to transport his fractured skull and unconscious self to the hospital emergency room was unnecessary and the insurance initially refused to cover those costs. The insurance company also refused to pay for his week as an inpatient in hospital, arguing it was unnecessary and not their responsibility as the doctors admitted him from the intensive care emergency section to the general patient ward “for observation”, which indicated his injuries were not serious .
They argued that the fees for his medically ordered thrice weekly physical rehabilitation sessions to regain full use of his arm and shoulder were excessive and unnecessary and his insurance company declared they would only cover $50 of the $150 dollar per session Pete was charged.

They contended they were not responsible for the medical bills to continue to treat his severely impaired hearing damaged by the blow that fractured his skull and damaged nerves in his head.

But Pete told me that what was particularly driving him crazy was the endless paperwork and documents demanded by the insurance companies, the incessant arguing, and the energy sucking time on the phone and on hold that was the psychological warfare of the medical insurance companies.

“Pete,” I said. “Do you have a lawyer? Do not talk to the insurance companies. They will nickel and dime you with the intent to wear you down to try and get away with paying as little as possible if they think you don’t have a lawyer.”

“Did you sign anything with them? I asked him.


Ever Vigilant, Ever Free

The seditious mongrel, Lamont, in his early youth, in his favorite spot on earth, Abraham Lincoln Park, named after Lamont’s iconic hero, our first gay, mentally ill head of state, the 16th President of the United States,who freed the slaves

Yes, he had, he said. Pete had agreed to outrageous terms allowing the medical insurance company to legally refuse to cover the costs associated with his broken head and related life threatening injuries, already bullied by the insurance company into unwittingly signing away his legal rights on paperwork in which he agreed to that they were not liable for a host of the medical bills Pete had received.

By the summer of 2013, it was too late. Pete’s insurance company had refused to cover his injuries. His bills were mounting. Bill collectors were calling. And, on top of his bills and his physical injuries, Pete was being driven mad by the uniquely American experience of having one’s life threatened with financial ruin because of snake oil salesmen hucksters of the medical insurance industry at the root of the collapsed U.S. national health care policy.

By July, Pete was broke, being driven mad, and desperate. “I just want someone to take this whole problem away. It is ruining my life and driving me crazy,” he told me.

Pete said he had a lawyer relative who he consulted to try and find a way to enable him to have his medical bills paid, but the problem was Pete had already been snookered into signing away his legal rights by the usurious cabal of thugs of the medical insurance industry.

Pete had investigated if the city was possibly liable, but Abraham Lincoln Park is federally owned property, administered by the National Park Service. Pete inquired as to whether Park Service might foot his medical bills. But it did not appear the National Park caused Pete to fall.

Pete was at the end of his rope, but remained good natured and effusive in his thanks for my sympathy and advice. I had already offered, as I felt sincere sympathy for his plight, to get a lawyer friend to look over his medical bills Pro Bono and the documents he had signed with his insurance company after his injuries to see what his advice might be.

That is when Pete inquired if I might advocate with the people who gathered with their dogs each evening in Abraham Lincoln Park, and helped Pete when he was injured, to chip in and help pay his mounting bills.

“That isn’t how it works, Pete. None of those people caused you to fall and break your head and, as far as I know, their are no philanthropic multimillionaires among the lot of them.”

“Do you have any insurance?” Pete then asked me.

“Pete, first of all, you are talking to the wrong guy. I don’t have medical insurance, little less cash reserves.”

Then he asked an odd question: “Do you have any insurance? Like renter’s insurance?”

“Nope,” I said. “Besides, even if I did they wouldn’t cover it because I didn’t do anything to cause your injury.”

Then an ominous email arrived on July 17, 2013.

“Hi Nate,

Good to talk to you today. I really hope we can work together to cover my medical expenses for my fall back in January. I really am not a litigious person, but my insurance is not covering the bills and they are mounting.

All the best for now,


Uh Oh.

Pete appeared to have made the acquaintance of one of my countries notorious personal injury lawyers.

I called Pete, who, a bit abruptly thanked me again and said he was going to “pursue options on his own.”

Fast forward a few months to March of this year.

My pal, Lamont, both where he feels comfortable and welcome---between my legs

My pal, Lamont, between my legs, where he feels most comfortable

In early March, I launched a crowd sourcing campaign to fund the production of my book “Sympathy for the Devil: A Reporter’s Memoir from Inside Pol Pot’s Cambodia”, in which people could support the book by pre-ordering copies or making donations to cover the pre-publication production costs. Immediately, the response appeared encouraging.

On March 4, I received a message posted as a comment to my website  http://www.nate-thayer.com from a fellow who indicated he wanted to support the publication of my book.

“I’d very much like to give you a donation to keep on doing what you do so very well. Unfortunately, I’m against paying via the Internet and phone as I have been burned in the past….Is it possible to meet somewhere sometime over coffee or a beer or two,” He wrote., concluding “Thank you for all that you do. I truly enjoy reading the truth. No one else reports on what matters, and if they do, I can’t seem to find it.

Sincerely, & thankfully,

Stuart W. Macpherson”

I called Stuart, who was effusive in praise claiming he had read my work extensively and wanted to support the book project with what he implied was substantial financial backing.  As Stuart lived in my city of residence, Washington, D.C, I agreed to his request to meet in person and invited him over to my house to meet over coffee.

Stuart arrived a few days later, and I welcomed into my home. Once across the threshold of my doorway, he gave me a smarmy, guilty insincere smile.

“I am not here to donate for your book. I am here to serve you court papers for a lawsuit against you,” he said.

That is when I learned that Pete is suing my dog, Lamont, and, “per se”, me.

In one grand, epic swoop, the four-legged walking disaster of a mutt, Lamont, had not only managed to be the dark force inciting a legal action that threatened to bankrupt me, he had managed to hit the double jackpot by putting the very source of his room, board, and copious cookie supply in jeopardy, the saboteur par excellence had impressively managed to put my book crowd funding campaign $100,000 in the red before it ever got off the ground to boot.

Lamont has his own blog, Lemuttlamont.wordpress.com. On it, he describes the purpose of his musings athttps://lemuttlamont.wordpress.com/about/:

“My name is Lamont.

I was born a poor little black dog and discovered abandoned, buried in a trash dump in an obscure corner of rural Mexico on April 4, 2012.

I smuggled myself across the border seeking a better life and now live happily in Washington D.C., where the Big Dogs who control the Free World live.

Daily, I patrol my domain to greet My People, attentively observe the shenanigans of the cabal who run the Free World, and schmooze with the canine and human hoi-poloi as a participant in the equivalent of the high powered canine social circuit.

Here I write my observations, from the perspective of a eight inch high, 10 pound immigrant mutt, of the entertaining, if peculiar, habits of the Washington power elite, offer my observations and commentary on vexing problems of local, national, and international import , detail the goings on of the sometimes-but-not-usually mean streets of Urban America, and update The People on the various antics I get up to in the process of enjoying my life immensely.

Always keeping a keen observant eye open, I gather these musings while I pee and sniff and smooch my way around my new domain at the epicenter of the belly of the beast itself, Washington, D.C.

Much of my time is spent paying homage in the nearby park named after that heroic American icon, Abraham Lincoln, our first gay, mentally ill president, where I Proclaim my Emancipation daily from the bondage of the chains of the dreaded modern day leash laws and frolic with my many new human and canine friends.

I am always accompanied by my butler and public relations damage control human, Nate, who sometimes gets frustrated at the amount of angst I cause him as I find myself in a myriad of pickles and kerfuffle’s caused by my unpredictable antics.

But we will always be best pals.”

The Superior Court of the District of Columbia legal action concludes by“demanding judgment against the Defendant for compensatory damages in the amount of One Hundred Thousand Dollars ($100,00.00), plus interest, costs, and what further relief this Court may deem appropriate.”

On May 21, Lamont received a comment on his blog page https://lemuttlamont.wordpress.com from Attorney Frank E. Hudson the 3rd.

“I write you on behalf of the Law Office of Kirk Rankin & Associates. Mr. Rankin represents Peter McElhinney in a lawsuit against you in DC Superior Court. You were served with the Summons and Complaint but have not filed an Answer, so the Court has entered a Default against you. Please contact our office at (703) 532-2700 to discuss this matter.”

My recommendation to Attorney Hudson is: If you want to try and hold the black, pan-sexual, illegal immigrant, mongrel canine born in a trash dump in Mexico responsible for the collapsed U.S. health care system, while skimming a few bucks off of the top to line your pockets with one third of the winnings from the poor fellow with the fractured skull, good luck to you.

But please, in all sincerity and as a friendly bit of advice from a voice of experience, it will only get very ugly and will not end well for you. Believe me, I know about these things. If you are going to try to out smart the wily canine, you are going to lose.

Lamont has chosen to be judged in the court of public opinion.

My guess is the insufferable mongrel will come out on top in his usual, inimitable way.


  1. says

    Well, you know what they say… “No good deed goes unpunished.”

    Still, considering the circumstances, this is a particularly galling course of action for Mr. McElhinney to pursue… I hope for the best possible outcome for you and Lamont and I hope you don’t let the bastards get you down.

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