Yeah yeah August, a month chock-packed with 31 days of dwindling yet likely sweltering summertime days with annoying insects a’plenty. Hey, how ’bout Elvis Aaron Presley Day who died on an August 16, and he’s already been on a U.S. postage stamp? Call it National Hound Dog Day, what the fock. I can only imagine that equation would also apply to a “dog day,” in that the master’s day of 24 hours-times-seven would equate to a nifty 400-hour day for Fido. And all I can say is it’s time to be no longer simply Native Americans, Native Mexicans, Africans, Euro-focking-peans, Muslimites, native blah-blah and blah-blah.