Furious George in Boston

My promoters went to Boston for their Christmas vacation, and they took me along with them. They said they would be walking around on this trail thingy to look at stuff, and if I came along I could get some exercise. But I didn't go along to get exercise—I don't need any because I'm a naturally gifted athlete. No, I went along for the beer. I heard that Samuel Adams guy lives in Boston, and his beer is pretty good. I figured that if I could find his house, I could take all the beer I wanted.

I saw this bar on TV one time, and they said that everybody there knows your name, but when I went in there, nobody knew who I was. They must be really stupid to lie on TV like that. At least they had beer.

It sure is cold in Boston at Christmas time. My cheapskate promoters won't buy me warm clothes or anything, so I had to ride around under Angie's coat. It was kind of hard to see what was going on with the coat all up in my face, but at least I didn't have to walk around like a sucker.

This duck was pretty tough. She was just standing there waiting for all these little ducks to catch up, so I thought I'd see if she wanted to fight. She wasn't listening to me, so I crawled up on her back to get closer to her ear, and she twisted or something and started choking me. I guess it's true what they say: don't come between a mother and her children.

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