Tuesday, September 19, 2017
Saturday, September 16, 2017
The Ballad of Oliver of the Stubby Legs
Far and near, hear the proclamation,
Throughout the lands of our beloved nation,
I now extend an engraved invitation,
To mourn the loss of Oliver.
Respected by enemies, loved by friends,
His valor I’ll never fail to defend,
He was strong and brave to the very end,
As he fell in battle.
Speedy and svelte, Oliver was not,
He was pretty gassy and slept a lot,
But for his bravery my Pickle got
To cross the Bridge to Valhalla.
He heeded the call from the time it came,
Despite the fact his legs were lame,
And it’s true it interrupted his game,
Of begging for some bananas.
The battle was long and it was fierce,
Many bellies his sword did pierce,
I throw in a random word like ‘bierce’
Because it fits the rhyme scheme.
Though he warred with courage, the battle was hard,
Through his pain he inspired this bard,
Within the din, he said “Hey, Pard
Howsabout you rub my belly?”
After the rub, he stood and fought,
A little longer than perhaps he ought,
He feuded until he finally bought,
The farm where he’d live forever.
The Valkyries arrived to take him home,
With his trusty sword and his favorite bone,
Now he will never be alone,
Since he’s crossed the Rainbow Bridge.
He won’t be forgotten, he was my boy,
Oliver brought me no end of joy,
With the endless techniques he would employ,
To con me out of treats.
So lift your cups and raise them high,
As long as I have mem’ries he’ll never die,
I’ll miss his snoot upon my thigh,
But now and forever, he’s at peace.
Tuesday, August 29, 2017
(Photo by Travel + Leisure. NOTE: This is not the pic from today in Houston)
A friend from Texas posted a pic of AF1 at the airport. Yes, it's impressive. Seriously. That's a big-ass plane. And it's a unique experience. Someone commented on that post "If it was Obama, he'd be at golfing." (His grammar errors, not mine). He said this with no irony whatsoever.
I'm sorry; I'm not taking their opinion seriously anymore. If you want to debate on why Hillary would've been bad for this country, I'll bite. If you even want to say your support of Trump exists because you want to see the Presidency go down in flames so we can start over & rebuild it properly, I'll absolutely talk to you about that.
But for the people like that, who scream "Fake News" every time a magazine or website that they have no business reading due to all the big words tells them their emperor is a fucking mentally-ill lunatic and is literally--not figuratively--ruining our country, their opinion seriously means nothing.
It means nothing in the way that I am in no way suited to tell a neurosurgeon how to do their job. This Presidency is built on the belief that everyone should be heard. That is not true. I'm not saying you have to be a MENSA member to talk politics. I know a lot of people who may not have a lot of traditional education, but they're sharp and have an understanding of the world they live in.
But when the majority of the things coming out of your mouth are nothing but the buzzwords taught to you by Brietbart, Drudge, and 45, no, you can just shut the fuck up because nothing you have to say is of any use or importance.
Thursday, August 17, 2017
The Alt-Left media won't tell you the truth. For example, they won't tell you the real story behind this photo from last weekend's Charlottesville protest.
The truth is, this is a group of friends who graduated Harvard together (the gentleman on the left is heading to the institution's prestigious Law School in the spring semester after he travels Europe in the fall). They came to Charlottesville to peacefully protest what they see as the obliteration of American history, not the removal of the statue of a man who led an Army to ensure slavery and its repercussions remained legal. These are every day Americans, just like you & me, who want to protect our history and promote peace and equality in this country.
Just fuckin' with you. They're fucking white trash scumbags who should be punched in the dicks repeatedly until there's no possibility of reproduction.
Have YOU punched a Nazi today?
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
(Washington D.C., January 21, 2017)
January 23, 2017, 1637 Hours
Looking back, it's hard to figure out why we didn't suspect the bees in the first place.
The scientists kept telling us they were mysteriously disappearing, that something man-made was killing them off. We were bombarded with data saying if the bees disappeared, it would be an epic catastrophe for mankind. The fact was, the bees weren't dying.
They were leaving Earth for reinforcements.
It's been three days since the bees returned, stronger, smarter, and much, much bigger. The Inauguration Day attack in Washington DC was only the beginning, but it put the world on notice they were coming and they were pissed. It didn't help. Nothing did. Much like post-election America, Earth's population was distracted by what was happening in Washington that day. While they were watching in horror as nearly the entire incoming and outgoing American government was gruesomely killed by the now walrus-sized insects, the monsters’ brethren were lying in wait around the world.
As the controversial new President was giving his inaugural address—a hodge podge of contradictions, junk science, and out-and-out lies—the sky went black as the bees descended. The man who had been the most powerful man in the free world for less than 15 minutes looked up, cocking his head like a curious German Shepherd, and could faintly be heard saying, “But he swore he wouldn’t—“
He was cut off by three massive monsters plunging their stingers into him repeatedly as their mandibles tore at his flesh. His screams, blessedly short, were other-worldly and will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life, a life that is forever changed.
The bloody mess that had once been a billionaire fell lifeless on the ground behind the podium as the rest of the bees began their attack in earnest. A couple networks shut down their feeds once they realized what was happening in an effort to spare viewers the horror of seeing a human being ripped apart. The others, including all the cable news networks, kept rolling as the talking heads on duty provided a running commentary of the end of the world.
The bees at first seemed to slaughter indiscriminately, but soon a pattern emerged for those willing and brave enough to look for it. They were killing all the politicians who had, over the course of their careers, done their damnedest to convince their constituents science was a liberal lie to appeal to their right-wing religious voter base.
How did that turn out for you, fellas?
I’m sorry for the levity. At a time like this, it’s hard to find humor in anything so you take it where you can. Because the alternative is to simply think about what has happened since Inauguration Day and let madness take over. The plain and simple fact is, they’re intelligent. And not some form of basic intelligence or even dolphin-level animal kingdom intelligent. They recognized faces. They knew who they were going after. Seeing who they spared made that all the more apparent.
Somehow, the outgoing First Couple made it out, helped mainly due to the Secret Service immediately abandoning their new boss and his family, rushing to their old one. The Vice President’s wife, a former Secretary of State, her husband, and two former Presidents also made it out. One of the Presidents tripped over the plastic he had been using to protect himself from the light rain and fell hard. He quickly got up and rejoined the group, but I could’ve sworn one of the bees saw this and laughed a little.
The now-former Vice President stayed behind and what happened then will be repeated as legend for centuries. Channeling his inner Theodore Roosevelt, the meme-loving, jovial, grandfatherly man the nation came to love, especially in the final years of his time as the No. 2 man in the White House, threw off his coat, tore open his shirt to reveal a massive eagle tattoo and at least one visible scar across his belly. Open-shirted and disheveled, the first Vice President from the state of Delaware grabbed the nearest bee, punched it in the head, and screamed, “Come on, you motherfuckers! Uncle Joe’s got something for ya!”
The assaulted bee moved in towards the raging career politician but two more immediately grabbed their comrade and flew off, as though protecting the man from harm. The former US Senator seemed to realize what was happening and ran off after his family, grabbing the woman who would’ve been First Lady and her young son, taking them with him to safety.
What we didn’t realize until later due to the incredible carnage we were seeing in Washington, this was happening all over the world. The Kremlin had been absolutely decimated. China, North Korea, Venezuela, Colombia, Central America, Syria, Iran, governments everywhere were seeing its leadership brutally slaughtered along with any family or friends near them.
More telling were the countries not affected at all, such as Australia, the entire continent of Africa except Ethiopia and Libya, and all of the Scandinavian countries including Iceland and Greenland. Nations such as Spain, Germany, France, and Italy saw certain members of the government killed, but not the top leadership. England, on the other hand, saw the same brutality the US did with the exception of the Royal Family, who all escaped without harm. Ireland and Scotland were also spared.
It was all coordinated by the bees. Every attack on the planet was carried out at the same time, lasting a total of about 30 minutes. And then, after the attack, they left. Just like that. Just like that, the worst attack against the governments of the world in its history was over. The sounds of terror, fear, and pain echoed throughout the city. The city’s first responders would have been taxed beyond their breaking point had it not been for the hundreds and thousands of people immediately stepping up to help.
The EMTs and volunteers worked their way to the Presidential podium. The majority of the people in the stands behind it were dead, massive holes in their torsos from the bee stings and bodies torn apart by hungry mandibles. They looked for the now-former President and found nothing but a bloody suit, a red tie with Scotch tape on the back, and one shoe. One of the EMTs, a black lesbian who also worked for the Capital Police, smirked as she threw the suit (and the body that remained) in a trash bag.
Out of nowhere, a voice blasted in my head. Based on the reactions of those around me, I realized I wasn’t the only one hearing (thinking?) the chatter.
“THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING. GO FORWARD AND BE KIND.”
When the voice stopped, people continued to look around and talk amongst themselves for a minute or two. When they understood that was the entirety of the message, they went back to assisting the wounded and recovering the dead.
Later that day, I joined the remaining Representatives and Senators in an emergency session of Congress. With much of the opposition no longer among us, it didn’t take long to vote the former POTUS back into office using emergency powers. It was made easier by the fact nearly all of the newly-elected President’s cabinet had been murdered along with the President. Only his Secretary of Education remained and she could be heard to say “Fuck that” when told she would be the next President. That wasn’t the case anyway since she had never been officially voted into her roll by Congress.
My fellow Senators and I found the newly-reinstated Vice President, now completely shirtless and drinking a beer—and obviously not his first of the day—in the Oval Office after the session. He looked weary, but his eyes were bright and alert. He had blood on his hands and chest (not his) and more scars were visible now in the artificial light of the room.
He motioned to the large red cooler with “VEEP” written in Sharpie on the white lid. One of my colleagues opened it to find a couple cases of iced-down beer. The owner of the brewery had been a vocal supporter of the man replacing William Henry Harrison as the shortest-tenured POTUS in American history (17 minutes, 32 seconds), but good beer is good beer.
He had his feet on the desk and was leaned back in his boss’s chair, looking up at the ceiling while sipping his beer. As we all took a beer and opened it, the Vice President sat up and said:
“A toast. To those we lost, to those we have regained, and to a minor in melittology. So long and thanks for all the honey.”
Thursday, December 29, 2016
(General Leia Organa: 1956-2016)
It's almost cliche to discuss just how awful 2016 has been, whether it's the rise of Trump and the post-truth world in which we live, the rise of terrorism affecting, you know, white people, and the continuing and alarming rise of gun violence. On top of all that, however, is the year's seeming desire to rid us of our most beloved celebrities.
Starting unofficially Dec. 28, 2015 with the death of Lemmy, our society has seen the passing of some of our greatest famous people. On Dec. 27 of this year, Carrie Fisher succumbed to the heart attack she suffered aboard a plane about to land in LA Dec. 23. More than just Princess Leia, Carrie Fisher was an icon to those who sought knowledge and stood up for mental illness and its sufferers.
Having said that, she will forever be linked to the Alderaanian Princess made famous by Star Wars. In that light, someone wrote up the "official" obituary of General Leia Organa and it is simply amazing.
May the Force be with you always, Carrie.
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
(Not just some of the time; ALL of the time)
It's Halloween (or close enough) so we're passing along what some say are the 50 Scariest Books in the History of Ever. As always, lists like these should be taken with a pretty big grain of salt, but the tomes mentioned here are pretty strong. How many have you read and how many will you read now?