Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam…
“Putting a little occasional laughter into the almost always annoying.”
I rear-ended another car this morning. I tell you, I knew right then and there that it was going to be a REALLY bad day! The driver got out of the other car, and wouldn’t you know it! He was a DWARF!! He looked up at me and said… “I am NOT ‘Happy!’” So I said, “Well, then, which one ARE you?”
That’s how the fight started.
“Another” car? Did you “Sneezy” again, or are you driving like Santa’s unmentioned dwarf, Sleazy, drives… shifting the wrong, long, hard “stick?”
It’s backwards week here at Ye Olde Scribe, so Scribe will start with the last one first…
What Does One DO with a Dead President?
Gerald Ford… Weekend at Bernies meets Caddy Shack? Drive him around the golf course and hit his balls around. No, damn you! The white ones with… wait, he was “white…” The puckered ones with… Damn it to hell, how does Scribe know they weren’t p…
Well, you know what YOS means.
Maybe.
Less missed balls, less sand traps, less visits to the hospital: both for the Pres and those within 100 miles of his stroke, stroke, stroke… more material for an aging Chevy Chase.
What the hell is Gerald’s comedic double doing these days, anyway? Drinking too much and then sounding like one of his more popular roles, “Fletch, fletch, fletch?”
(OK, Scribe admits that was a long way to go for such a RETCH… ed joke.)
Who is going to clean that up now?
Not Scribe…
Richard Nixon… run the strings from tin can “spy on us all for political gain” system the administration is so proud of through what’s left of his head: using him as a support. He supported it before, why not in the afterlife? Break in to Democratic computers like Hunt and Libby broke into Watergate for political gain. Wait, they already did that. Bet the reason nothing really happened and it didn’t seep up to the top is they blessed themselves in DICK’S name before they did it. What does a satanic blessing sound like these days anyway? Bet Junior knows all too well.
Lyndon Johnson… name all toilet factories in his name. Play a tape for all the public to hear outside of such factories of Johnson and his toilet-based language. Start reporting all the dead, every night, in Iraq. Really, the assholes in the MSM should be doing that anyway instead of porking Junior on a nightly basis.
Abe Lincoln… tie him to the front of your Ford then drive through an old bathroom and a ticket counter at an abandoned drive in theater. Now you can say you faced off both a John, a Booth, in a Ford, at a theater and didn’t get assassinated. He may have won the Civil War and, far worse, more difficult, lived with Mary Todd Lincoln… but shot in the dark by a mediocre actor? Lincoln was a pussy. At least he should have held out for the far more talented, and unfairly saddled with his brother’s criminal act, Edwin.
Roosevelt, Franklin… Scribe saw a bit on SNL many years ago… a pig was used to replace a blind man’s dog. Scribe thinks maybe that bit could be done again, only with a wheelchair and…
Roosevelt, Teddy… bucking mechanical bull, corpse tied to it, CD on repeat with Teddy saying, “Bully! Bully!”
Junior and Biggus Dickus… Mount Rushmore. Redirect a river. Form a stone penis below the faces. Body in stone toilet. Pissing on the Constitution and our forefathers in life? Payback’s a bitch.
Sorry. Did Scribe hear someone claim they’re not dead yet? No soul. No compassion. Act like they have Terry Schiavo for brains? And only one, cold, unfeeling mechanical heart between the two?
You call that ALIVE?
Sci Fry
This is a two part Scribe because YOS is sure he’s done something like the following before but, what the hell, let’s try to get it right THIS time. The second part of this edition of YOS features slightly toasted and stir fried Sci-based fiction for sleepy readers, so WOK UP FOLKS! The specific burnt offering would be called: Forbidden Planet, Revised
A whole planet is being taken over by a corporate criminal gang, Juniorco.
This is fiction?
So much death and destruction.
A space ship has landed, the U.S. Dem. Scratch that. Actually the ship meandered: powered by an infinite uncertainty drive, always unsure how to respond to anything, except to frequently say, “Yes, I’ll bend over and take another one up the…” …onto the planet and, upon investigation, finds that two residents are the focus of the violence. It’s like they own a freedom stealing bloodbath machine. While the planet has always had some rather horrific violence, intergalactic communications indicate the rise in violence is exponential: to the power of stupidly absurd.
Knowing full well the power of absurd trumps “the force” with plenty of Jeff Gannon like “tricks:” a book and a hundred aces, lotsa queens, minus only one diamond studded Jack Abramamamamama-OFF for a double pinochle… the rather incompetent captains, each one assigned to be captain after a monster Junior refers to as “teh-woe-ism” takes the last one out, attempt to solve this problem… knowing full well that the monster gets most of his true power from Junior’s sick, twisted: with more than a dash of sardonic lemon, ID.
When confronted Junior winks a knowing wink and claims the crew of the USUC Dem don’t support the people’s right to be free of “teh-woe-ism” and a small and ideologically idiotic mob turns on them.
Junior also has kidnapped… and everyone knows it’s DAMN difficult to get a kid… to… nap… Lady Liberty, whom he claims as his own, enslaved, beaten and raped by Junior and is appointees, locked in a dungeon. Attempts to free Lady enrage Junior’s ID. Not a pretty sign, a Supreme lesson one Captain, ironically named “Gore,” learn a long time ago.
It’s a never ending story, made so by Groundhog Day-like repeats of horrors “no one could have predicted,” time loop-like “damn, another f-ing, f-ed up war, while we’re still f-ing up the last two? Didn’t their Mommies ever insist they finish what’s on their plate?” experiences and “oh, no they wouldn’t do THAT” rule of law eliminations… like the one probably coming up REAL soon: just before Junior is SUPPOSED TO leave office.
Damn. The radio clock is blaring Sonny and “I love little boys and pissed on Sonny until I could use his memory to my advantage” Cher… one more time.
Groundhog Day…
AGAIN?