Category: Satire

Eugene Langurson Announces Bid For Presidency

Not intimidated by an already crowded field and hugely daunting odds, Eugene “Bob” Langurson  announced Monday, at the Primate Pavilion at the San Diego Zoo, that he will run for the Republican nomination in the 2020 presidential election.

Three Things To Remember About JEBOOsh

Fool Me Bush

If you really want to feel the BOOsh, you must click it.

 

It’s pretty simple, really; if you don’t remember how the pit of your stomach felt when George H W. Bush, and George W. Bush won their respective nominations and subsequent elections, then maybe you haven’t actually discovered the “pit” in your stomach. It’s an ill-defined region of the lower abdomen, regarded as the visceral repository of strong feelings, especially anxiety.

I know I have one, because whenever I see a political poll showing Jeb Bush leading that ever-proliferating pack of Republican tools, it immediately regurgitates a loop of his little brother, struggling to get through that simple aphorism, and I get the queasies bad.

I realize the head of Trump Entertainment Resorts will continue to blow up the Republican primary process until we are all nauseated. But eventually, one of those clowns will manage to wade through their political slime-fest and onto the convention floor, to accept the nomination.

Although it seems like that event is a long way off, already there have been one or two nanoseconds when the pit of my stomach reminds me— it could happen again— and sends my imagination spinning wild into a future where stupefying things happen: another Bush is handed the presidency by the Supreme Court; more young Americans dying in four, maybe eight more years of senseless oil wars; all manner of social and cultural backwardness, including the complete destruction of the “middle” class; and the depths of political despair. By God. We can’t let that happen. We can’t get fooled again.

BLOWFISH: TRUMP EDITION

In the BLOWFISH interview, Donald Trump didn’t cover any new ground, just the usual scorched earth bravado of recent weeks liberally peppered with the phrase, “I’m tremendously wealthy.”

Uh, NO, This Isn’t “What Don Draper Will Look Like At 80.”


 DON-DRAPER

Seriously?? A little more orange and you have John Boehner, right?

A Mister Tim O’Brien, not from Fort Lee, New Jersey, but president of the Society of Illustrators and the victim of a brief but supposedly clairvoyant snit-fit, says the “troubled” character of Don Draper actually went on to have a “wholesome, fulfilling life.”

Bwwaaahaaaahaaaa!

Sayeth, Timmeh: “I think Don went on to be near his children with his move back to NYC. He learned something out west; that he had people around him who loved him and I think the rest of his life was recognizing that.”

Sadly, no, Tim. Did you even watch the show??

THIS is what the “troubled” character of Don Draper will look like at 60; just forget 80.  This is what Don Draper went on to fulfill: The life of an alcoholic on the street.
Real Don Draper

The “troubled” character of Don Draper, known on the street as, “Madman.”

Sayeth, Terreh: “I think Don went on to be near his drinking bros back in the hobo parks of L.A. Yes, he did learn something out west; that he had people around him there who used him, even as he used them; I think the rest of his life was spent recognizing that, hating it, and them, and eventually drowning in his addictions to alcohol and tobacco, and dying alone under a Maytag refrigerator box at age 62.”

But you’re not off the hook just yet, Timmeh.  Let’s learn a bit about cirrhosis of the liver, the disease that comes on slowly over years of heavy alcohol use.  Early on, there are often no symptoms at all, outside of, you know, the usual cognitive impairment that goes hand in hand with being a drunk.

As the disease really gets going though, you become tired, weak, itchy;  you’ll probably experience swelling in your lower legs; maybe develop an unpleasant shade of yellow skin;  you’ll find yourself bruising easily.  You’ll look in the mirror one day, and discover spider-like blood vessels all over the skin of your nose.  Worse still, you’ll have fluid build up in your abdomen;  the fluid build up may end up producing spontaneous infection.  If you’re lucky, you might avoid bleeding from your dilated esophageal veins.  And the resulting hepatic encephalopathy results in increasing confusion and eventually, unconsciousness.

So yeah, it takes more than a few drinks per day, over a number of years, for cirrhosis to occur.  But hey, that was Don.  He could hang with the best worst of them, and he almost always did.

Then there was Don’s lung cancer.  He was diagnosed at 58, after a protracted hacking fit one morning.  This was right after he realized he was broke, and had no recourse to medical care.  When it rains…  But.  Ninety percent of heavy smokers like Don inevitably find themselves with lung cancer, the most common cause of cancer-related death in men and women world-wide;  it’s responsible for more than a million and a half deaths every year.

Finally, we haven’t even looked into Draper’s more or less constant casual sexual relationships with women, and what that meant to his increasingly stunted soul.  Suffice it to say, all physical poisons greatly retard the efforts of the spirit to exalt the mortal mind.  And then there’s that big bag ‘o mental poisons— fear, anger, envy, jealousy— suspicion, hate, intolerance— these likewise tremendously interfere with the spiritual progress of the evolving mortal soul.

So NO.  Don Draper did not suddenly decide to live a “wholesome, fulfilling life.” Like so many other disillusioned, poisoned souls, he drank himself to death.

May he rest in peace.

Meet The New Clowns, Same As The Old Clowns

A Garrulous Guide To The 2016 Republican Presidential Trainwreck

BUTTS ON THE GROUND

Bhoener ButtsYeah that’s McConnell and yeah he’s dead, and Putterer of the House, Boner Boehner, reeks the Press.

WASHINGTON—   House Putterer John Boehner (R-OH.M.G.) was ragging to the press earlier today about President Barack Obama’s strategy against ISIS, saying “butts on the ground” would be needed, because, well, that’s just how “we roll.”  He was reluctant to say just whose butts he intends to roll into harm’s way.

“At the end of the day, uh, I think it’s gonna take more than, uh, airstrikes and billions of dollars to drive them outta there,” Boehner said.  “At some point, somebody’s spawn has gotta get their butts blown off.”

Reporter Mal Aprop of BSN asked if that meant American butts.

“Listen, the president doesn’t want to do that, because he doesn’t have the stomach for killing, no matter what the reason.  But if I were the president, I probably wouldn’t have talked about what I wouldn’t do, or, uh, you know, what I might do.  Or even what I would do do.   But where I come from, War always means butts on the ground, so somebody’s butts have to be there.”

“So you would recommend putting American butts on the ground, then?” asked Aprop.

“We have no choice,” Boehner sobbed, dabbing away tears.  “These are Conan-like barbarians.   They said they wanna kill us.  So unless we all just wanna lay down and die, we’re gonna hafta pay the price and, uh.. send some more of your children’s butts over there to die.”