Wednesday, May 11, 2016

America...I'm this Bud for You

 Update: Anheuser-Busch recently confirmed it will change the name of its Budweiser 12-oz. cans and bottles with the name "America" from May 23 through election season in November. 

This Bud/America's for you. So starting today I'm changing my name to "AMERICA" too. You can call me America, or Lawrence America. I'll respond to either name, as long as I hear the American part. My new label will run from now thru the day after the presidential election. If Trump wins, I'm then changing my label to Lawrence Canada, or just plain Canada. 

Sunday, May 1, 2016

Feeding the Angry Man

Feeding the Angry Man

Political correctness has been the whipping-boy issue of the far-right wing for many years. No one touts aversion to PC behavior more than Donald Trump, in large part basing his presidential run on mocking all things politically correct. Expressing politically incorrect statements and views has become the defining standard of what I call the new Angry Man movement. (I use the term "man" because Trumping appeals more to men than women, although there are of course, though fewer, Angry Women too!)

This backlash against political correctness, although not new and has been percolating for years, has now erupted volcanically, given heat from the steaming bowels of Trump who belches more vitriol than an OxyContin-infused radio talk show host (talkin' bout you, Flush Phlegmball!)

But it's not all Donald's fault. Recently political correctness has been it own worst enemy. He's only taking advantage of some high profile examples of PC goofiness and unleashing festering grievances left over from the self-perceived left-behind.

Trump is the wind (bag) beneath the wings of the angry. Seething silent anger just below the surface of civility, these Angry Men have had to keep their feelings in check for decades, every day a lost day that brought them closer to inexorable defeat in the lingering culture war of the Sixties. Yes, the Sixties Culture War rages on in the shallow cranial recesses of the religious right, Nixon's old law & order hard hats, the "silent majority" and their "poorly-educated" progeny still offended by anti-Vietnam protests, "free love," a casual embrace of drugs, and civil rights victories. ("I love the poorly educated," Trump declared after his Nevada primary victory last February.)

Now comes Trump, loud and brash, like a constipated cow suddenly effluent from gorging in a field of rotting beans. Trump's emissions, sulfurically foul, are whiffs of lilac and roses to the noses of his Angries. Finally, someone who is not afraid to say out loud what they've been longing to say forever. Not just someone, but a someone who could hold the highest office in the land. A someone who could make the White House the white house again. (Well, maybe the gold-plated White House?) And his calling card? Attack political correctness. A task which liberals today sometimes aid and abet. From trigger warnings and safe space demands of sensitive babyfied college students to accusations of "cultural appropriation" by minorities, political correctness is fast becoming a favorite pick up line for the right wing. College students who demand a trigger warning that a reading assignment or lecture might contain something offensive to their sheltered little minds forget the reason they are in college in the first expand their minds, be exposed to different ideas: to become educated. Is it really cultural appropriation when a white student is shamed by Black students for wearing dreadlocks? What about a Black student who bleaches her hair blond? (Note: I'm willing to be schooled on this issue from another point of view) Of course political correctness is not really "running amok" as so many pundits and columnists seem be declaring and warning. But egregious examples, amplified by media, social and traditional, feed into the meme/trope that we've gone too far, that we are too sensitive, need to lighten-up, quit worrying about offending everyone (except we whites in power) and just enjoy life. Yeah, make America great again, like before civil and voting rights, environmental regulations, Medicare, Social Security, child labor laws, food safety laws. Those were the days my friends...we thought they'd never end...

More like this and not like this at:

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

I Want Self-Zippering Pants!

 I've waited all my miserable life for this. When I was a kid, my Dad said I'd have a flying car in my garage on Mars.  Never happened, Dad. (Thanks a lot, Obama!) 3-D TV? Sort of, but not really happening. Robot hoovers sucking up dust by dancing the roomba around the house? Boring. Self-cleaning ovens? Old school. Self-photo-taking? Yup, The Selfie fulfilled that dream. Self-driving cars? Oh, yeah! Almost there and just in time for aging Boomers who dread being on the pitiful end of "The Talk" when their kids explain that, no, Mom, you didn't misplace your car keys..we've taken them and are prying your almost dead cold hands from around the steering wheel. Autonomous cars will allow Boomers to rule the road until the day they never die.

But when Nike recently announced its new Self-tying shoe I knew the future had finally arrived. It's called “adaptive lacing.”  Press buttons on the side of the shoe and the laces automatically tighten or loosen to match your comfort level or mood: uptight, nervous, or afraid? Just press the tighten button. Feeling groovy, marinatingly mellow or banging? Just press the loose button. No muss no fuss. Only down side is you gotta bend down to press the mofcukin' buttons! Com'on Nike, where's the remote? Or app that'll let me tight&loose by tapping on my Fitbit or Apple Watch. See, the Damn Future is always just around the Damn Corner.

So here I am, in the present here and now, mindful of the moment, which is very popular these days. But still waiting for, as Apple used to say, "The Next Big Thing" ...until Trump settled that argument. So I guess until I get my Self-Zippering pants, I'm just a lonely guy on the Avenue of Ass-kicking Dreams with his fly stuck open...or shut. (Hmmmm...autonomous socks that roll up automatically?)

L.Rudmann (

Monday, February 8, 2016

Super Bowl: Over & Out

I'm so over Super Bowl commercials. And for that matter the Super Bowl itself, that national corporate sports orgy for the One Percent paid for by the tax-paying gullible proletariat who "like to watch" the gladiators while the rulers "play" from their skyboxes. Yes, a distraction from work, from ills, from the daily drone of life, The Super Bowl offers a temporary reprieve and escape. 

After only 50 years The Super Bowl has established itself as a bedrock symbol of our culture. We accept its ubiquitous residency in our lives, finely woven like a 1,000 thread-count flag blowing across the face our national psyche. From the opening mock patriotic military salutes, mawkish contestant renditions of a song celebrating bombs and war ... Vegas odds on how long will Lady GaGa stretch out the last notes to break the record for longest public singing of this national anthem...military jets swooping like mad screaming birds of prey over the stadium; extravagant intermission displays of pop(ular) music...spectacles on par with anything produced by Chinese or North Korean governments. A synchronized national corporate effort to appeal to the masses, slake our thirst for violence with highly paid yet expendable surrogates, to inspire us to aspire, to consume, to eat more Cheetos. The athletic efforts on the field merely a pretense for the 30 sec commercial propaganda spots imploring us to spend our wages to enrich those wise men in their high skybox castles. 

And let's dismiss with the conceit that at least these commercial productions represent high art, or are at a minimum creative, original, humorous or inspiring. Once upon a time Apple produced a commercial ("1984") to introduce the MacIntosh computer. This was the first and last truly creative effort shown during a Super Bowl game. This commercial set the standard, propagated and set in motion the deluded cult of the Super Bowl Commercials. What we are subjected to now are watered-down attempts at humor often exploiting children and animals. This year one advertiser actually hit the sweet spot of commercial crassness with a creature comprised of a baby, a monkey and a dog. A puppy. Awwww..horses, awwww...guys acting the fool while wifey rolls her eyes and shows him how it's really done. People dancing. If the proverbial aliens picked up signals of these commercials they would think that all humans do is dance. Well, we also get constipation, diarrhea and toenail fungus on the bungus.. but that's another matter. 

Ah, Super Bowl, I am so over you. At least until next year when the half time show features our national Poet Laureate in a "Salute to American Poetry." And of course the Chicago Bears beat the Oakland Raiders.  

(read more like this and not like this at my blog:

Thursday, January 21, 2016

Cruz Conundrum

That women get judged on their looks and appearance more than men is a given. It's not right to judge a person by one's visceral reaction to appearance, demeanor and other subjectives such as voice, height, hair style, eyes and the  overall qualities that comprise what we generally consider as "looks." I know it's not right. Yet why do I have such a strong visceral (from "viscera"....intestines, bowels, gut; from instinct rather than intellect) negative reaction to Ted Cruz, the smarmy (totally subjective, sorry) candidate for the republican presidential nomination? His high-pitched voice perfects onomatopoeically the whine of a dentist drill with all its associated shudder and vagus-nerve inducing nausea and clammy coldness. His hunched shoulders and thrusting head produces a badgering mien threatening to cower his audience into submission. Behind a podium, he leans his skewed mis-aligned angley face downward doggedly in sarcastic towering arrogance belying his 5ft-7inch stature and with deft yet programmed hands gestures robotically in sync with sad disapproving basset hound-of-hell eyes casting damnation on all who fail to heed his admonitions. This is Ted Cruz. The slick pompadour hair harkens to a past era, a carnival barker, a Fuller Brush salesman? Under stage lights his skin reflects a pallid smeary corpse-like patina, waxen. 
The curled upper lip snarls and scolds disdainfully giving purchase to a poisonous pedantic piety from a Puritan pursed mouth proclaiming peevish punishment for all who disagree. 
And yet I question my intense reactions to Mr. Cruz's physicalities. It's not that he has, according to current standards of what constitutes beauty/attractiveness, an "ugly" countenance. But there is some intangible aggregate of his overall appearance and how he wears and utilizes these physical attributes that sends up warning signs. Empty this sack full of pain and fill it with the heart and soul of Bernie Sanders. How would I react?  Bernie has a rough and worn appearance that may cause cringing, weeping and gnashing of teeth in those who disagree with him. But it seems that beyond Cruz's stated policies, his proclaimed beliefs, his political philosophy there lies something uncomfortable, dark and on the threshold of....evil? I know it's not right to judge him on how he looks. But could this visage be a mirror of his soul or spirit, his very essence and intended purpose on earth? I don't know. But what I do know is this person scares me. To the point where I have to admit that given a choice between Mr. Cruz and Donald Trump (please gods, spare us from such a choice) I would have to choose Trump. Cruz, I admit, is smart, very smart and probably the best diabolical debater among all candidates. He has a plan, and is executing it demonically. Be afraid. Very afraid, something tells me. 

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

2015 - A Year of Living Fearfully©

2015 - A Year of Living Fearfully©

We got it quick, 
We got it now
Here a click 
There a click
We got it how?
Here a pick there a pick
In the Amazon pits
Bot Boys & Gig Girls
Ubering this and 
Ubering that
Working harder than 
The Pizza Rat.

So buy me a beer
And quench my fear
an IPA with a wise-ass label
"Bangin’Your Sister" or "Murdering Mabel."
If you're socially able
Pour me that hoppy Alcohol tincture
An artesinal brew called "Clinching Sphincters."

My fear is palpable
That my order calculable 
Isn't Pay-Pal-able
Delivered prime by the ISISman cometh
Venomous sous la table
With Hillary in a Muslim Hijibber
Jihaddin' the penis off Justine Bieber.

My fears were real
As John Boehner tears
As true as Caitlyn's 
Not a male
And Canadian poutine 
Is the new kale.

Even my fears 
Were afraid and scared
Laid bare by Obamacare
To heal us with medical P.O.T.U.S.
Put on notice 
By The F.L.O.T.U.S.
That our health insurance wouldn’t be valid
Unless we ate all our Kardashian placenta salad.

Throughout the year anxiety riding
On a jittery third rail guiding
Us on a dangerous journey
Suicide crusading avengers
Vowed to see us 
On a gurney. 
Look to the left, to the right
Feel the panic
An error of terror
Islamic as well 
As Christianic.

Change was loosed
Upon the Land
Transgendered, rendered, re-assigned
Maligned for being 

But all was ducky and we got lucky
The Pope fell for a lady from Kentucky
Blessing her multiple-partner unions
Wagging the Papal Celibate digit Proclaiming illicit
Same-sex communions.

Disappointment was a fave
Jay-Z's TIDAL never waved.
Apple Set A Watch, man
Few raved.
Harper Lee unwound her clock
Her second first novel failed to ticktock
As the mockingbird's old man
Joined the klan
That many saw as problematicus
The most popular Republican baby name 
Now happens to be, yup... Little Atticus.
The Status Quo
Did not Grow
We still hatin'on drunkened Russians
Still lovin' on football concussions 
Predictable as shoot-first cops
Or Taylor Swift in short crop-tops.

Madman Don the Dandy Draper
Taught the World to Sing Carnally (no predictable doggerel rhyme)
In perfect harmony
With Kendrick Lamarr-money
Pimpin' that poor butterfly's wings
Inside Amy Schumer's randy pants
There's ample room 
For Drake to dance.

Backs to the Wall
Fed raisin' rates
Drug Lord Shkreli
Scored world berates
Courteously flushed 
But the room’s still smelly.

Transgendering took the runway spot
Estrogened and testosteroned
Accepted respected and now condoned
By all except the chromosomes.

Guns still have us in their sights 
Open carry in the bars 
And church
Trolled by NRA sycophants,
But in the morgue room 
Stands the elephant,
Minions of Murder 
Foul beasts lurch
And then they slouch
Toward Deathlahem.

ISIS, ISIL, Houthis, Shabbab
Promise to bury us
It’s their job
Is it fear or imaginary
Or are we already buried 
In our mobile screens
Our virtual cemetaries.

The local police dressed 
To be seen 
As combat-ready armed Marines
Drowned out voices 
With on-the-ground boots
The cries of hands-up-don’t-shoot
And cause to shatter
The Dream 
That Black Lives 
Really do matter.

Next Year 
Don't let your ears fill with fears
Of Islamaphobic political Smears
Humpty Trumpty
Will have a great fall
From his “big & beautiful” Xenophobic wall

And surety like taxes and and like death
To misquote MacBeth
"All our yesterdays have (dim) lighted fools
The way to dusty death, Out, out, brief candle (of darkness)
(Your)Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage
and then is heard no more. 
It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing."

So buy me a beer
And quench my fear
an IPA with a wise-ass label
"Bangin’ Your Sister" or "Murdering Mabel."
If you're socially able
Pour me that hoppy 
Alcohol tincture
An Artesinal brew 
Called "Clinching Sphincters."

(P.S.. Jon Snow is really dead. Thanks a lot, Obama!)

Happiness not Fear in the 2016 New Year.


Sunday, December 6, 2015

Pass the "No Guns Left Behind in Hands of Civilians Act".

Enough is enough! 
Here's what we need: 
Don't control guns, ban them.

Presidential/Executive "Re-interpretation" of the Second Amendment concomitant with enactment by Congress or Presidential Fiat of the "No Guns Left Behind in Hands of Civilians Act" also to be known as the "No Right to Own Guns Act."

The manufacture, import and sale of firearms and ammunition for non-military in the U. S. and its territories will be banned. 

Phase One: A Federal ban on the civilian purchase of any firearm. This means hand guns, assault rifles, shotguns, hunting rifles, target/sport firearms. Also BB guns and similar varmint-hunting guns such as pellet guns, potato "spud" guns and all NERF-type projectile-emitting gun facsimiles. (BB/pellet and NERF-type guns are "gateway weapons" that lead to future desire/addiction to possess and use bullet-based firearms). Violation of the "No Gun Left Behind Act" is a zero tolerance, "one strike you are out" violation resulting In a minimum income-based fine of $20,000 and up. Inability or refusal  to pay the fine shall result in a minimum one year sentence to a firearm practice ranch for Federal Agents as a live target decoy. (Sentence commuted after one year if prisoner survives)

Phase Two: The President shall order all citizens to turn in to Federal Authorities any and all firearms they own or possess. Firearm owners complying will be compensated for the price that they paid for the firearm(s). Refusal to comply will result in fines and imprisonment. 

Phase Three: The National Guard, branches of the US military forces, Federal policing agents including the FBI, will conduct house-to-house inspections nationally for the purpose of confiscation of firearms. Non-compliance will result in imprisonment of head of household. 

Phase Four: local police will be required to "Stop & Frisk" suspected gun carriers at any time or place. Citizens will also be rewarded with cash bonuses for alerting police or Federal authorities to anyone who they suspect possessing a firearm. 

Hunters and firearm sport enthusiasts will be able to rent approved firearms from the federal government for limited use. Firearm renters shall have proper gun user insurance.  

Traditional firearm-based hunters who choose not to rent firearms will be provided with federal training in bow & arrow, knife and persistence hunting (stalking and chasing game on foot until animal is caught). 

Black market distribution of firearms will be controlled by Revenueurs a special elite strike force of Federal and civilian under- cover swat specialists. Funding for national firearm prohibition will be diverted from state, local and Federal drug enforcement since passage of the "Freedom to Purchase & Use Any Drug Act" Americans will be able to purchase and use any drug legally.

This should be considered only the first steps in freeing our country of the curse of firearms. Once these actions are enacted then America should really get serious about banning guns.

Thursday, December 3, 2015

What's Left for Trump to Say?

He's called Mexicans rapists, drug addicts and criminals, promises to build a "big, beautiful wall" around America to keep out undocumented migrants, blamed tough media questions on a reporter's monthly period. He calls people he disagrees with fat, idiot, stupid, morons. Claims President Obama's birth certificate is false. Says Ariana Huffington and Carly Fiorino are ugly. Said you can't beat ISIS if you sweat too much and that if Hillary can't satisfy her husband how is she going to satisfy America. He says global warming is a hoax. “Black guys counting my money! I hate it. The only kind of people I want counting my money are short guys that wear yarmulkes every day.”  "I have a great relationship with the blacks." "I've said if Ivanka weren't my daughter, perhaps I'd be dating her." "You know, it doesn't really matter what [the media] write as long as you've got a young and beautiful piece of ass." "Often times when I was sleeping with one of the top women in the world, I would say to myself, thinking about me as a boy from Queens, "Can you believe what I am getting?" “Heidi Klum (supermodel). Sadly, she’s no longer a 10." Oh, yes...Trump also says he absolutely saw TV footage of 1000s of Muslims in New Jersey celebrating on 9-11. And yep, recently Trump mocked a disabled New York Times reporter by imitating his body movements. Whew....I'm out of breath and energy digging up these Trumprageous comments. Let's go to future tape. 

So. What's left for Trump to say? Who and what hasn't he railed against and insulted. Here are a few insults waiting in the hopper, predictions of what he still might say that will inexplicably increase his poll ratings. 

On The Pope. "Yeah, Francis, Frankie, he's a fat old geezer. A real loser. Just look at that belly. Not even Rosie O'Donnell would get on her knees for him."

Native Americans: "These so-called noble savages don't even know how to run a casino like me...give'em a few shots of liquor and they'll end up scalping themselves instead of their customers."

Automobiles: "Basically just pieces of junk.. I don't know why people buy them...the best mode of transportation is a limo and a private jet. And I've got the best private limos and jets at my disposal." 

The late Mother Theresa: "She was an ugly skinny old hag. So over-rated, that one.. No one tends to the poor better than me..believe me...when I'm President the poor will be tended too so much they'll get tired of it!! They'll say "Stop it Mr. Trump, no more tending.. !" 

Refrigerators: what's this all about anyway? Keeping food cold? I like my food hot and served to me in one of my 5-Star restaurants..I've got Mexicans, Filipinos, Orientals to cook it..who needs a refrigerator..or a stove! Losers and morons, that's who! "

Smart phones: Believe me.. the iPhone and those Korean phonies are total losers...for the life of me I can't figure out why people buy these things..I've got the best phone, a MeTrump phone..solid gold with diamond keys. Made exclusively for me by the best people."

Milk: Never drink it! Never drink anything that comes out of a cow's tit. Can you imagine? This cow's laying around in its own dung eating weeds and stuff and this is what makes milk? I drink only the best milk...beautiful young virgin milk from world class virgins. And I know virgins."

Apple Pie: who would eat that crap? I'll tell you! Losers! Morons! I only eat the top shelf pie...Trumpie: made with the best stuff you ever tasted.. baked by the best people who know how to bake the best.. And believe me I know the best! 

Motherhood: you ever hear me talk about my mother? No! Motherhood is for idiots! Who needs'em! That's all I'm gonna say on that subject... don't get me started. 

Navy Seals: what's up with that name anyway? A seal? Who wants to be a seal, flapping and honking on a chunk of ice all day long? These guys are so over-rated...all that training they need. So they shot Bin Laden? I like guys who didn't shoot bin Laden...who know...just bombs the crap outta the Osamas. I know how to bomb people. No one bombs better than me, trust me!" 

Yes, trust him sooner or later to say all the above, and worse. And rise in the polls. 
God Bless & Save America. 

Read more like this and not like this at my blog:

Friday, November 27, 2015


Each year we are treated to new album releases by assorted artists - popular and has-been - rendering their versions of Christmas and Holiday carols. One of my favorites is Bob Dylan's "Xmas in the Heart" in which he croons, gristles, groans and chews up holiday traditionals such as "O Come All Ye Faithful" and "Silent Night." It's quite a feat and for me at least a real Christmas treat. Another seasonal favo is "Just Say Noël," which includes my special holiday favo by "Sonic Youth, "Santa Doesn't Cop Out on Dope," and "Millie Pulled a Pistol on Santa" by The Roots. "Jingle All the Way" by Crash Test Dummies is also a heart & hearth-warming collection of holiday  sentimentals. 

So this year I would love to see and hear some new offerings such as: 

Bill Maher's "An Atheist's Xmas" on which he sings "God Rest Ye Merry marriage is finally legal." And "While Shepherds Watched...Yeah they like to watch" would be on my iTunes Xmas playlist. 

Bill Clinton's "Xmas with a Boner" including his just released hit song, "Joseph did not have sex with that Woman" and of course his saxophone rendition of "BlueXmas" would enlarge his legacy. 

Donald Trump's "The Biggest Best & Hugest Xmas" featuring his holiday hit, "No One Does Xmas Better Than Me," and "Trump Pumpa Trump Trumps the Little Immigrant Boy" and "Away.. (far far away from America,) In a Manger" could push him even higher in the polls. 

Bernie Sanders'  "Have Yourself a Communal Little Socialist Xmas" featuring "Rudolph the Red Commie Reindeer" would be a favo of mine. 

Hillary's Xmas Dishes album includes her never-before released and destined-to-become-a-seasonal classic, "Bill's Nuts Roasting on an Open Fire" would be a family hit in my household. 

And speaking of open fire, the Chicago Police Department Xmas Choir gets us into the spirit of the season with the hauntingly  moving "Oh come on keep mum Rahm Emmanuel," segueing to a celebratory "Silent Nights & Silent Days helps Good King Winsalot of elections." 

Merry Xhristmas y'all. 
 Read more like this and not like this at my blog.

Saturday, November 21, 2015

Of ISIS and Men

I suppose it's natural to be somewhat unsettled and unsure of how to react beyond shock, horror and sadness about the recent terrorist/Islamic/ISIS/ISIL/Daesh attacks in Paris. Special interest organizations, public figures, politicians and media pundits wasted little time and very little serious thought before spouting bigoted and caustic invective in the name of defending America from the kind of carnage inflicted in Paris.  Political was-been Newt Gringrich lanced his poisonous pus-filled heart by tweeting that if Parisian concert victims had been armed they could have survived. I'm sure he's already cashed his check from the NRA. From there it got worse. Donald Trump agitated anew to build that "big beautiful wall" and to register all Muslims in the U.S. (Maybe tattoo them, too, Donald?) and Jeb! Bush tried trumping Trump by saying only Christian refugees should be admitted. (ISIS terrorists in Mali yesterday made hostages recite lines from the Quran to prove they are Muslim.. sounds like they got that idea from Jeb!) And predictably Republican governors said no to new Syrian refugees in their states. Of course House Speaker Paul Ryan pushed thru a bill stopping any Syrian refugees from entering the U.S. And oh yes, leading Presidential candidate Ben Carson called Syrian widows and child refugees "rabid dogs." Not even France displayed that kind of xenophobia announcing that despite the terrorist attacks it would still compassionately welcome 30,000 new Syrian refugees.

Paraphrasing a friend, Republican pussy-wingers are a million times more likely to be killed at a Walmart Black Friday stampede than killed by a Syrian refugee. (Another friend joked a solution to the ISIS crisis...just give them a country and then nukem. haha)

But, as they say, I digress. The agony is in the question that haunts the dark mental and spiritual halls of anyone who still has a flexible and well-toned brain opened to learning, admitting bias, able to cortically correct and see dimensionally rather than the multitudes of Americans with calcified hearts and minds whose first and only reaction is to act on animal instinct of bite first when threatened.

But even the rational thinking mind is challenged when confronted by a force so nihilistic and savage as the terrorist  Islamic fundamentalists armed with blind faith of revenge and retribution on those who do not share or who disrespect the teachings of the Prophet Muhammad. I hear the pleas of pundits, politicians, religious leaders, Muslims themselves, to avoid branding all Muslims as terrorists. Of course not all Muslims are terrorists. But here we have a virulent strain of the Islamic faith. Does the Quran (Koran) invoke and promote violence any more than the Bible? Obviously I'm not a Biblical nor Quranic scholar and can only reply on other experts for answers.
Here's a little quiz. Which quote is from the Bible and which is from the Quran?

Now therefore, kill every male among the little ones, and kill every woman who has known man intimately. But all the girls who have not known man intimately, spare for yourselves. (Answer: Bible, Numbers 31:17-1 )

Fight and slay the Pagans wherever ye find them: seize them, beleaguer them, and lie in wait for them in every stratagem (of war)."  (Answer: Quran, 9:5)

You get the point.. Read more at Is Quran more violent than bible:

The difference seems to lie in the fact that Christianity focuses its faith more toward the New (kinder&Jesus-friendly) Testament whereas this death cult of ISIS seizes upon the approximately 100 violence-supported passages out of about 6,000 non violent passages of the Quran.

Let's hope we don't see an offshoot Christian militant group (CRISIS.. Christian Religion Is Slaying Islam Sinners?) inspired by Biblical excerpts such as :

Make ready to slaughter the infidel’s sons for the guilt of their fathers; Lest they rise and possess the earth, and fill the breadth of the world with tyrants. (Isaiah 14:21)
Then I heard God say to the other men, "Follow him through the city and kill everyone whose forehead is not marked. Show no mercy; have no pity! Kill them all – old and young, girls and women and little children.” (Ezekiel 9:5)

Both the Bible and the Quran contain exhortations to kill and maim. Although the death cult of ISIS seems to spread like a plague, is the cure really declarations of war, American boots on the ground, or building walls or creating Muslim refugee concentration camps? Or do such responses fulfill the objectives of ISIS death seekers and draw in more recruits? The more I think about all this the more I like to imagine John Lennon's lyric, a world with no religion. And this from Robert Burns: "The best laid schemes of mice and men / Often go awry."

Read more like this and not like this at my blog:

Thursday, October 1, 2015

One woman and one Pope.. just how Jesus wanted it..

Will Pope Francis abdicate the Papal Throne to be with Kim Davis? Rumors, just rumors say Vatican spokespriests in response to rumored rumors that the Pope has succumbed to the fleshy fruits of Morehead KY county clerk and sex goddess Kim Davis. 

"Although I'm the Pope I'm still a man...who among men could resist the siren song of this Kim Davis?" Pope Francis supposedly whispered to an aide in an overheard unsubstantiated conversation on the Papal flight back to Rome. 

If true, this would be Mrs. Davis' first seduction of a Roman Catholic Pope. "I've had lots of pastors, reverends and a deacon or two," Mrs. Davis supposedly said, "but Lord Almighty I never imagined a real live Pope...hee haw and whoopie doo." 

Mrs. Davis reportedly told reporters she and Francis were brought together by Jesus and Tinder. "I was just doing some plain old Tindering in the fields of the Lord and wouldn't you know it up popped the Pope so I quick-as-a-lump-of-lard-on-a-pile-of-grits Swiped Right...and heavens to holy matrimony next thang I see on my Google Android phone is a match made in woman and one Pope.. just how Jesus wanted it", she might have added.

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Random Ejaculations: (n. an abrupt, exclamatory utterance)

Oxymoron of the year: Clean Diesel

At their secret meeting last week did Kim Davis bend over backwards to kiss Pope Frank's "ring."    

Hillary's campaign for president is beginning to be like that giant flower people lined up to see.. You know the one.. The Titan arum...or corpse flower.. It takes years to bloom and then smells like a rotting corpse. The smell is aimed at attracting pollinators (contributors) that help it reproduce.

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Bernie's The One

"From each according to his ability, to each according to his need. " ..slogan popularized by Karl Marx

"From each according to his whatever, to each according to his wants." American slogan. 

Bernie, we hardly know ye. Present tense, thank you Sir. You are the anti-Hillary. The anti-any Republican. In a beauty hair pageant with Donald Trump you would win the mane event while Donald would coiff up hair balls. In a debate with Jeb! Bush you'd excoriate his exclamation point to the point of pointlessness. You'd drink Hillary under & over her email server, surgically excise Ben Carson's brainless Islamaphobia; pour a thicker Kwickee Mart slurpee than Bobby Jindal, stop more traffic than Chris Crispee, sell more used cars than Scott Walker, outgun god in a gravy bowl of Huckabee grits; out-liber-randy Rand Paul, drink more water than Marco Rubio; shout crazy shit louder than Ted Cruz; dress down Carly Fiorina better than Trump. Sell more $8,000 a gallon HP ink than Carly Fiorina. 

Yes, can beat down any of those Repooblikan clowns in a one-on-one or group MMA smack down. There's only one problemo. Bernie. You won't be elected President. Damnit Bernie, when Nixon ran against Hubert H. in 1968 I was so disgusted I wrote-in commie party Gus Hall on my absentee college ballot. Gus didn't win. The New Nixon was The One and Hubert wasn't Bobby Kennedy or Gene McCarthy. And now Bernie, it's your turn to hoist the red leftist rag and wave it in the face of red-necked America. You say you are not a socialist. You say you are a Democratic Socialist, one who seeks reform, not Revolution, thru the Democratic process (not revolution). All good and true. (Damnit where's the Revolution?) Except many Americans have no sense of subtlety, no defining ability to differentiate. It's black or it's white; Good or Bad; Socialist or Commie; Government bad -Corporations (capitalism) good. 
With your socialist name tag you won't mix well in that national November cocktail election party. So that's why I have a 10 Point Plan to make you more palatable, lovable and maybe even so votable you could become our next President. 

1. If you are accused of being a socialist say hell yes that you use social media a lot, like Facebook and Instagram. 
2. Trump up your hair. Add some color--rusty red would look good. Get coiffed. That wispy curly white stuff blowing nimbus-like around your crown looks old. Like grandpa old. 
3. Say some real crazy shit.. Quit talking about policies, leadership and the future. Just say things like...make America #1 again. Americans like the number 1. One is better than two, right? Unless it's beer or a double cheezewizz bacon burger and fries. 
4. Get a kitten and a puppy...carry them around in a basket while campaigning. Name one Stars and the other Stripes. Encourage folks to take selfies with them. 
5. Talk about how you are going to get America to stop fighting each other like cats and dogs and to share the basket like Stars and Stripes. Adorable. 
6. Incorporate the word "adorable" in your speech as often as possible. 
7. Wear a very large flag pin at all times. 
8. Be the Lone Ranger. Talk about the past. The good old days. Arrive at campaign stops on a fiery steed, a cloud of dust and a faithful Hispanic companion, Jose. Return with us now, America, to those thrilling days of yesteryear to fight for law and order. 
9. Always carry a Bible in your pocket. And a copy of the Constitution. The two go together like a kitten and a puppy in a basket. 
10. Just be yourself. Or not.

Sunday, August 30, 2015

Can't We All Just...kill each other.

We Need new divisive social issues to keep us divided. Now that the Supreme Court has settled gay marriage, transgendering is transparent, marihuana is mainstream and even issues like abortion, prayer in school, gun control, climate change -- the old GGGG... god, guns, gays & grizzlies, are so last-decade. 

To feed the cultural war machine I suggest we reprise some select explosive issues from yesteryear. Here are my suggestions for some issues guaranteed to set us on edge and make us go at each other's throats with mouth-slaughtering vehemence: 

Earth shoes vs. Birkenstocks
The shoes had thick soles in the front and thin heels. (Think reverse mullet) Wearing them was supposed to be like walking on the beach. I got married in a pair over my mother's protestations. "I'll be married & buried in my earth shoes," I declared. The Earthshoe was marketed as a "wellness" shoe, wearing them physically challenged you. Birkenstocks were all about comfort. True hippies wore neither. Barefoot was de rigueur. Both brands are still sold. Birks are better known but Earths still walk the land.  Have a fit. 

Quiche... Do real men eat it? Who knew what "quiche" really meant back in the 70's, but whatever it was prompted much discussion with men and women arguing for and against. Hint: Hot dish for women. 

God is Dead... Or not? The now famous and then infamous 1966 Time Magazine cover posited Friedrich Nietzsche's "God is Dead" postulate exploring the role of God in an increasingly secular society.  Social media then was limited to church pulpits and bar rooms. Nasty times. 

Television: A Wasteland? Although now we're supposedly in the "golden age" of TV in 1961 a big divisive debate was ignited by FCC Commissioner Newton Minnow who in a speech to TV executives referred to TV as a "vast wasteland" in need of reform, namely more public service programming. People chose sides. Duck. 

Equal Rights Amendment (ERA) First introduced in the 1920s, this proposed constitutional amendment was a polarizing issue in the 1970's and early 80's among feminists, liberals and conservatives. Conservative anti-feminist activist Phyllis Schlafly successfully campaigned against it warning that passage would mean the end of alimony, create unisex bathrooms and cause women to be drafted and throw away their bras. Good Times for Demagogues. 

Vietnam.... in it to win it? This unwinnable excursion into another country's civil war was the launchpad for the cultural wars still raging today. No lessons learned here. 

Is Twiggy too thin? Skinny British model Twiggy, creator of the androgynous modeling look was the hot topic of debate in the mid-Sixties. Too thin? Too flat-chested, hair too short, boy-like. Ah, Twiggy... We need you now to twerk and kiss Miley Cyrus. 

Communism - the Red Threat. Those godless pinkos wanted to bury us in the 1950-60 Cold War days. Now it's those god-loving theocratic terrorists ISIS we are trying to make WASWAS. McCarthyism made you suspect your neighbor of plotting to turn your backyard patio into a people's garden. Be Afraid. 

Disco, hippies, yuppies....all these and others sparked feuds, controversy and contentiousness. Let's take a break from the GGGGs and have some real fun.

Monday, August 24, 2015

VompuSucus photo...Michigan Beast!

In flagrante delicto... At last caught in the act... The elusive Michigan VompuSucus (Latin: sphincterclinchtus horriblis). I photographed this rarest of beasts up against a hillside hemlock tree at my Michigan cottage on a recent early morning. Only a few sightings of this beast have ever been witnessed. Native American legend says the VompuSucus has few if any predators and is known as the sworn enemy of the wolverine. It has been known to creep through dune grass at night and work its way silently thru spreading myrtle to pounce on unsuspecting victims. When not feasting on the internal organs of its victims "Vompy" will chow down on hosta  plants.

Saturday, August 22, 2015

On Day One....first day in office..

On Day One....first day in office.. 
What WILL they do.....

A common meme among Presidential  aspirants is to announce to prospective supporters the number one thing he or she will do on DAY ONE, immediately following the last utterance of the last syllable of the oath of office.  " help me goddd....and now I now proclaim that all children over the age of 5 be indentured to serve out their childhood fulfilling Prime Now orders in Amazon warehouses across this great nation... Oh, and yeah, I just killed Obamacare."

Telling voters what you will do on Day One if elected to sleep in the White House is an act of extreme pandering that has become almost a campaign obligation like appearing in rolled-up shirtsleeves standing on a bale of hay in mega church singing gawd bless America. So to supplement the already Day One promises I suggest the following for the current crop of clown candidates. 

Donald "The Rumpus" Trumpus: his first day is already full with building that 1,954 mile-long wall between the U.S. and Mexico. But what Trump and his supporters (Trumportors) are really looking forward to on Day One will be the issuance of his one-to-ten rankings list of supermodels. His recent preview ranking of Heidi Klum as less than a "10" .... was just what the nation needed during our summer of discontent. 

Scott "Recall" Walker: On Scott's big Day One he will issue himself a college degree. Honorary of course, but better than nothing. 

Ted (Count Chocula) Cruz: Day One will also be the Last Day as he will announce the official shutting down of the U. S. Government. 

Rand "Curly" Paul: That curly mop will see not another day as Prez Paul gets a Brazilian Blowout hair-straightening treatment on Day One.  

Marco "Thirsty Boy" Rubio: Republicans like walls. On Day One El Presidente Rubio better get constructing a wall around Miami to keep the rising "non-human-induced non-climate change" sea levels from washing Florida away. 

Lindsey "Sweetheart" Graham:  On Day One Prezzy Lindsey promises to reveal who he has met on the dating site "CongressWithMe" to join him as his FLOTUS. 

Rick "Oops" Perry: Prez Perry is looking forward thru his new genius glasses to finally on Day One ....."doing sumthang...uh, uh, open up a can of oop ass?"

Jeb "Mama's Boy" Bush: Day One of his return of the Dynasty to the Throne, Jebsonofabush will stick the head of Saadam Hussain on the White House fence. Saadam's head has been lovingly cared for by Dick Cheney in his Wyoming bunker since his execution in 2003.  "This one's for you Mommy," Jeb'll say. 

Mike "Fat Again" Huckabee:  And on The First Day, President Huckabee, author of his biblical best seller "God, Guns, Grits & Gravy" will conjur the wrath of God, the death of Guns, the whiteness of Grits and the grease of Gravy to require all Demon-crats to pack open-carry heat and dine at Cracker Barrel, Chick fil'A , Pizza Hut and Waffle House. 

Rick "Man-on-Dog" Santorum: Like Mike the Huckabee, President Santorum.. Can't say that word...(yuckyphew!) awww crap, forget it..

Bobby "Apu" Jindal: first India-heritage President Jindal's Day One proclamation will require all Kwicky Marts to serve Cajun-style slur-pees. 

Carly "InkJet" Fiorina: The first U.S. trans-gender woman President, Prez Fiorina issues a blanket pardon on Day One to all manufacturers of ink jet printers for the crime of charging customers $8,000 per gallon ($32/half ounce) for ink refills. In a sign of bipartisanship she also rescinds her campaign promise to run the U.S. government like she did Hewlet Packard.  

John "Semi-Normal Republican" Kasich and George "My middle name really IS Elmer" Pataki: Fantasy President Kasich and Fantasy Vice Principal Pataki's Day One fantasy promise to go to Disney World will be a fantasy fulfilled. They will be joined by the remaining fantasy Republican candidates:
Jim Gilmore
James C.  Mitchell
Michael Bickelmeyer 
K. Ross Newland
Skip Anderson
Jack Fellure 
George Bailey 
John Dumment 
Dale Christiansen 
Jefferson Sherman 
Michael Petyo 
Andy Martin
Brooks Cullison 
Brian Russell 
Shawna Sterling
Bartholomew Lower 
Chris Hill
Mark Everson 
Esteban Oliverez 
Jim Hayden 
Kerry Bowers
Ben Carson 
Eric Cavanagh 

Hillary "The Rodham" Clinton: What a Day One! Been waiting for this one a long time. Ahhhh.  Saporem Diem. Savor the Day. Guess what Bill? You been served. D. I. V. O. R. C. E. 

Bernie "Burn Baby Burn" Sanders: President Bernie, incendiary socialist, will wait until May 1st, May Day, to declare Day One when he'll Bernie y'all rich white mofcukas asses down.


Friday, July 17, 2015

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Dead "FareThee Well" Last Concert Inspires Them to Keep on Truckin' Concert Dates Announced !

Dead "FareThee Well" Last Concert Inspires Them to Keep on Truckin' Concert Dates Announced !

On the heels of a blockbuster last tour and and final performance in Chicago this past weekend, the Grateful Dead Band, Inc.  announced today a worldwide tour of every nation on the globe. Newly installed "Dead" lead singer and guitarist Chad Kroeger, who recently left his band Nickleback, said that the Dead's international fan base deserved another chance to experience the wonderment of expensive ticketry and musical nirvana at least one more final time. 
"The Grateful Dead brand represents the ultimate commercialization of Baby Boomer  values," said Kroeger.  "And we certainly want to cash in on that," he said. The former Nickleback band leader and cult rock idol says he want to his new band in new directions. "We'll be re-constituting and re-purposing a lot of my old Nickleback greatest hits, slowing them down with a layer of chill, lethargy and insouciance particular to The Dead," he explained. "It's gonna be kind of sweet & sour...a umami kinda thing, with long stretches of blissful Dead-like drums hums and numbs, Kroeger said.  "Both Nickleback and Dead fans are gonna crush it large for this product, I mean experience." 

Monday, June 29, 2015

The Night They Burned Old Dixie Down

Ban it & Burn It. 

Spurn it & Burn it

Flag it & Rag It. 

Flag it & Bag It. 

As even Supreme Court inJustice Scalia would probably agree, you have a right, like him, to be an asshole. Yes, take the Confederate flag down from government sites..after all it's a symbol of a treasonous insurrection against the U.S. government. But ban it? We don't ban ideas nor representations of ideas...symbols...the flag of the treasonous who wanted to overthrow the government in order to keep their human slaves. If you want to buy a confederate flag made in China then by gods buy one for your man cave or a flag bumper sticker for your pickup. This is America, right? The country of free expression, life, liberty and pursuit of happiness (and assholeness) that supporters of that flag wanted to overthrow and sacrifice to so they could keep people in slavery. But don't over-react like Apple by removing pictures of it from video games and computer apps. What would a Cracker Barrel restaurant be without confederate flags and refrigerator magnets? Or little red and blue stripes of iron-on cloth for confederate flag DIYers at Hobby Lobby? Does Chick-fil-a sell them? Did Amazon, Sears, Walmart and eBay decide to ban the sale of the pro-slave flags for any reason other than negative PR and the effect on profits?  Probably not. Good riddance from public government institutions, yes. Purge it and ban its sale, no. Besides, we know what banning something does...Amazon reported flag sales increased up to 2,000% just prior to its decision to pull flag merchandise. (Of course we don't know what that means in real numbers) It's likely that if a scientific poll could measure it more than 25% of Americans are genuine (as opposed to just fake) assholes. (I just pulled that number from guess where) So let'em buy it if so inclined. Maybe they will buy the flags to remind themselves of the shame of Confederacy. Maybe. 

Monday, June 15, 2015

My re-Assignment

Bruce did it. So did Rachel. Bruce is now Caitlyn. Rachel Dolezal turned from White to Black. These two high profile publicly debated cases compel and inspire me to finally come clean, or green, as many correctly assume. Yes, I'm ready to come out. 
Yes, I have undergone a reassignment.

Not gender. Not race. Not sexual orientation. Not even from bloody carnivore to shadowless vegan. Ever since my arrival onto this 6,000 year-old earth from my mother ship I have deeply felt that the tactile-visual interface assigned to me at my creation, a human endoskeleton covered with a human exoskeleton, was wrong. So wrong. So today I've got to do it. It’s going to be tough. I’ve been thinking about this day forever and what I should do with my life. How do I tell my story? How do I tell people what I’ve been through, and that day is today. I don't need tissues — because we don't cry. It’s gonna be kinda tough but today’s the day.  

Am I a Corporation? Yes. Am I a Uranian Corporation? Yes, for all intents and purposes, I am a corporation from the Republic of Uranus. Mitt Rommey only said half of it...that corporations are people... Well, Mitt, they can be Uranians, too. I guess that makes me a Corporate Uranus Republican (CUR). I’ve always been confused with my galactic identity. During those early post-creation ages I engaged in cross dressing...often shedding my human neonatal wrappings and transporting my natural human state throughout my Assimilation Dwell Pod (home) with free abandon wearing only suspenders and Top Hat.  My progenitor elements, Mum & Pop, ignored my nearly naked attempts to connect with my true Corporate Uranus Republican identity. So did my pre-me human sibling Rita as well as subsequent post-me human element sib-whelpings Stephen, Joan, Christopher, Molly, Isadore, Cantwell and Mucky. Every day was a cry (not literally since we don't) for help. Since neonatehood I have always felt special; like a semi-colon in a long connective rambling sentence. Difficult to potty train, I believed early on that simple trickle down was the best for those under me. I had to suppress my core CUR beliefs that as it is practiced in my homeland Uranus everyone should be armed to the teeth and tentacles at all times with mobile instruments of death and mayhem; (notice the semi-colon!) that the principles of freedom (well, not unfettered female body & health-decision freedom) and survival of the fittest should rule us instead of oppressive wealth-distributing governments. Yes, all my life I have definitely felt like a CUR, a Uranus maker and shaker...not a taker.  So today (stifled sniff) I announce to this world my galactic re-assignment shedding my human skin and transitioning to my true nature...a Corporate Uranian of the Republic of Uranus. Look for my upcoming reality show on The Fox News Channel. (Kleenex, godsdammit!) 

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

News Clothes..touchy, touchy, touchy....

"Google....announced a new partnership with Levi Strauss in which the companies would try to make interactive garments that would allow people to do things like send someone a text message by swiping their jacket cuff...conductive fabrics that can be weaved into everyday clothes...could register the users touch and transmit information elsewhere, like to a smartphone or tablet computer."

Just got my new wardrobe box from Trunk Club today.  Inside are my new clothes chosen by myreal, qualified personal stylist, GiGi.  She has learned what I like, and she knows what looks good on me. As I open the Trunk box I feel a sense of anticipation mixed with confidence that my new clothes will fulfill my need not only to be clothed but to be digitally connected as well.

On top, a shirt. Packaged in rustic crinkled paper, like butcher block. Nice. Light green small checked, long-sleeved, cuffs already folded and rolled up two turns telling me it's informal, casual wear. The Google Interactive GooFib fiber feels slightly stiff on the outside but unusually soft and pliant inside. I unbutton it and slip it on.  Perfect fit. I adjust the collar running my finger along the inside of the size label. My phone dings. There's an ad for Shout stain removal and a coupon from my local grocer for smoked turkey necks. This shirt has a pocket. Don't like shirt pockets. I stick my finger in the pocket and my phone dings again... an ad pops up for Wrigley chewing gum, the Montblanc MEISTERSTÜCK RED GOLD CLASSIQUE FOUNTAIN PEN for only $580 and Sir Ahmed's Whole Wheat Pita Pockets. I smooth the front of the shirt along the lines of my pectorals and up pops a WebMD link on my phone to an article about gynecomastia or male breast enlargement caused by too much booze, weed or....crap, the dreaded LOW T.  Yup, that dings another ad for some kind of testosterone replacement gel and an email link to Big Breasted Women Eager to Please.  Even though the shirt sleeves are pre-rolled, I shoot my cuffs like they do in the movies to straighten them....maybe an extra roll-up would be's summer after all.  I duck to the floor as a loud gunshot noise explodes from my phone. Whew, Just a solicitation to join the National Rifle Association and Fandango and Amazon ads for the movie and books of Fifty Shades of Grey.

GiGi also picked out a new pair of socks. Size 10-12.  I'm sure they fit. Feels like a light cotton- synthetic blend and as I pull one over my bare foot my phone vibrates a text offering 25 cents off a can of Dr. Scholl's Odor-X spray foot powder and a two-for-one deal on toenail fungus paste. [1] 

What else is in my Trunk? GiGi, my real, qualified personalstylist who has learned what I like and knows what looks good on me has selected a light tan pair of chinos. Waist 34, length 30. No cuffs, and please no pleats. No normcore or dad bod here. I drop trou & step into these new pants. Perfect fit! Lookin' good dude, I dude myself. Whoops, the zipper just got stuck. Just zip it down slowly and start over. Wangggg Wangggg Wangggg my phone alarms...who's calling me now...I slide open the phone to see a porn video in full streaming and steaming flagrante delicto.

How do the chinos look in the seat? Not too tight, not baggy.. That's the look I'm looking for and as I smooth out a folded crease along my pants seat my phone rings. Her voice is throaty and craven..."Hello big boy..this is Raven at BootyCall911...I bet you look great in those new chinos...."


Saturday, June 6, 2015

My Speech to 2015 College Grads

My Speech to 2015 College Grads

Graduation speech time has arrived again on schedule as certain as a Fox News blonde includes Barrack Obama's middle name when listing one of the 6,039 (and counting) ways the President has destroyed America. 

Famous Speechers...POTUS and FLOTUS, writers of prose & poetry and bloggerty and hashtaggerty, corporate makers and shakers of the takers, to the famous, (famous for being famous)...and electronic thespians analog and digital, people elected by people to serve the interests of the people and Teabaggers elected by the corporations to serve the interest of the corporations. The Appointed, the Anointed; the hedge-funded, the digerati disrupters and StartMe-Uppers...all with advice for the ages...18-24...the college grads capped and gowned heads pounding from their last night in academia and beer pongia.  And their advice? Follow your passion. Use your privileged education to better the world. Don't take the easy path. And wear sunscreen of course. Motion picture actor and director Robert DeNiro recently told New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts — graduates “You made it. And, you’re fcuked." Did he mean good luck paying off four years of college debt? Landing a job for those with a degree in history of alternative desert nomad cultures or mystical Renaissance religious cults... Or was he simply paying literal tribute to four years of the best/most sex those students will ever have? What ever he meant, his words barely registered a trickle of giggles and head-nodding wake-ups from the soon to be launched and credentialed graduates. They've heard it all before. Some of them from pre-school, kindergarten, junior high and high school graduation ceremonies. 

Here are excerpts from one they might not have heard:

Good Afternoon Graduates! Wake up goddamit! Here..chew & swallow these..quickly (flinging out over the crowd of listless grads handfuls of vicodins..) gottem swallowed? Ok, listen up. And listen too! "I HAVE ABANDONED MY SON..THERE WILL BE BLOOD. favo movie..ok, pills working yet? Graduates! Today you stand here...sit here...with great expectations, dreams and stomachs that feel like the Koch brothers are fraking up your ass. Dream on little expectorants...what you have achieved these past four years is highly esteemed by Dalitesh, who shovels out cesspools by hand in a northern India city. Your long hours of cramming for exams, writing Internet derivative essays and learning how to form political & social alliances on campus was highly admired by 18 year old Fatu in Sierra Leone who convulsively bled to death from Ebola last year. Oh, and yes, your management of social networks, your skilled hashtag activism really made a difference to Myung Seok and her family imprisioned in a North Korean labor camp for the past four years. Your struggles to expose the rape culture, (about time!) on this campus and others is especially appreciated by Kanleakhana, a 10 year old sex slave girl in Bangkok. Yes, these past four years have changed you in many ways. You're certifiably educated now. Stop dreaming. Throw your passion in the pits, get a job, thank your parents or someone. Don't be a dick.  Those pills working yet? Feeling better?

Saturday, April 4, 2015



Headed to Coachella or Lollapalooza...? Or maybe a Parisian visit to the Louvre or the great museums of Europe? Well leave Le Selfie Stick at home because more and more institutions and venues have banned the "
mon bâton d'égoportrait" from public appearances. That's why for a limited time only you can subscribe to a unique and personal service that obviates the need for that clumsy unwieldy instrument of vanity enhancement.    
With SelfieValet© you will have at your disposal the ultimate selfie stick: ME. Yes, if you act now, you can have me, SelfieValet, accompany you and your family, loved one or friends on your next vacation or travels. Yes, as SelfieValet I will be responsible for all of your precious selfies, selfieing you and friends or family in crazy-laughing "look-at-me" photos that will be the envy of all your Facebook friends. Leverage that cleavage and don't let that big booty or set of chiseled abs go unnoticed and unshared. Now you can share yourself in all of your glorious vainglory in front of those Wonders of the World...what could be better than a goofy gaping-mouthed eyeball-bulging photo of You with the Taj Mahal or Sistine Chapel in the background. And just think about it... no more sore shoulders or cramped arms from stretching that cell phone-holding arm aloft... No more dragging that clumsy selfie stick -- now so sadly banned in many places.  With SelfieValet every rapturous moment of your self-absorbed vacation life can be captured and shared with all of your boring friends who spend their lives at home in front of screens wishing they were you. Yes, for a limited time only SelfieValet is available for just pennies and dollars a day. Basic SelfieValet services require First Class airfare or Limo transportation for me to your venue or vacation site, accommodations (for me) at hotel or site near you, food and drink expenses and union-mandated rest breaks (for me)  required. SelfieValet Premium Service Plans also available. Don't delay! Your online social cred is on the line...SelfieValet: it's me. Stickit2urself with SelfieValet.

Friday, February 27, 2015

Apple Solves "battery-life" issue of Apple Watch

Apple solves 
battery life issue for upcoming Apple Watch release!  According to Apple Design Maestro Sir Jony Ive, "...the solution was watching us all along...just waiting for the right moment when the ethereal blankness of imaginative whiteness fell into synchronicity with the mundane yet everyday tasks of human activity. And then it was that we knew what we so truly were looking for...and oh so more importantly the very Thing we were actually looking At. And At that moment we felt totally plugged-in to the Answer. An electric cord.. So elegant yet simple...a design that evolves from our very post-modern DNA. Flexible, ubiquitous, so familiar and, lest I strike a note of the prosaic and the banal, so "handy." No batteries to charge. Just plug-in and feel the empowerment, the classic sense of immediate dignity. The Apple Watch: every one a "limited edition."

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

2014 - Hoarding & Lording and Baring & Sharing

2014 - Hoarding & Lording and Baring & Sharing

Hoarders and Lorders
First Class boarders
Fast-lane one-percenters
Kept passing
And amassing
While the 99
Settled-in Pharelly Happy
And Sappy
By baring and sharing
Selfies and songs
Not about Wall Streeter wrongs
Or big bankers the wankers
Who sank the middle classes
Instead just laid down like lambs
And Instagramed
Our Big Asses.

The Year in Review
More déjà vu
Back to Iraq
The Taliban captures
Our Afghan Army Hound
To the past we’re bound
No Boots on the Ground
Just drone it in
Death from Abuzz
Make ISIS Was Was.

The Foxes roided
Economic good news they voided
This the Year of Fear
Sourced our ills
To the reign
Of Barack Hussein
Who can’t-say-nope
To those drug mule kids
We be hatin’
On our border violatin’
With calves the size of cantaloupes.

That’s not all
Sarah Palin saw
Our African Prince
Had just the tonic
He imported the deadly virus

In the never ending battle 
For Obamafear
That Obamakill would drown us 
In medical bills
Ebola dropped handshakes and fist bumps down to our heels
We right-wringed a dried-out federal budget deal
Cut disease research cause we'd rather be dead
And pour buckets of ice water on our heads instead.

The Foxes saw
With fear
And malice
From afar
Obama disappear
That Malaysian airliner
The Executive Action Immigration signer
Tea baggers soon regretted their
Putin Piner shouts of “real leader”
As his ruble roiled
In a glut of US oil
He’s now boiled borsht with cold chopped liver
While Obama sings “Crimea River.”

Obama’s sins
On him The Foxes pinned
He hacked J-Law’s nudie selfies
Sold ’em to Boku Harem themselfies
Wrote the lyrics to “It’s All About the Bass.”
Uncoupled unconscious Gwyneth and Chris
Encouraged Michael Sam and his boyfriend’s kiss
Caught Michelle at midnight in the fridgerator
Cold cocked Janay and Jay-Z in elevators.
But the smoking gun, folks,
Was tokin’
A Commie Cuban Fat Cigar
In a ‘57 Chevy car.
A bridge way too far.

For some this year served as a lesson
The Pope said dogs might go to Heaven
“Who am I to judge,” he sounded zany
Easier he said, for a dog, than for Dick Cheney
For who’s reserved a special place in Hell
For rectal-de-hydration in an eternal cell.
Rick Perry hopes to be less “oops-ier”
In unGoogled horn-rimmed glass
He looks even more the ass
Running again with pants more poopier.

Others took a road less travelled
Bill Cosby came unravelled
Rejected as a driver for Uber
His face not funny smile less goofy
Delivering roofies
For a start-up called Luber.

For 2015 here’s some advice:
If you shot Bin Laden
That he’s dead will suffice.

If your name is Grover last name Norquist
Or even Casper the famous Milquetoast
Please don’t tweet that you drove a Hippie van
To the Black Rock desert and Burning Man.

Don’t get excited by the next Podcast Serial
I’ll give you a glimpse of the new material:
It’s not Adnan,
It’s not Jay,
It’s not Mr. S.,
It’s not boyfriend Dave.
The Serial killer simp...
The Male Chimmmppp!...Chimp?

  (For those who missed
The Serial podcast referenced above...
A verse for you to leave or love.)

The Polar Ice Cap
May be melting
Like a face-lift of Renee Zellweger.
Climate change
If you say, “Hell, go figure!”
Then this year’s Super Bowl half time
You know it
Will feature America’s favorite Poets.

Happy New Year - 2015