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Posted by on Jan 28, 2019 in Blog, Essays | 1 comment

Even More Morsels of My Madness

 

 

I hear voices.  They speak to me.  This is what they ask.  Here’s what they say:

[1]   Why do swarms of concertgoers insist on using their smartphones to record each second of every song?  Here’s an idea:  Pick one guy to be responsible for recording video.  Then, sit down, relax, and enjoy the show.  Let me put it another way — YOU’RE NOT STEVEN SPIELBERG!  SIT THE FUCK DOWN!

[2]   I totally relate to trans-people.  I happen to be a juvenile trapped inside the body of a 57-year-old man.

[3]   Remember that pizza joint where Hillary Clinton ran her kiddie sex ring?  Does anyone know if the “buy one get 50 percent of a second item” coupon applies, or must it only be used for pizza?  Asking for a friend.

[4]   Army, Navy, and Air Force — all have a college football team.  So, why not the Marines?  Imagine Alabama or Clemson vs. the Marines.  That’s a game I’d like to see.

[5]   Why is the creepy guy who tells a female stranger to “smile” always a smug prick who’s not the least bit funny or witty?

[6]   The most dangerous place in the City of Las Vegas for me is a tiki bar.  Ohhh daaammmnnn, those drinks are gooooood.  I think I left my face in there once.  #frankies

[7]   Mitch McConnell is enough compelling evidence for adding a “negative” scale to the charisma spectrum.

[8]   People are upset South Dakota has the same number of senators as California.  Well, it’s just like the Miss Universe Pageant.  Turks and Caicos gets just as many beauty queens as China, but nobody complains about that.

[9]   Hey, China girl — you beat out 1,200,000,000 other contestants and won Miss People’s Republic of China.  Shouldn’t that be satisfying enough?  Besides, what in the hell did the girl from Turks and Caicos ever do?

[10]  Forget about betting on sports.  I’d rather gamble on reality.  My bet is on drug smugglers.  Give me $500 on whoever replaced El Chapo.  I want to bet on the drug smugglers outfoxing law enforcement, overcoming border walls, and beating the “War on Drugs” by double digits.  Drug smugglers are a lock.  I’ll even lay points.  If drug smugglers were a football team, they’d be the undefeated 1972 Miami Dolphins.

[11]  So, what happened?  Did the Bermuda Triangle finally say, “fuck it, I’m full?”

[12]   I don’t know if I’m more annoyed that Black Panther is coming back to movie theaters — or that Aquaman won’t go away.

[13]   Now that the eldest Bush died, did Ross Perot ever figure out who was trying to ruin his daughter’s wedding?

[14]   Roger Stone complained the FBI treated him worse than Osama bin Laden.  Since bin Laden ended up chopped up into pieces and is now at the bottom of the Indian Ocean, man — I’m really looking forward to seeing what happens to Mr. Stone.

[15]   Fuck!  I figured it out!  Roger Stone was the one who tried to ruin the Perot kid’s wedding!  I knew it!

[16]  I’d sure like to have been at that swinger’s club when Roger Stone revealed that sexy tattoo of Richard Nixon on his back.  What an ice breaker!  Guy musta’ been a real dick magnet.

[17]   The Donner Party were amateurs.  When I was in Catholic school, I musta’ ate the body of Christ at least 200 times.

[18]   I’m starting a petition.  Forget Pelosi and Schumer.  After the President’s State of the Union, I want Chris Rock giving the Democrats’ response.  Ratings would go through the roof and Trump would be pissed as hell.

[19]   I’d love to play National Security Advisor John Bolton in a game of Risk for control of the world.

[20]   I challenge Donald Trump in a game of Monopoly — for real money.  Multiple bankruptcies show he knows nothing — about either Atlantic City or real estate.  A Trump hotel on Boardwalk would be a total disaster.  He’d roll the dice and land on “Go to Jail.”

 

Note:  Previous “morsels of my madness” here:

MORE MORSELS OF MY MADNESS

__________

 

1 Comment

  1. Re #4: probably because the Marines *do* have a college football team. It’s called the United States Naval Academy. Midshipmen can opt to join the fleet or the USMC upon graduation from Annapolis.

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