Tuesday, May 31, 2016



Business and its
Righty Asskissers

have coyly declared merest
minions to be Managers now,
thus avoid paying overtime.

Once, there were REPUBLICANS.

Saying “Let’s hammer out

a policy! One
of good,
lasting sense.”


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Monday, May 30, 2016



In the Supply Room,
Relly pitched forward
as the pile of cartons
gave way, struck his head
on an old wooden filing

“Where...am I?” he asked
Bent, the college intern,
who helped him back to
his desk.

He appeared dazed all
morning, and was left
out of the usual sarcastic

Many were for taking him
to a doctor, but "Judge"
Halliday, the office elder
prevailed, everybody
sharing Dunkin Donuts and

Delsey Flowers made sure
Relly got his sugar treat!
“Do I like these?”

He gradually came to, but
not before a Visitation,
everybody at lunch.

A shining young woman, all
in white, as the computers
shimmered around her.

Relly blinked and blinked.

"I...hit my head."

"Would you like to see my cunt?"

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Sunday, May 29, 2016


The Girl With the Thousand-Mile Stare

-Was born with it.

-But, she didn't seem warmless. There
was...lovemaking, no?


-Whatever was out there ranked higher for her?

-Undoubtedly. Finally joined the Peace Corps.
I'm on her email list. Mostly for pictures.

-Hahongah and his brother climb a Wungsit tree?

-That's about it.

-Enter your very immediate Helen!

-And frenetic. No stare whatsoever. Up and doing! 

Eyes like daggers. "Let's get moving! I'm bored
outa my freakin skull!"

-Bit restless, then?

-Like, 101 percent!

-But, not evil in this case?

-No time!

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Saturday, May 28, 2016


A Dolf That Will Live In Infamy!

not quite

 -What're YOU? The little HITLER
around here?

He had heard that before, but
seldom ordered anyone around

Almost never. The Employee Reports,
in fact, asked for more assertion!

Oh well, he was mostly a solo act.
Troubleshooting Auditor sent in
when others smelled fish, but couldn't
pin the figures down.

Now he had to jolly Andi, his live-in
girlfriend. He did that pretty well--
for a tinpot dictator.

Then she insisted he slink around like
Chaplin or Groucho Marx, heiling the cats,

who popped in and out, enjoying the game.

It all ended in laughter. Whereupon he
did his best at sex.

-It's a strange world, and we're strange!

Andi always ended in such a formulation
before they slept.

Staring into the mirror like a Swedish actress.

He told her he had fun with it.

She informed him that he was her 

Snuggle Bunny!

Soon asleep in tiny breaths, the cats 

joining them one by one.

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Friday, May 27, 2016


“Count Meshugana”

It was discovered early on that
giving him responsibility was
inviting incoherent disaster!

As a result he was promoted again
and again.

To a position the company felt
confident that he'd delegate
just about everything from.

As a result, his department received
several awards.

When one cut through the CEO's King's-
English blather, could fathom they were for
screwing up less than the other departments.

Did I say that he was warm and loving
and approachable? Beautiful manners!

In contrast to the others in his executive,
soaring plateau.

Bastards and Bitches...enough said.

Anyway, hired away by Honda. He bowed
quite well too.

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Thursday, May 26, 2016


The Man Who Worried About Everything

stumbles and falls at Rush and Hepplewhite,
bumping his head on a marble stone Gentry
used for climbing into coaches during The
Gilded Age.

He only worries about one thing now:
his headache!

Which gradually subsides, as his fretful
steadies return. Like friends from out
a cutting blizzard.

They’re home! Where he can worry about them.

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Wednesday, May 25, 2016



-Passion for Duty lights the fire
under the Revolutionary’s ass!

-Uh huh? And the old system,
with all its bitching malcontents,
somehow gets my favorite grind and
morning Danish to the coffee shop.

-Some quite unhappy people in the
process! All for your infinitesimal
bourgeois goals.

-Yeah? Well Shangra-La two or three
kingdoms over. Book a flight if
you can’t stand ordinary people

-Maybe just wait for the Revolution.

-I’ll have to forget the coffee shop then.
Be destroyed in pique or incompetence.
Or replaced by a store selling posters
of expansive motto!

-More will be built to the common good!

-Can’t fuckin wait!

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Tuesday, May 24, 2016



-Most of the guys are hitting
around 200! And confused!

-Shall I say the words for the
terribly extracted from?
The abstracting words?

-Performance Enhancing Drugs!

-You said them for me. I must keep
you around for arguing with my
girlfriend. That way we both can lose.

-Our heroes have LOST 50 to 100 points!
When they gobbled up that crap, even
their shit had muscles!

-Happies up the pitchers! And as the former
addicts get more and more frustrated,
they throw them more and more junk.

-How can they get away with it? They're
doctoring the ball!

-Easy. They're not feeding it pills!

-Or injecting it?

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Monday, May 23, 2016


DC Elevator and a

Universal Rule

“What...NIXON? Why single him out?

Like, every president surrounds himself
with pricks!”

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Sunday, May 22, 2016


Matters of Privacy

Denham kept to himself. Fact known in the small
apartment house.

But the twin sisters brought him a rice pudding, a
custom, they explained, on this day of St Ambrose,
the Grocer.

Much girlish amusement as to nothing ever done
for St Ambrose the Good!

In that relatively warm, if ecclesiastical, atmosphere,
Denham made tea.

When you got the twins on your hands, this the
quickest way to get rid of them.

He promised to return the bowl, but they said
no hurry. So he washed and polished it over a
week, to give the gossips no ammunition.

Then, stored it a bit, next to his Giants mugs.

For Deirdre, the twin with the shooting eye, had died.

He made his way to her viewing in their apartment,
hoping to be the last.

He was, and at the end mentioned the bowl to Destiny,
who blinked and blinked claiming it wasn't important
for now.

Denham took a deep breath, in preparation for his
escape, but when he got his hand on the doorknob,
it just tuned and turned in a lumpy circle.

No use calling Arthur, who was resting his bad back
and wouldn't come anyway.

She closed Deirdre's coffin and put on popcorn.

Announcing both that they were two adults, and that
there would be no silly mourning prohibitions either,
including not watching the Giants and Eagles in the
Thursday night game just starting.

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Saturday, May 21, 2016


Howling Devils Ice Cream

Zetz had been the rebel against
the orthodoxy of parents who
conformed flawlessly.

Any misstep viciously punished.

But they were no less unspairng
of themselves. When Mother helped
herself to the last piece of French
Apple Pie at the Church Supper, knowing
it was Mrs Donsey's absolute favorite,
she had no sweets for a month

Or the Mister taking a shot of Old Overholt
after a Christening. His favorite Mac and
Cheese disappeared from the menu for a year!

Anyway, Zetz escaped from the punishing
atmosphere to The Radcliffe Hicks School
of Agriculture at UConn, majoring in Dairy.

After junior exec-ing at Sealtest for three
years, he took the plunge and opened up
his own store on the West Haven Shore in
Savin Rock's Amusement Park.

All the flavors there were pretty conventionally
named before wife, Marselly. As a fierce atheist,
she invented Repeating Sinners for Chocolate
Macadamia, and Lusting Daughter for Butter Pecan.

Caused total disengagement with his fervent
parents. After only one Thanksgiving Dinner,
pictures of Saints looking down.

As to good old full and natural Vanilla, it could be just
that, or by the addition of a candy stick containing
hot pepper, Howling Devils!

But, Vanilla also eventually fell to Marselly’s wit: Rigid Spinster.

Though asked frequently to do so, Zetz would never
combine flavors in the same scoop. Sometimes the
children wanted pretty sherbert colors.

One night, Patty Hully, visiting from Rhode Island,
and the sweetest sixteen imaginable, coaxed him
to combine Rigid Spinster and Holy Smoke, a faint
plum concoction.

When he handed her the cone, her eyes became
pinwheels of fire.

He dreamt of them, and the following week was treated
by Dr Grimes for ulcers.

He helped along the medicine by eating a pint of Rigid
Spinster daily. Seemed smart then, dumb now.

His parents prayed an hour daily especially for him.
They never could be persuaded to do the same for
that wife of his!

Whatever. He got better for some reason nobody
could fathom, and they came up with new flavors.

He kept up his daily pint, but now added the fiery
candy stick for Howling Devils.

Parents bought new funeral clothes anyway,
and they molder away. As do they.


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Friday, May 20, 2016


The Team

I've filled out this same Form-19
for ten years! Nothing has changed.

-Ah but it has! Since I'm filling it
out with you!

-For some reason.

-But now we're even more vulnerable to
hackers as a team, so our password is...
I'll write it down once.


-Asta the dog in the Thin Man movies?
With characters Nick and Nora?

-How about the 67 etc at the end?

-Can't reveal that.

-And what's a movie anyway?

-You're so perfect for this experiment!
Mother's name?


-Must change it to Andrea.


-Trust me!

-And...keep trusting you?

-You learn fast. Which contradicts
the profile.

-Just a rebel!

-Or as much of a one can be tolerated
in pussy times.

-Do you superiors know that you...?

-That’d be a novelty. They know nothing!
But which party’s box to check, of course.

-How did sunken politics begin to rule?

-Began with Hongo buying his way to
Caveman of the Month with old fish.

-Still stink!

-Anyway, we skip now until the signatures.
Omitting the same tired chorus of all your
mediocre years.

-Are you married?

-I was, but direct speech a no-no!

-I found that out also. So I presently retreat
to my single studio facing a brick wall.

-Fret not! You live on in the vibrancy of Form-19!

-In relative gaiety then?

-You’re a Derby Winner compared to the mudders 

I deal with!

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Thursday, May 19, 2016


Political Swan Song

-Thus and so, one more turn on a
very nearly abandoned stage.

-I thought two.

-As did I, before the editorials
tromponed that I had trashed
my principles!

-And did you?

-One or two re-emerge in the fog.

-But...it’s been flat, stale, and
unprofitable?--as Hamlet says.

-All but that last.

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Wednesday, May 18, 2016


“Bovine Ruth”

When the nickname came back to
her, she was displeased in her
special, and sweet, way.

"Intended to ridicule and diminish"
was the State's burden as it brought
charges without her asking.

Luncie's misfortune proved the very
rambling form of Maximum Maxine Rucks, 

The Judge From Hell!

He'd have twenty-one years to think of
his motives in embarrassing pretty Ruth.

You'd think he'd spend them complaining
about Political Correctness to his fellow Righties.

Instead he became a scholar of cows, seeing the
docile Ruth as a sort of goddess.

The cult spread in Hixson Penetentiary,
culminating in three years with a special
invitation to the wronged Ruth to attend
a picnic of "The Bovine Worshipful Cult."

It so impressed her: the dappled men
reciting bovine facts as to digestion, that
she forgave Luncie. The Warden sent heavily-
iced Cinnamon Rolls!

Other wardens, especially of fractious prisons,
invited Luncie to start chapters of the cult.

Soon he was coordinating the Eastern United
States and Puerto Rico. Traveling with a guard,
then not.

When he was paroled eight years in, he wouldn't
leave. The Warden fitted out a studio apartment
and office in an abandoned cell block and
named him Social Director.

Many more prisons joined in now, the West and
difficult South being swept up. Nowhere that
the saintly Ruth--newly named The Bovine Virgin-- 
didn't travel that rose petals weren't strewn
in her path.

Bubba Hocks of the Georgia System: “That shit
he sells, he’s the fucking rehab genius!”

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Tuesday, May 17, 2016


Nazi! The Game

-Biff and Elinor reluctant to join in.

-Their admired caution?

-Finally, they own a small French hotel.

-And in blusters Henny?

-As SS Captain Heinrich Heinrich!

-Their politeness even to him?

-But of course. So much that he feels
they’re being sarcastic.

-Don’t like where this is heading!

-Whips out the Luger and shoots both dead!

-RIP Sweet Duo! And get on with your real life.

-Not the way Henny plays any game.

-There’s a line between…!


-So tragic! I...can get a towel from their bathroom. For the next…

-Good! Their legacy being clean.

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Monday, May 16, 2016


Conventions? Ask the Taxi Drivers

The Party of the Rich
knows how to party!

Many inquiries as 

to loin-dear whores

shuffled in from
the four corners of 


To join a fractious row.
Democrats? Not so much.

Though two librarians
fell last one.

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Sunday, May 15, 2016


Oriental Notions

-With the new bullet train, Etsuko had to decide
faster than she was used to.

-The romantic conclusion?

-She sent her brother to turn him around at
the station.

-Thus, Malcolm back to Massachusetts?

-And Etsuko into the practiced arms of a man
who runs Yokohama jewelry stores.

-Her gracing each in turn: Kimono, and offering tea?

-Wouldn't want to short your stereotypes.

-How about Malcolm's? American True-Blue!

-He goes with the woman who manages his
softball team. All facts and figures.

-Not THAT type!

-Not in the bedroom: she only stops to pee!

-Grossly American! I can't even VISUALIZE
Etsuko's tinkle.

-From the people who brought us The Bataan
Death March!

-She transcends all History!

-Did you ever see Nelly make water?
She pisses a hell of a stream.

It goes for a mile and a quarter.
And you can't see her ass for the steam.

-Make it all vulgar! And folk!

-What it is. Hey! Pretty little Etsuko saw
her life and then invented it!

-Like we all don't?


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Saturday, May 14, 2016



Rudge heard indistinct voices in the wind.

Or perhaps on the wind. Actual ones picked
up somewhere and flung at him.

Young Hector told him that he could
tell what they were saying.

He could do this in Spanish
when a child, and in English now.

They were angry, he claimed, about
being stuck somewhere. Forever!

Rudge uh-huhed, more fixed by
Hector's liquid brown eyes.

Lorky maintained he heard them
when there was no wind. Hector
knew that this was a separate
set of voices, light and happy.

So everyone wasn't miserable
in the other world?

Lorky certainly wasn't, here, under
those brown eyes!

The two men became exceeding
jealous of each other's time
with Hector. They began sniping
in all matters.

Lorky finally erupted: "I thought
I had left women because they
were too muddled and emotional,
and now I see that men are worse!
I'm going back to Cecilia. Let her be
the pain in the ass and balls she's
always been!"

After a bit, she was allowed to join
our bunch. Proved scattered but charming.
Most of the talk about her.

"Loco!" pronounced Hector. The brown eyes
turning hard.

Voices left.

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Friday, May 13, 2016


Sexual Exercises

The text from Captain Ambrose
Hartaker to Captain Dolores Noler:
U locate troops wrong map sgmnt.

Back from her: Qwkly corrctd! On move! 

Thanx Sir!

He to Lt Charley Hosk: “Parallel Parking 

in War.”

She to Lt Eloise Nelson: “Honestly!
Such Assholes!”

Later to both Captains in conference call
from Operation High-Top War Games
Referee, Colonel Harley "Biff" Grimes:

"Your units captured, high rate of
dead and wounded!"

Upon his hanging up, to fellow ref,
Colonel Max Grady: "The women at
least LOOK better."

Max: “How many incompetents does
it take to lose a war?”

"Or win one?"


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Thursday, May 12, 2016


Fearing Political Murder

-I’m worried about violence with this election.

-Oh I don’t know. Loose talk now will translate
to boredom as things go on, punctuated by
nasty cartoons of commercials.

-How nasty? There’s the key that turns the
idiots’ locks!

-Oh come on now! Statistically almost nothing.
How many homicidals in each camp? Insignificant.

-Oh the Left, less than five percent.

-That high?

-On the Right, approaching twenty.

-No way! Why the central cadre there is impotent
by its very nature: Old White Men! Give me a break!

-Ah but they’ve worked up Nazis and apprentice morons!

-Allow all to heil and that will be enough for them.

-I suspect not.

-The Chinese curse is 

 May you live in interesting times.

-Interesting I don’t mind; murderous I do.

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Wednesday, May 11, 2016


...a dating post for Liberals.

McNally’s Tavern in Chestnut Hill

First time for Jerry, Accountant for
School District of Philadelphia, and
Nicole, French Teacher, Girls’ High.

Jerry: Trump will have deaths on
his hands! Old White Men choking
on their Reactionary gorge and
succumbing to strokes!

Nicole: It couldn’t happen to a
nicer bunch of Racists and Sexists!

Jerry: Oh well...maybe they believe
what they say.

Nicole: Merde merde merde!

Jerry: Ship out the remaining Republicans?

Nicole: Of course! Keep the immigrants instead!
They have good food!

Both pleased they seemed compatible.

Ordered JFK Sandwiches.

The front windows went from afterglow to black
as buses hissed along Germantown Avenue.

Both prefer Becks.

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Tuesday, May 10, 2016


Awaiting the Bowel Imagery

-That Crimson T-Shirt Look ain’t cutting it on
my Gramps.

-Angry red on an Angry White? What message?

-Looks like a flaming brick, and the text: Her! AWP!

-And the awful Her in question?

-Darlene Smitts, Dem candidate for Congress.

-Okay then, so, and I’m guessing: Block her?



-Any Way Possible.

-Who came up with...?”

-Limbaugh and Hannity–-a co-production.

-Funded by Koch Brothers?

-What else?

-All for a local-yokel seat?

-No such thing in the New World of Cruelty Absolute!

-Can you say that in French?

-I’d prefer not to.

-Oh well, so what? Your Gramps can’t jerk off anymore,
so he’s got the Republicans.

-They got him. It’s pitiful.

-How about poor Grandma?


-More of a masochist she!

-Anyway, not just high-minded idiocy, because that same
Democrat Gal used to live next door to them.

-Uh huh? Displaying sarcastic scorn at that point in time?

-She and girlfriends with helicopter sounds. And silent-swooping
drone entertainment programs...sort of circular, arms extended.
Pretty in moonlight I must say! I recommend girl-giggles at
midnight to the sourest hater.

-Uh huh? Well, they had their fun, and now must deal with the revenge forthcoming from the Right-Certifiable!

-Can YOU make helicopter sounds?

-Of course but I...

-prefer not to. You must ENGAGE! In order to engage in political
life in Asylum-America!

-Well, anyway, God just can’t keep shedding his grace on the
Righteous Right. Too many murders ensue.

-Oh yeah? Well HE, and THEY, invite YOU to blow it out your ASS!

-All this way without one bowel image, and now this!

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Monday, May 09, 2016


Meeting of Alleged Minds

Nomination-Bound, and of some
Liberal Contradictions, Trump,
will soon iron matters out with
Ayn Rand disciple, and Speaker, Ryan.

(Both to stop building walls?)

Mostly to affirm the sacred Republican Touchstone of grinding the face of the poor--Doctrine here, pleasant fallout in our war zones.

Plus, the menacing of docile women
as to the thoroughly-deserved lowering
consequences of sex--in the name
of Christ Jesus a cruel possibility.

As is a compromise on a Platform more of
indictments than planks.

Very nearly a prayer also for the welfare
of the Rich: May they never be discomfited!

Much, of course, a matter of style
between two men of our just time.

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Sunday, May 08, 2016



Min and Deirdre ran from the Winn-Dixie 
with his plastic bags. Caught him entering 
his Focus.

He laughed, and made the requisite
joke that his mother said he'd forget 

his head if it wasn't attached etc.

They left before they could think to
ask him of the legend that he had
forgotten his wife.

All too true! They had gone to one of the
Star Wars Epics, and his mind full
of whizzing fighter planes and quirky
robots, he left her in the Ladies' Room
and drove home alone.

She phoned her sister, stayed with her

When he thought of it, he emailed her to
return, but she never replied.

Seven years have passed, and she has left
her sister's to live alone.

The perfect place for such sensitive ones,
he muses, then forgets.

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Saturday, May 07, 2016


Lucille’s Entertainment

He seemed to play his heart out
in his bluegreen near-fluorescence.

The white piano like a toy.

Then he turned to me and cried
“I do it all for you! Never can
there be another!”

“Well, thank you.”

“Can you give me some small hope?
For such romantic bits of bits I live!”

“But...you’re a hologram! Size of Barbie.”

“Nonetheless! Oh...well.” He picked up
his sheet music and vibrated away from
the piano, trailing ribbons of greenish
light, the papers he shed drifting back like
glowing postage stamps.

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Friday, May 06, 2016



“Discontinuation of Practice”

Came the notice via all electronic media.

But several things pending which couldn't 
proceed without their approval.

We had to each chip in to hire a fixer.
He had headed up the Bureau in the past.

“They've changed everything!” he complained.

Code for they've changed nothing, but he
required more cash.

Somehow, all the proper balances got struck,
mostly due to his obeisances to former underlings.

Ending with a showy kowtow televised world-wide.

The great big thing: we didn't get into TWE, the
Trouble Without Extraction.

Where you only learn where the bodies are

buried as you’re about to join them.

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Thursday, May 05, 2016


Reasonable Coherence

The new reorganization philosophy in an office
that had last suffered through

Team First!

RC sought sensible outcomes through sensible means,
and with personnel not bending themselves like Gumby.

Tough sell, though, by Mr Carkswell, brought in to institute it.

Mrs Carkswell's first husband was Farmer Joe, deceased.
That couple seemed to have Reasonable Coherence built in.

Anyway, she got up before Carkswell did and baked a box of
chocolate chip cookies.

Said box still warm on the train, which nearly went collectively
mad with the aroma.

Staff went ravenous, and each dropped in to his office with
a  phony question re Reasonable Coherence.

The next week, Farmer Joes, a sort of molasses cookie.
To his memory also, she tossed in a shot of his moonshine.

After this, Peanut Butters cinched the deal. She ground her own.

Berts and Mongo started the office mantra, when they laughingly
said to Carkswell “We will do your will!”

Then others said the same, not laughing.

Anything could go too far. Example: the spotted box which Carkswell  repeatedly used had been stolen, and some say eaten.

He didn't worry. Could scale everything back, using the principles
of Reasonable Coherence.

But, of course, the cookies had to continue at any rate.

A shiny new box each week was the compromise.

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Wednesday, May 04, 2016


Face the Nation 2120

We start with videos of “Rascal.”
The Royal Child, now three.

Then Denise Armbruster and I, per
usual, interview the King.

“I’m so happy, again, that you afford me
the opportunity to talk to my people!--
although your opening segment
featured one as yet uncivilized!”

We all laugh. And, as His hobby is History,
end up discussing the old vile parties,
Delegates, and Repeaters.

Most instructive!

There follows a plea for the miners in Montana
to put down their arms.

“”I promise Absolute Amnesty if you act within
twenty-four hours!”

Naturally, we praise his generosity, and of course,
allude to the Queen’s lovely prayer for the miners’
wives and children!”

Running as a banner across the bottom of the screen
as we again speak of the irrepressible Rascal!

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Tuesday, May 03, 2016


Convention Strategy

-Are the ducks on the pond?

-In as much order as one could expect.

-But, will they quack?

-The feed was proper, if excessive.

-I'm...sensing a monstrous injustice!

-Our brand.

-Done to the leader in votes, but, hardly, pedigree.

-Here today, gone to-

-Answering all my prayers! But...his murderous

-They must learn that a Convention is not a

-Neither is a Democracy.

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Monday, May 02, 2016


What’s It Worth?

-Your erratic guy just gave a “Foreign
Policy” Address. Excuse me while
I laugh.

-It’s not Trump’s fault that its all
of it a phony bag of shit!

-He has found the Promised Land!

-Well, he does...have an idea or two!

-In the Land of the Blind, the one-eyed...?

-Something like that. Anyway, he’s here to scrub
the wretched, filthy stables!

-Too much ancient imagery for me...
from both of us. Not worth it!

-The game is not worth the candle?

-There you go again!

-What else is there to do?

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Sunday, May 01, 2016


Reality Show

-Sick of Cynthia’s hemming and hawing!

-And especially her Bum of the Month?

-That mostly, so we stage a reality show
for her.

-Pick Your Husband!

-How did you know?

-Vast experience in barroom hazes.

-Stop right there! We all stay sober. Even hire
a  professional MC.

-And the candidates ARE?

-John the Bouncer-Poet.

-Quite a longshot he!

-Harley the motorcycle guy.

-Outa jail again?

-Cut his hair too! And Max the Professor,
AND! Max the Accountant.

-Extensively degreed, both!

-At the other end, Lettuce, the Farmer.

-Does he deliver to Whole Foods?

-Almost exclusively.

-Completes the cast?

-Save for Sammy Suck-Around, with her since
grammar school!

-Then let’s get on with it!

-Each glows! In bloated intro of the MC! Some accept shyly,
others add disgusting detail.

-Dog and Pony Show!

-But such a prize! The much more than camera-ready Cynthia!

-Finally, finally, chooses one?

-We wake up Piano Man, and he pounds out ragtime suspense chords!

-And the winner IS!

-You’d never guess.

-I see Max the Accountant as the most bizarre, thus probable.

-Good guess. Uh, orate again?

-And the winner IS!

-The MC!


-Leaves with him--both coiffed approximately the same.

-Unfair! Beauties already clog the market in Show Business!

-Marrieds live in Jersey City now. He wanted to be close to
the dog food factory he’s spokesman for.

-And they say Method-Acting is dead!

-She dresses as a Yellow Lab when they tour.

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