Cereal Killers, Anyone?

I’ve decided that the best source for our political news nowadays is a digital stroll through Dr. Google’s cereal aisle searching … “political humor cereal.”

Most of the political news and problems we face today can be analyzed, understood and quite possibly resolved if we were to carefully study political cereals.

To hell with civics … screw history … fugedabout poli sci … open your mind to the world’s best literature … and flip-the-bird to the nutrition information that’s poisoned your brain.

Political cereals hold the answer to all our questions … and to the questions we’ve never ever even dreamed about.

Fix yourself a cocktail, kick-off your shoes and settle in for a good reading session.

It ain’t just Corn Flakes anymore, folks!

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Name your political party … choose your candidate … don’t limit yourself to General Bullmoose’s US of A.  Cereal boxes promote political faces and positions from all over the world.

Well … not Idi Amin … but definitely the Royals, Saudis, the French, and other world influencers who all have their own cereal lines.

Be sure to check out the current Cap’n Trump … or Trumpies … or my faves, Grope Nuts with you-know-who’s orangey face on the box.  Then there’s the old standby for you “flake holdouts” … Trump Flakes which offer a written promise to be “really, really rich in nutrients.”

Just so I’m not accused of single party bias … you have to try a box of Prix … the cereal for Silly Liberals…not Silly Rabbits.

Instead of their trademark rabbit,” Prix features head shots of Teddy “Yes-I’m-dead-but-I-still-scare-Right-Wing-Nuts” Kennedy, Nancy “I’ve-got-Trump’s-Nuts-in-my-iron-fist” Pelosi and Hillary “I-can’t-believe-he-still-talks-about-me” Clinton … hawking their Prix “liberally sugar coated bulls**t puffs” … which “come with more taxes” … and “free stem cells inside!”

And … you won’t believe what Obama O’s had to offer … “Hope in every bowl!”  Or McCain-i-O’s … going after the Evangelical vote … advertised “now with enriched Jesus stuff!”

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Breakfast cereals aren’t limiting themselves to politics only.

Rumors abound that the fastest growing genre in literature is “Cereal Box Lit.”  It’s perfect for people who don’t read, don’t have time to read, or are eternal ADHD sufferers.

Officials for the Nobel Prize in Literature allegedly are considering “C-B-L” as a new category for their prestigious prize.

To quote an anonymous Nobel source, “If we can recognize Bob Dylan as a ‘Literary Giant’ we can certainly give a hard look at Cereal Box Lit as a legitimate Nobel category.”

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What I know is … I really, really miss Euell Gibbons … Grape Nuts’ undisputed “King of Cereal Spokespeople.”

Just sayin’ …

The Checkout Trap … “Danger, Will Robinson, danger!”

I’d finished shopping … and was in a hurry to get home.

Only three “live cashiers” were open … all with lines that rivaled last chance sales on a Mega-Buck-Power-Ball-Night!

I made an executive decision and inched fearfully toward the dreaded … “Self-Check-Out-Lanes.”

How hard could it be?  After a few mishaps … I “became one with ATMs.”  Even we Luddites are trainable!

I pushed my cart up to a station.

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A way-too-loud-and-Rude-Robotic-Voice blared … “Please scan your first item.”

I started simple.

I scanned a can … a task millions of cashiers mastered with a flip of their wrist … smiling and chatting at the same time.

Swish went my can.

Immediately the Rude-Robotic-Voice barked … “Remove the item from the scanner” … I jumped and complied … what’s with this dude?

I grabbed my first produce item … gingerly placed it on the scanner.

I’m instructed to “Look up the item on the screen.”  Fortunately bananas are easy to spot … I touched the screen and removed the bananas before being chided for my tardiness.

Success was ephemeral … I was ordered to “Please re-scan your item” with the clear sub-textual implication … “You Effing Moron.”  I re-scanned it, quickly removing it before Herr Scanner went on a another rant.  The pressure was mounting …

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Sweat beaded up on my brow … I had three leeks banded together in a bunch.

They weren’t showing up on the screen.  I glanced around and noticed someone “swiping” their screen … it flipped to another page … I did that and voila … there’s a leek … I poked the screen.

Rude-Robot-Voice told me … “Enter the number of items.”

Well … there’re three leeks … but one bunch.  So I punched “3” and immediately saw I’d paid over eight dollars for my leeks.

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I looked around for the “Self-Checkout-Rescue-Agent” … but another surprise, surprise … no one was there to rescue me.

In fact, I saw three other pissed-off people in front of their Rude Robots punching buttons and receiving loud rude messages in return!

I made another executive decision … and finished my order.

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Instead of going home I headed over to “Customer Dis-Service” … and waited the mandatory 15 minutes.

My receipt fortunately decided to stay with me and not lose itself in whatever alien territory important receipts went … so I showed it to the human-type-person behind the counter.

She smiled … then reassured me I was not the only guy who overpaid for leeks … refunded my money and told me … “Have a good one!”

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I was much happier after human contact … though I’d never been able to figure out just what “Good One” I was supposed to have.

I didn’t ask her … I left with my leeks, money, personal contact … and in search of my own “Good One.”

Just sayin’ …

The dirtiest word … the “I-Word”

We all know there’s an Aderall-addicted-tantrum-prone-narcissistic-preschooler currently running the White House … but now we’ve sunk to a new low!

To placate this spooked apparition of a President, our elected officials … and non-news-pundits … have taken to using what they refer to as … the “I-Word!”

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Uh-oh … I flashback to a scene in my less than stellar days as a 5-year old.

My parents whispered about something I did … or did not do … and they didn’t want me to know what they were talking about.

They looked at each other … mom’s arms flapping exasperated … dad with his hands on his hips perplexed … me wondering what atrocity I’d committed and waiting to see whether I was sentenced to … No dessert … No playtime … My mouth washed out with soap … Or ideally, just sent to my room.

I vaguely recalled hearing … “He used the ‘S-Word.’”

The “S-Word” is one thing … but aren’t we adults now … or at least some of us?

What’s with this “I-Word” s**t?

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So I turned to the “new digital thesaurus-at-my-fingertips” … Dr. Google … and searched for words that begin with “I.”

Holy S-Word … there are 35,979 words that start with “I.”

I searched 4-letter words … which are my vocab strength … hoping I’d unearth the “I-Word” these erudite duly elected federal representatives were refusing to utter!

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The dirtiest 4-letter word I could find was “isba” … a “Russian log cabin.”

I’m kinda thinking that anything Russian could set off an early AM tweet-storm-rant-riot … but I don’t think “isba” is the I-Word of the day.

Immigration and infrastructure start with an “I” … and they both represent disastrous attempts at governance by our Liar-in-Chief.  Nope … not them.

Integrationist?  Nah … they would have used the “WS-Words” instead … “White Supremacist.”

I discounted “inalienable” because that’s a word that appears in our Declaration of Independence … a totally unfamiliar document to “His Ignorancy” … our President.

After an exhaustive run through the 35,979 I-Words, I hit on the one that seemed to fit our current situation.

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I-M-P-E-A-C-H-M-E-N-T … an 11-letter word that any middle or high school student who has completed Civics would know.

So how does our Leader of the Free World define the “I-Word?”  At a recent Press Gaggle he said, “It’s a dirty, filthy and disgusting word.”

Hmm … I’m thinking he was projecting his own behavior on this poor truly innocent I-Word.

Just sayin’ …

National Trump of July Party … “Hold that date!”

He couldn’t have his “toy soldier parade” … so he executed a hostile takeover of our national July 4th celebration … “Welcome to the Trump of July Party!”

You may soon know him as “Generalissimo Donaldo” … the guy who’s taking us below the level of an overripe-near-rotten Banana Republic … and maybe to the level of his much disrespected “S**t Hole Countries.”

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Surprisingly … D.C. taxpayers have been spared.

No tanks … armored vehicles … battalions of marching soldiers … trucks pulling long range missiles to prove El Donaldo’s red button’s bigger than Kim’s.

According to West Wingers … planning his “Trump-centered-biggest-ever-blowout-campaign-rally” has dragged El Donaldo away from binge watching cable news.

A recent screaming tweet from El Generalissimo himself … “Americans should “HOLD THE DATE!” on July 4 for a “Major fireworks display, entertainment and an address by your favorite President, me!”

What?  A speech from the Lincoln Memorial?  Poor Abe … his head’s gotta be spinning in his grave faster than Linda Blair’s in “The Exorcist.”

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Meanwhile, Seriously Absurd has learned that …

A burgeoning new program at Georgetown School of Law … “US Political Felony Law” … plans an “in-the-field-seminar” at the rally so students can witness real-time violations in campaign finance … the emoluments clause … and obstruction of justice as a result of El Generalissimo’s participation in what has been an annual “kum ba yah” event for all Americans.

According to AG Bill “Yes-I-Kiss-His-Ass-Nightly” Barr … “We will declare Georgetown ineligible for any federal funding as soon as Generalissimo Donaldo tells us why!”

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Plus … George Sorros has reserved every available room at Trump’s D. C. International Hotel for the weekend … for a “Yuuge and Biggly Dem Rally!”

All current Democratic presidential candidates have been invited to attend and “work the crowd” at an “Elect (Fill-in-a-Nominee-Here) Rally” held in Trump’s pride … the hotel’s Benjamin Bar and Lounge.

According to Eric “Please-Please-Someone-Call-Me-as-a-Witness” Trump … “I’ve asked Dad to deploy US troops to seal off the Ben Bar.  If we can send 120,000 troops to kick Iran’s ass … I’m sure we can spare a coupla’ hundred to repel a few Demo-rats!”

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And this just in … Kim has loaned his personal binoculars for Donaldo’s observation of the “100% made in China fireworks” extravaganza.

Also … China’s Xi Jinping, aka … “I’m-President-for-Life-and-You’re-Not” … has offered to personally pay the 25% Trump Tariff War up-charge levied on the fireworks.

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It’s tough being “El Generalissimo” … with no respect!

Just sayin’ …

Free Gourmet Meal … Tales from Junk-mail-land

I confess … I’m a “Junk Mail Junkie!”

I sort through and actually read what people have been kind enough to send to me.

Reading junk mail’s way more fun than reading online comments by Truck-Stop-Interstate-Traveler-Critics about the quality of American truck stop food … and then responding by touting truck stop food as one of my favorites.

The fact that I don’t eat in any truck stops is immaterial.  But I digress …

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In my early junk mail years, I declared a silent war against those who senselessly wasted money and tree killing paper in an attempt to connect with me.

I marked each unopened envelope “Return to Sender” and dropped it back in the box at the post office.

Then junk mailers gained an advantage … they convinced the PO to no longer return any “refused junk mail.”

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Never one to admit defeat … I decided I would read the mail to determine if it could ever be helpful – old blind pigs pick up an ear of corn every now and then … had any entertainment value – some of it’s so bad it’s hilarious … or, gods forbid, any redeeming literary value – a big fat zero.

In some instances … armed with my red pen I edited the writing and returned it … first class.

Occasionally I offered my “editing services” … for a nominal fee … and suggested they might improve their response rate if they hired me to “eliminate the egregious errors in their sloppy writing.”

No one ever responded.

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Now, I’ve added a different dimension to my junk mail war effort.

With the help of “Doctor Google” … the digital purveyor of knowledge that heretofore only the oldest, wisest and nicest librarians possessed … I check on random offers.

With just a few key strokes, I can separate junk mail “wheat from chaff” … the good from the bad … the legit from the illegit.

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My best find was a company that offered me a “Free Gourmet Meal at the Golden Corral.”

If you’re reading the words “gourmet meal” and “Golden Corral” in the same paragraph … you should be immediately suspicious.

I turned to Doc Google … and I found a great big “Emeril BAM!”

The first three items on Google were Better Business Bureau warnings … followed by comments from irate and bitter folks who not only ate the “free gourmet meal” … but also forked over hard earned dollars for the product promoted.

Unfortunately their complaints didn’t include the “gourmet-ness” of the Golden Corral.

Just sayin’ …

“Say Yes to Linzess” … Why?

April was IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome) Awareness Month … say what?  I guess the other 11 months no one “gives a s**t!”

I know this because I was watching TV the other night … and I paid particular attention to the commercials.  Something very few people and no dogs ever do.

That’s when I noticed an ad for Linzess … an irritable bowel-constipation syndrome medication.  A Clio Award for Excellence in Advertising should be given to the Linzess VP of Gastroenterology Marketing for this ad.

They “dare to go where no other agency has gone” … right into our damn bathrooms.

And since we’re now deep in scatology here, we need to insert a “Big Butt” into their marketing message.

As far as Seriously Absurd’s “crack” staff is concerned … it  totally misses the point.

Here’s the “scoop” … or maybe it’s the “poop!”

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Linzess takes us into the bathroom of folks who obviously are quite “stuck up!”

Not only do we get to watch them in action … sitting on the throne in their PJ’s … it’s obvious they’re doing a “number two!”

Yes … taking a dump …  and BTW … that’s gotta be the cleanest bathroom I’ve ever seen!

Then ya gotta ask … “Who actually wears pajama sets today? … What is this?  A 1950’s sitcom with Dick & Laura or Ozzie & Harriet sleeping in twin beds?”

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To bring us into today … the sitter … or do we dare say “s***ter” … then pops off the throne … “flashes” a winning smile … and gives us a Tiger Woods fist pump.

C’mon, man!  That’s a sacred fist pump … part of winning the Masters … throwing a TD pass … hitting a winner at the US Open.  Not for taking a crap!

I know IBS’ers probably think otherwise … but couldn’t we just witness one of their “all knowing little smiles” instead of a fist pump?

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But the “nugget” of their message … OMG I’m having so much “pun-fun” … is that the poor IBS-C sufferer is now “saving time” … a quick dump is obviously something that isn’t part of their “life repertoire.”

Saving time?  WTF?

Read the “Game of Thrones” … yuk-yuk-yuk – pun intended … do the NYT’s Sunday crossword puzzle … or try some of those newer “brain games.”

Turn a problem into an opportunity!

Then you’ll save money … avoid all the horrible side effects … I know I read 100’s of negative comments for Linzess … and fight off dementia or Alzheimer’s by exercising that other end of your anatomy.

Just sayin’ …

The Chicken Foot Wars

The most prized chicken feet in the world are exported from the USA.

Uncle Sam tips his hat to Frank Perdue … creator of the big-breasted-hormone-stuffed-thunder-thighed chicken.

Our “big feet” make a difference.  And the #1 importer of our quadruple E-sized chicken feet is, or rather was … China.

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In a wave of faux-wisdom seeking to destroy world trade agreements and disrupt international business … our current Pretend-President offered up the lowly chicken foot as yet another “Booby Prize” in his “trade-wars-are-easy-to-win” China Trade War … which if you ask our farmers, is a war in which we’re the ones getting “carpet bombed!”

Usually when there’s “world trade talk,” it involves precious metals, petroleum, and Cuban cigars.

But the land mines sinking our current China trade wars are pigs’ feet, tails and snouts … the ubiquitous soy bean … and now the lowly chicken foot!

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And I’ll betcha … aside from a few well-schooled international agri-conomists … none of whom are ever consulted by our “Fine-Feathered-President” … no one in our current administration knew that these products were all important in China trade negotiations.

So thanks to “l‘homme orange,” we now have thousands of pounds of frozen chicken feet stored in our surplus food banks. And our major buyer’s shaking its head “No.”

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A quick peek at Google for the almost world renown, Dr. Babu and you might stumble upon a paper he presented at the International Chicken Foot Exposition … in which he extolled the “Shocking Benefits of Eating Chicken Feet.”

According to the good Doc, chicken feet are rich in collagen, protein, minerals and calcium … which he claims are good for everything from improved digestion, wrinkle removal, healthy gums, reducing stress, to improving bone strength.

You do have to adopt a foot fetish before you can enjoy a bowl of these scrumpdelish though nasty looking taloned body parts that most likely belong in a witch’s caldron.

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Speaking of which … if crunching through a deep fried or stewed chicken foot isn’t your “thing,” there’s an alternative market for the black magic, voodoo, hoodoo, juju properties of dried chicken feet.

When hung in an easily seen open area … dried chicken feet allegedly possess mystic powers … which chase away demons and protect you from theft … and are rumored to scare off Jehovah’s Witnesses and other door-to-door Christians.

As soon as my chicken feet arrive from Haiti … I’m cancelling my security system.

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BTW … who wants to eat feet that have spent their entire earth-time scratching around in chicken s**t?”

Just sayin’ …

What do Trump, the Bible and Easter have in common?

The “Evangies” love him.

His base worships him.

His signed Bibles are selling on E-Bay for $500 a pop … that’s sale price not asking price.

The annual Prayer Breakfast attendees hang on his every word … even when he “prayed” for Arnie Schwarzenegger’s ratings to “go down right through the tubes” for his new role on the Apprentice.

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Trump’s Bible Fave  is “Two Corinthians” … which he confused with Corinthians II … and is usually pronounced “Second Corinthians.”

Referring to his favorite Bible passage “Two Corinthians,” Trump sounds like he’s starting a joke … “Two Corinthians and a candidate for President walk into a bar….”

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When it comes to living by the word of the Good Book, our “Bible Thumper in Chief,” stomps through the Word of God like Civil War General William Sherman marching through Atlanta torching the “Heart of the South.”

Here’s John 3:18 … one of a multitude of Bible references on the value of truth “….let us not love with words or speech, but with actions and in truth….” Hmm.

The truth is … as of March 2019 according to the WAPO … our “Commander in Myth” exceeded the 9,450 mark of “untruths” … which at various times have been explained as misspeaks, alternative facts, misinformed, misinformation, bad information, disagreement on facts … or in some cases flat out denials … even though video reveals the exact words/statements dropping from his lying lips.

That old joke … “Do you know when a lawyer’s lying?  When he opens his mouth!”

An apt description of our fearless bone spurred … “Liar in Chief.”

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As for Easter, our “Commander in Thief” has very little in common with either the Christian or the Pagan versions of this springtime rite of rebirth … new life … being born again … new starts … or even salvation.

Trump has broken nine of the Ten Commandments … and we’re still waiting for the promised murder … “I can shoot someone in the middle of 5th avenue….”

When Jesus said to turn the other cheek, “Spanky in Chief” thought he was totally Christtian based on his Stormy Daniels sex-capade with a rolled-up copy of Forbes magazine!

In that situation one has to ask… “WWJD” … “What Would Jesus Do?”

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Don’t dare ask about the Jesus water-to-wine miracle … we know from wine tasting competitions, that our “Winer in Chief” turns his “fine Virginia wine into water!”

Just sayin’ …

(May your Easter be filled with forgiveness … or chocolate … it’s your choice.)

Holy Trump-o-cados! Trump and the “Party of Guacamole”

It’s anticipated the US will run out of avocados within three weeks from the looming date of the US-Mexico border closing … depriving millions of their beloved guacamole.

If there’s no guacamole, the NFL’s stated … there’s no Super Bowl!

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Avocado futures have sky rocketed as have stocks in companies that produce “non-guac” dips.

As retail prices predictably soar, grocery stores report they’ll arm cashiers and sackers to patrol produce aisles to prevent “Avo-Theft.”  Management’s prepared to hire armed classroom teachers to work after-school-hours.

Produce Managers have been trained to scrape that telltale gray coloring from the top of the packaged guac … redact date codes … then reseal and return packages to the shelves … looking bright green and shiny.

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In Silicone Valley and other Hi Tech centers throughout the US, Millenials plan work slowdowns protesting what they call “this latest insult to the core of our being.”

Speaking for all Millenials, Lance Suckworth stated, “We’re sick and tired of this government’s s**t rolling downhill onto us.

“Student loans … the death of book stores where we could sit and read real books for free … Starbuck’s CEO acting like an ass, and now … no avocados for our avocado toast?

“You’re killing us!  We may as well become Socialists … at least we’d be as happy as they are in Greenland, Iceland and Denmark.”

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Frantic efforts to recreate and reconstruct the avocado’s molecular structure and thus avoid wasted growing time, is a full tilt effort in all federal laboratories.

Even the docs in the Centers for Disease Control have been commandeered.

According to VP Pence, “The Administration’s ordered CDC research docs to stop work on communicable diseases and reassigned them to fight this green tsunami of “Mexican Avo-Terrorism.  A little bit of flu is good for all of us.”

Pence stamped his little feet saying, “We can create the ‘Lab-a-cado!’  The US will not cave in to Terrorists!”

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Earlier in the week in an impromptu press gaggle, ‘45 stated, “The Mexican Haas avocado has always been inferior.  We will become known as the Avocado and Guacamole Nation!

“We’ll have the fattest, yellowest and most nutritious avocados ever made.

“We’ll call it the ‘Trump-a-cado.’  Mothers and babies will love them!

“Trust me on this!”

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Wait a minute … this just in … that crazy bastard Trump just announced that he’ll wait a year before closing the border.

Oh well … now we have a year for the research labs to produce the all new and improved “Lab-a-cado.”

Just sayin’ …

Warning! Warning! We have a “fatberg” in DC

What’s composed of fat, flushed waste … is yuge and biggly, clogs and blocks systems … costs millions of dollars to manage … and it does not temporarily live in the White House?

If you didn’t think I was being truthful and you guessed “You-Know-Who,” then you’d be wrong.

Though they have a lot in common, I was referring to a current 21st century waste management problem … hmm … which also sounds very familiar to our temporary resident in the White House.

We’re talking about a neologism coined in 2013 and added to the Oxford Dictionaries in 2015 … it’s the dreaded “fatberg.”

And apparently no one’s immune to fatbergs … urbanites, suburbanites and “ruralites.”

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If your mind’s not a part of our worldwide sewer system, you might not be aware that a “fatberg” is the mastodon of sewer clogs.  Fuh-ged-about your plumber’s helper plunger on sale for $5.72 at WalMart, as your “tool of choice!”

Think of your own 6” line running from your bathroom(s) to either your septic tank or street side sewer … only bigger … much, much bigger.

The most recent fatberg to make the news was discovered in Sidmouth, England … a heretofore little known seaside town that’s now known more for it’s Leaning Tower of Pisa sized clog of sludge, oil, defecation, Wetwipes, Tampons, condoms, and anything else dimwitted humans choose to flush down the loo.

The Sidmouth behemoth is 210 feet long … longer than six busses lined up.  That’s a lot of s**t!

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Sure the Brits have enough to worry about with Brexit … talk about another type of “clog” in the system.

But the poor Brits aren’t the only ones dealing with this 21st century sci-fi sewer monster.

Baltimore, Denver and NYC also are in the running for world class fatbergs.  In the last five years, Manhattan spent $18,000,000 fighting its fatbergs.

Talk about Whoppers!

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In 2017, a piece of the record breaking 150 ton 820 foot London fatberg was put on display in the Museum of London.

C’mon folks!  No wonder you can’t solve your Brexit problem!

What were you thinking when you put a shoebox sized glob of London sewer s**t on display?

Surprise … surprise … it started growing toxic mold and breeding flies.

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Hmm … I don’t want to gross you out … but maybe we do have hope for what we having clogging up our White House.

Now where did I leave my WalMart plunger?

Just sayin’ …