Trump … The Final Scene … I had a dream …

Dateline 2030 … Moscow … RT and Fox News exclusive … invitations sent worldwide.

Trump Tower Moscow lobby … a Russian flag and MAGA hat draped casket lies “in state” … closed.

Full military dressed dictators and ruling strongmen sit in the front rows … no “s**t hole countries” invited.

The crowd gasps … Trump, dressed in his personal powder-blue-fake-military-uniform, rips through the top of his casket … non sequiturs stream from his mouth … he’s shouting “No collusion” … “No collusion!”

His pale chubby little fingers bang at his cell phone sending posthumous tweets as he staggers stiffed legged Zombielike through his hotel’s faux gold lobby.


Putin leaps to his feet and exclaims, “There’s no way we can stop him.”

When asked if US tax payers were on the hook for “Dead Donald’s Presidential Tweets,” Putin retorted, “Someone’s gotta pay.  We ain’t a bunch of Socialists.”


The Javankas are represented by Ivanka … free after her 48 month sentence in a federal pen.

Jared has 3 more years to go … but was granted permission to view the funeral on a special prison feed.


Back in the USA … actors in the longest running sitcom since “Big Bang Theory” … “At Home with the Conways” in its 10th consecutive season of live broadcasts … paused for 30 seconds of reverential silence.

Kellyanne, her head bowed, listens as husband George reads his final tweet to the audience … “Finally, our long national nightmare is over.”


Mika and Joe … newly crowned MSNBC Hall of Fame Pundits … break from their torrid on set pseudo-coital gazes just long enough to disavow any attempt on their part to posthumously further the myth of Donald Trump.

Joe reminds everyone … “Way back in 2015, we were the first to disavow Trump’s suitability for public office.”

Fake News Banners immediately stream across the bottom of television screens.


Fox and Friends sit glumly on their now tattered 2019 couch … dabbing faux tears … wondering aloud about their ratings if the Ex-President cannot somehow continue his constant diatribes.

They’re praying as loud as mullahs in the mosques for Trump to find the cosmic energy to continue his tweets from beyond the grave.


In his Delaware home … Joe Biden struggles to his feet and faces cameras … “I’m seriously considering my candidacy for 2032 … all indications are positive … I’ve finally outlived everyone who remembers my atrocious voting record.

“I’m the only candidate who can win … I promise you … this time it’s for real!”


Suddenly I get that middle-of-the-night-urge … wakeup and trundle to the bathroom.

Just sayin’ …

“Sex, Lies and Video Tape” What not to do while staying at Mar-a-Lago

Thanks to the wonder of the Internet, everyone now knows of curious and nefarious links between Florida’s Orchids of Asia Spa … its founder Li “Cindy” Yang … and Palm Beach’s  Mar-a-Lago … and its owner President (aargh I hate to say that) Trump.

As a dues paying member of the elite Mar-a-Lago greed obsessed set, Li Yang,  apparently star struck, posted a selfie … Trump prominent in the background … at the Mar-a-Lago 2019 Super Bowl LIII party.

Meanwhile, no one seemed to notice how loosey-goosey and relaxed Patriot’s owner Bob Kraft appeared in his owner’s box at the big game.

It wasn’t obvious what his elixir of calm was … but it wasn’t about a “drug of choice.”

According to the “instant replay and the video tape,” Kraft apparently participated in an “au naturel $59.95 Happy Ending” … offered at Orchids earlier that same day.

Sadly for those of a slimey disposition, a discount package for the “Full and Complete Services” offered by Orchids … including free transportation … is no longer listed on the Mar-a-Lago handout … “Things to do during your Mar-a-Lago stay.”

After the story about Kraft broke, one Patriot’s player said that Kraft pulled a Mafia styled disappearing act … or maybe a “Where’s Krafto?”


Not satisfied with potential investigations for human trafficking, prostitution, kidnapping, tax evasion and money laundering … an undaunted Li Yang expanded her business endeavors by apparently setting up “Biz Meets” with ‘45 using her personal China connections.

For a fee … of course.

The legality of her “Trump connection business” is now under investigation … along with a host of Manafort-like schemes … referred to in the halls of the DOJ as the “Full Manafort Fraud Package.”

Sniff … sniff!  The stench of the intertwined DC Swamp Swimmers ’45 promised to get rid of reaches all the way to Florida’s East Coast.


I’m just waiting to see ‘45’s name in print next to Jeffrey Epstein’s after the re-investigation of Epstein’s sex trafficking and serial child molesting West Palm Beach legal debacle.

To get the latest on those “party sex-oramas” involving the rich and infamous with under aged girls … just ask Dr. Google about “Alexander Acosta” … the ex-federal prosecutor who let Epstein and others walk … who is now a member of ‘45’s Cabinet … and  who may soon join other Trumpites looking at us from behind bars.

And the cells?  They’re getting crowded … Karma really is a Bitch!

Just sayin’ …

Stalin… Pickup Trucks … Socialism … Hamberders The Green New Deal

What’s green, new, backed by the first year democrats, and has the GOP scared outta their geriatric skin-folds?

It’s the Green New Deal (GND) … initiated by AOC and the “Wild Bunch” who’ve hit DC shakin’, rattlin’ and rollin’.

They have ideas … they’re impatient and expressing themselves “out of order” …  they’re not “doing their time” in Congress first.

They skipped the “Old White Male Rules of Congress” … lovingly referred to as the “OWM” … a copy of which was in their orientation pack.

And, guess what?  They’re not gonna read it … except in the bathroom … and only for Yuks!


As soon as AOC went public with her Green New Deal, she was attacked with a barrage of well researched, scientific, economic, and political theories based on solid reason and deep thought.

Say what?


Mitch “The 5th Ninja Turtle” McConnell plans to rush the GND to the senate floor where he hopes all 2020 presidential candidates will vote “Aye” … and self-immolate right in front of their senate desks.

Hey “Ninja Mitch,” are you aware that 58%-65% of all American voters support doing something about the disastrous effects of climate change and treating it as  “reality” … not “Reality TV?”

Say what?


Meanwhile our “Liar-Liar-Pants-on-Fire” White House Tenant addressed CPAC and attacked the GND with this literate barb … “No planes.  No energy.  When the wind stops blowing, that’s the end of your electric” … later claiming “they want to take your car.”

When a massive study conducted by his own administration publicly stated that climate change poses a dire way-to-near-term threat to our future … the WH Tenant dismissed it with, “I don’t believe it.”

Say what?


Claims that DNC socialists are playing into Stalin’s hands … the “cold dead ones” … and want to take away your pickup trucks and “hamberders” … a reference to methane farting cattle … one GOP “Funditz” compared the GND to a watermelon … “green on the outside … deep, deep communist red on the inside.”

Say, what?


A Fox News contributor … yet another oxymoron guilty of moronic thinking … claimed that the “GND would lead to cannibalism … because we could only eat carrots and lettuce.”

Say, what?


Not to be outdone, “Happy-go-Lucky” Ted Cruz … the new GOP standup comic star … quipped that he hoped PETA would support the GOP now that the DNC wants to kill our cows.

Ha, ha, Ted … PETA’s already all over your killin’-‘em-with-pain-slaughter-house farms … watch out what you wish for!

Just sayin’ …

Do I “Spark Joy?”

There’s a seismic shift in the works at our house.

Doesn’t have anything to do with tweeting … new presidential candidates joining the fray … border walls, barriers, slats or fences … New Green Deals or Green New Deals … Bezos’ genitalia or Robert Kraft’s sexual predicament.


It does have to do with “the best gifts come in small packages” … and this one definitely does.

Say “kon’nichiwa” to the diminutive lady from Japan who has lit a fire in our house … and houses across the nation, too.

Her name’s Marie Kondo … her code name’s “KonMari” … she’s become the “Tidying-Up Goddess” of America … and has introduced her Shinto-Japanese art of de-cluttering and organizing to our western world of stuff addiction.

It involves “sparking joy!”


According to the Goddess of Minimalism, it’s all about reversing your process of living.

Say what?

You’re telling me my happiness now requires that I throw my personal P-R-N-D-L into reverse?  Why not just tell me to stand on my head while juggling eggs!

That’ll give me a new perspective … on cleaning up.

But … like all “I’ve-got-the-answer-you-didn’t-know-you-were-looking-for” gurus, Kondo reassures us that it’s really very simple.


Hey … this isn’t my first rodeo … I’ve moved 12 times and I’ve got no problem tossing stuff into the ever growing landfills of American Consumerism.

In my mind, it’s just “stuff.”

Enter KonMari … and with one phrase she confronts the eternal question:  “What stuff gets pitched?”


Marie Kondo says it isn’t just throwing stuff away.

The KonMari process is all about selecting the stuff that stays … and in the process transforming your environment from living amidst mind clogging stuff that needs to be dusted … tripped over … vacuumed … into only the stuff that “brings you joy.”


You can forget the dumpster exercise when you ask yourself a seemingly simple question … “Does this possession bring me joy?”

If “Yes” … it’s earned an honored place in your world.  If “No” … thank it for its service and send it to someone who may “find joy” in it.

You’ve now created an environment where you dust and fuss less … and enjoy more.  You’re now in KonMari’s win-win world.


Oh … BTW, you might want to make sure you’re a “Personal Joy Sparker” in your newly clean and de-cluttered home.

That way you won’t find yourself in a bag destined for the local Thrift Shop … or standing outside peeking through the window with a forlorn ”not-sparking-joy-look” on your face.

Just sayin’ …

Range Wars: “Mama, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys …”

1954 … Saturday … I hop my bike and pedal to the theater for the Matinee and a box of Milk Duds.

It’s a western … a Range War … between the ranchers who want wide open grazing lands and the sheep herders … the “nesters” … who want fences to keep their sheep from wandering.

The cowboys hate the nesters … beat ‘em up whenever they see ‘em … sometimes kill ‘em.

The white-hatted-hero appears … singlehandedly guns down a bunch of black-hatted-cowboys … rescues the sheepherder’s daughter … settles down with her to raise sheep and no longer roams the Wild West.

The Range War’s over … and the cowboys lost.


2019 … the ranchers … now called cattlemen … are up-in-arms again.

This time it’s not sheepherders … this time they’ve declared war on those damn vegans and vegetarians.

It’s all about their “meatless meat” … tastes like meat, smells like meat, cooks like meat … but is plant based and “meat free.”

If this “meatless meat” catches on … what’s gonna happen with all their damn methane-farting-Beevees?

Yep … it’s a modern Range War … but nowadays cowboys can’t gallop down supermarket aisles blasting away at poor hapless “meatless meat eaters.”


So this war’s being fought in the courts.

And they’re arguing over … “When is meat not a meat?”

The cowboys say … you can’t use our word for “meat” … which is “meat” … especially since your “meat” doesn’t have any “meat” in it.

Uhh … listen up, cowboys … that’s hardly a bumper sticker slogan … and definitely not suitable for the ass end of a Beevee!

You need a little old lady yelling, “Whar’s the beef?”  But Wendy’s beat you to that.


And you need to pay attention to inconvenient but binding legal precedent … the dairymen already sued over “milk” when they took the nut growers to court and said, “We own milk.”  Your almonds aren’t “milk.”  You can’t “milk an almond.”  You can call it almond anything … but not Almond “Milk.”

Hmm, last time I was hunting and gathering in the grocery store, I saw Almond “Milk” still for sale.  Appears that’s another war that didn’t work so well for ya.


Plant eaters may not look rough and tough … but then neither did the nesters or the nut farmers.  And you didn’t exactly mop up the Wild West when you declared war on them.

You might want to reconsider your little “Plant Eater War” and turn to raising fartless-methane-free-Beeves.

The atmosphere would thank you … and you wouldn’t be seen as a wild bunch of thoughtless thugs picking on plant-loving humans.

Just sayin’ …

What’s Valentine’s Day without “SweetHearts?”


Next Thursday’s Valentine’s Day.  Do you want the VDay good news … or the VDay bad news first?

To Hell with it … you get the bad news first.

Necco … makers of Sweetheart candies is gonzo … kaput … bankrupt.

Their small candy hearts … the ones that are so hard they break your teeth, taste like sidewalk chalk, and come imprinted with those dumbass sayings like “Love Bug” … will be hard to find on the shelves for VDay 2019.

And if you can believe it … they’ll taste even worse because the last production run was late July 2018 … “The Day the Necco Died!”

To add insult to injury since they’re now “collector’s items” … they’ll cost you a small candy-fortune … over $20/pound.


Now … for the good news.

Necco was purchased by the same investment group that brought Hostess Foods’ venerable Twinkies back from the dead … which they turned into a billion dollar nationwide diabetes and obesity feeder.

And they’re promising that the totally inedible little SweetHearts … which rank worse on the “Bad-Seasonal-Candy-Scale” than Halloween candy corn and Easter Peeps … will make a Twinkie sized comeback for VDay 2020.

Who said Capitalists don’t have “hearts?”


So … for those of you who are complete losers and have so little imagination that you rely on SweetHearts for your Sweet Heart … you’re SOL … S**t Outta Luck for VDay 2019!

Here’s a Seriously Absurd endorsed strategy.

If you’re able to score SweetHearts … and your Sweetie is “date code” conscious … take them outta the package and tie them in little bundles with cutesy curly red ribbon.

Then as a kick-off to an entertaining “Day of Love” … stage a “Sweet Heart SweetHearts Treasure Hunt” as a start to your VDay.

If your Love is a bit skeptical, incentivize her on this “Love T-Hunt” with cold champagne at each hidey spot.

With any luck and enough SweetHeart bundles … she’ll be drunky-poo by the end of the hunt and either fall asleep … or lucky you … be raring to go for VDay romp in the rose petals.


If you have any sense and a creative bone in your body … salacious pun intended … try this DIY VDay extravaganza.

Bake a batch of small’ish heart shaped cookies and decorate each cookie with your own version of SweetHearts “love-slogans.”

Just remember … we’re in the “Me,Too” era.

So cute little references to “grabbing genitalia,” “how about a threesome” or references to “50 Shades of Grey” … probably won’t help you reach your VDay goal.

Just sayin’ …

Hey Kale … I can finally kiss your raggedy ass goodbye!

Kale No! … say “Sayanora” to your privileged position as the go-to Super Food.  One punch to the gut and you fold like private-store-label cheap-frozen-spinach.

So much for being a “trend setter.”  In the history of food ranking, you’re the “Mooch” as the King of Foods!

Hope you like your new space on the bottom shelf of the veggie aisle … right next to the rutabaga!  Jeff Bezos and Whole Foods will toss you outta his store in a matter of weeks.

You won’t hear micro-managing super moms begging their over-privileged kids to “Eat your Kale, Aiden/Avery!  Don’t you want to grow up big and strong … and CEO of a Fortune 100 corporation?”


Kale’s gone as a tier-one-healthy-food and Seriously Absurd’s banging the drums announcing its demise!

In fact … Seriously Absurd’s stumbled on some fantastic food news … there’s no kale in sight in the top 10 trending Super Foods.

Millenials are thrilled ‘cause their penchant for “avocado everythings” is paying off.  Avocado ranks #2 in the top ten.

Even though they have more potassium in them than bananas, you won’t catch me dropping a “glob-o-quac” in my A.M. cereal or oatmeal.

Fermented foods sit atop the list.  That’s really great news ‘cause I just remembered that beer’s fermented … so beer’s gonna be one of my new “go to Super Foods.”

Thank the gods I’ve found a replacement for all that kale I’ve never eaten.


If it’s protein you’re after … and you want to reduce your carbon footprint … scoop up a batch of crickets!

If you can’t get past crunching down on a mouthful of Jimminy Cricket’s distant cousins … grab your Vitamix … throw a handful of the little buggers in … add some new Super Food beets and Kombucha.

Viola … you have a Super Food powered-up “Purple Rain Smoothie” that would make Prince proud … ‘cept he’s dead!

Personally I’m partial to adult beverages … my fave being 6-8 Jimminys-on-a-cocktail-pick, vodka, a drop of Vermouth, a squeeze of lime … shake it and you have a Jimminy Cricketini!  The healthiest cocktail you’ll ever throw down your hatch!

How great’s that?


And … I’m already in touch with that idiot CEO of Chick-fill-a … Dan T. Cathy.

A few years ago he swapped out their best selling coleslaw and climbed on the kale bandwagon … which I knew all along was just a bogus fad … and substituted a Super Food side combo of kale and broccolini … talk about a disgusting Food Flop!

Hey … not everybody’s a winner.

Just sayin’ …

“Not in my House!”

(“President” Trump refuses to address House Speaker Nancy Pelosi using her title.  He refers to her as “Nancy,” which is just another indication of his denigration of powerful women … so we should address him as “Donny” … instead of my usual … “s**t-for-brains.”)


Well … it’s settled!

There’ll be no presidential delivery of the State of the Union Address until the Union is once again … unified … open for government business … providing security, support and services for its people.

It’s because Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi has gone where no Republican dared to go …  she stood her ground against our current tantrum-throwing-temporary-tenant in the tax payers’ White House.

OMG, Donny … where’s Paul “Gutless-Trumpass-Kissing” Ryan when you want him?


And when … acting like a petulant 5-year you tried to barge into her House uninvited … Mama Pelosi jerked you up by your size XXXX tighty-whities.

“Swoosh” … was that a “Presidential Wedgie?”

“Whoa!” commanded Speaker Pelosi as she issued her “Address Diss-Invitation” to Donny.

And just like every competent mom when faced with an unruly child, she followed her initial command with a firm, “Hold your horses, Buster!”

Clearly Nancy let Donny know that she’s the “new sheriff in town.”

And according to that pesky ole historical document called “The Constitution” … the House is her domain and she has every bit as much power in our government as he does!


Now we can say, “Hi, Donny … welcome to your first lesson in middle school Civics … the one where you should’ve learned about the “checks and balances of our federal government.”

And Donny … guess what?  You’ve just been “checked and balanced” by Nancy.


Oh … and when she does invite you to deliver The State of the Union Address in the House Chamber … the surprise in the “Nancy Cake” isn’t gonna be a “pop-up-porn-star.”

It’s gonna be a House packed with invited guests representing the 800,000+ federal employees you personally furloughed, made work without pay, and buried under mountains of stress and anxiety as part of your personal reality TV series.

Episode 1 – “My Government Shutdown … Episode 2 – “The Buck Stops on Someone Else’s Desk” … Episode 3 – “Where’s Mitch?” … Episode 4 – “Soup Kitchen Food’s Good for you” … and Episode 5 – “Might be Canceled?”


Oh … one additional bit of advice … Nancy Pelosi is Speaker of the House.  That would be Her House … and a co-equal branch of our government.

Addressing her as “Madam Speaker” might just be a good idea if you want to keep the keys to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

Just sayin’ …

Screw the gym … visit the “body shop!”

Okay … Okay … I’ve decided to hang ‘em up.  Quit.  Just let things go their natural way.

Life’s too short to continue this self-perpetuated myth that I could work my way into an Adonis … a Fabio … or even a Francois Henri “Jack” LaLanne … the Guru of American Fitness.

I’ve burned my gym cards … despite their New Year’s resolution inspired “Reclaim-Yourself-Money-Savings-Deals” that arrive daily in my mailbox … I’m not biting.

I’ve walked away from the promises of fab abs!

“Gyms … you’re headed down that failed retail tube with Pennys, Sears, & Toys “Were” Us.


Maybe I set my personal goals too high.

After thinking about it, Moe, Larry or Curly would’ve been better role models!

I know I’d have more coinage in my pockets if I hadn’t purchased a plethora of “workout” machines and bounced from gym-to-gym … always looking for maximum benefit and minimum effort.

Anyway … who was the Bozo who thought calling them “workout” machines was such a good idea?

I’m thinking a “Beerout Machine” … or maybe a “Sleepout” … definitely a “Couchout” or a “Reclinerout.”   Much better branding.

But “Oh-non-exercisers-of-my life” … hold onto your dreams … you can now buy-your-body … without “body work!”

Move over Spanx … there’re new kids in the ‘hood!


Body Maxx assures me that I’ll see a difference in just 14 days of “detox” when I use their waist slimmer with body fat burning products.  That’s the ticket!

Eat my way to those six-pack abs!

Strap on this deluxe Middle-Ages-looking-torture-device and wander around my house … eatin’ and sippin’ and nappin’ my way to maga-mega-abs!


Great for the front of you … “butt,” when you turn yourself around and shake that “booty” will you be … “Booty Shamed?”

No way … if you buy the full treatment of Bawdy Beauty Butt Masks!

Get the Galaxy Kit and you can “Shake it” … “Slap it” … “Bite it” … or “Squeeze it” into a well toned and finely sculpted butt!

No more stair climbers, uphill treadmills … get the butt you’ve always wanted … and don’t sweat it!


To show off your store-bought-bod … you’ve got to learn to pose so your “work’s appreciated.”

Practice the “wipe-the-sweat-off-your-brow-shirt-lift” to expose your rippling abs.  Perfect your “arm-cross-chest-fold” to accentuate your biceps and forearms.

And don’t forget to invest in those tight-thigh-hugger workout shorts so when you walk, your flexed quads bulge through the stretchy thin material.


I think I’m ready for the New Year … and I’m not wastin’ time in the gym!

Just sayin’ …

Old Fogey Tut-tuts?

Oops … there aren’t enough bathrooms.  And …

They dress differently … act differently.

They’re not “respectful” … especially their language.

They don’t understand their roles … their places … they try to get ahead without serving their time.

They don’t understand … that’s not the way we do it here.

Who are “they?”

They’re the new women on the block … or rather, in the House … and the Senate!


In one instance, a new House member was told by an elevator operator when she entered, that “the elevator was reserved for members of Congress only.”

Evidently her dressed-down appearance coupled with her gold sneakers wasn’t the haute couture the operator was accustomed to seeing on his elevator for “the gods of Congress.”

Oh well … we learned in the ‘60s with long hair, no bras, facial hair and bare feet … that our appearance did not always meet the standards of those who controlled the access barriers … like elevators … or classrooms … or churches … or government buildings.


And there’s that ubiquitous “language barrier” … frequently used to keep newcomers in their places.

That one was smashed like a jet breaking the sound barrier when yet another new female … at a private fund raiser … uttered the MF word applied to our current temporary White House resident.

Don’t ya know the tongues wagged on the Hill with that major wash-your-mouth- out-with-soap faux pas … in spite of the potty mouthed expletives that roar out of the sewer mouth of DJT … that’s Donald John Trump.

At least she’s from Michigan and not some “s**t hole country.”


Oh my … we move right on to that “Dancing Rep” … Alexandria Acasio-Cortez … who thankfully has shortened her moniker to a catchier and easier … “AOC.”

Her detractors thought it would be clever to expose her dancing style and technique to the alt-right … who’er still struggling to master a Lawrence Welk polka.

Shades of blocking the lower part of our TV screens when Elvis Presley hit the stage!  It’s the Devil’s Dance … that’s what it is!

I guess the evil of swiveling hips will cause brain damage to those madcap-MAGA-hatted Trump voters if exposed to the likes of AOC dancing in the House!


Yep … it’s time to make way for the newcomers on the scene.

Time for change.

And finally time to add more women’s bathrooms to the antiquated House.


I bet you never thought I could make an “infrastructure reference” in this!

Just sayin …’