Get Your Bachelor’s Degree in “Protest Science”

Several “for profit” universities in Flori-duh, a state that generally abhors education, jumped at the opportunity to offer the nation’s first certification degree in “Protest Science.”

Spurred on by the alt-fact observations of the current administration that “all the protests against their agenda are obviously the work of paid professionals,” these money grubbing diploma mills hopped on the “professional protestor bandwagon” to make that observation a truth.

Their goal … replace the disorganized ragtag amateurs with their homemade signs, yelling and monopolizing political gatherings with professional grade state certified paid agitators.

Protest Startups where you can hire from 20 to 200,000 protestors have been springing up faster than the milk weed at Max Yazgur’s old Woodstock dairy farm!

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According to one university president, “Social media’s opened a gold mine for us.  Media outlets are screaming for highly trained professional protestors.  Good protests produce good ratings!

“There’s no question that demonstrations would quickly crash and burn if a constant supply of professionals cannot be supplied.  We must respond to the need!”

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One professor in the School of Protest lamented the passing of “The Birthers of Modern Protest” … Abbie Hoffman, Malcolm X and Betty Friedan.

They would be “Emeriti Faculty” … if they were still alive.  Those folks protested with a “Capital P!”

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Protest Historians observe that American protests actually started with those British outcasts, religious zealots, and paupers … the Pilgrims!

“Those who think our current demonstrators have their roots in so-yesterday’s Tea Party would fail my course,” states Professor James Absolam Brown, a Black-Transgender-Gay-Muslim adopted by mixed-race lesbian parents.

“The Tea Party’s nothing but a bunch of angry old white people watching their world go bye-bye.”

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Classes include the “Basics of Interstate Highway Blockage,” a lab/field experience … a lecture/discussion seminar, “How to Beat your Loan Officer Down to Workable Payments” … and, a required core course, “All the Ways you can Legally Use the F-Word.”

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Speaking from under Harry Potter’s “cloak of invisibility,” a specialized PP (Professional Protestor) head hunter remarked, “The market for PP’s grows exponentially with every tweet our current President sends out … some think, it’s an unlimited job market.”

One university’s newly hired Director of Field Placement, Bobby Lee Bohunk states, “We’ve sent out a bazillion hiring proposals.

“You just never know who’s gonna want to demonstrate against whom … in a trained professional manner.

“We want primo positions and high pay for our licensed-certified graduates.  It’s a lotta work protesting!”

Just sayin’ …

Mother Trumpie Goose

President Thinskin, AKA “L’homme d’orange,” has oozed into almost all of our waking hours … our thoughts … our discussions … and quite possibly that safe place we once held as carefree kids.

Our Mother Goose Land of Make Believe.

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The soon to be released “Trumpie Goose Rhymes,” the must have nightie-night book for all good little Trumpies, will hit the markets soon.

But … don’t expect Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos to make it available as a “Prime” offering.

There also seems to be a family rift with Ivanka and Melania locked in a winner-take-all-clothes-ripping-mud-wrestling battle over publishing rights … i.e. income.

But, with the help of Tom Lloyd, a friend and loyal reader of the “Absurd,” I was lucky enough to purloin a few advance rhymes for your enjoyment.

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Trumpie Dumpty wanted a wall.
Trumpie Dumpty wanted it tall.

But all Mexico’s men and all Mexico’s drug lords
Were too busy building new Dumpty golf courses
And didn’t return Trumpie‘s calls.

So, Trumpie Dumpty got red as a beet,
And, as was his habit he started to Tweet …

“Build me a wall that’s real rootin’ tootin’
Or I’ll deport you all to my Ruskie Pal, Putin.”

Poor Trumpie Dumpty,
He hasn’t a clue.
If he can’t get his wall …
Who knows what he’ll do?

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President Trumpie, quite contrary,
How did you press conference go?
Oh, yuuugely and bigly,
With WAPO and Times reporters
Quietly lined up in a row.

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Simple Trumpie met Pie-man Schummer going to Trump Tower.
Said Simple Trumpie to Pie-man Schummer,
“Sir, show me please your wares.

Said Pie-man Schummer to Simple Trumpie,
“Sir, show me first your tax returns.”

Said Simple Trumpie to Pie-man Schummer,
“Indeed, sir … I don’t pay any.”

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There was an Old Woman, who lived in Trump Tower
And according to Trumpie, complained on the hour.

Said Trumpie to Security, “Evict that old dry Pussy.”

Said Security to Trumpie, “Do your own dirty work …
You Woosie!”

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Little Bo Trumpie lost his Tweeter
And didn’t know where to find it.

Secret Service was quite relieved,
Though Trumpie was royally peeved,
‘Cause they wouldn’t help him to find it.

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Wee Little Trumpie runs through the White House
Upstairs and downstairs in his plush robe.

Rapping on the windows and crying through the locks
“Wake up everybody … it’s now “Tweet O’clock.”

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Hey … you think this is so easy … you try it.
Just sayin’ …

Tom Brady’s Super Bowl Jersey Stolen: Waa, Waa!

Sound the claxons!  Man the battle stations!  Inflate the gates!

A thief moves among the New England Patriots.

In a brazen act, under the cloak of jubilant celebratory chaos, Tom Brady’s #12 Super Bowl game jersey was stolen from the dirty uniform paraphernalia Mr. Terrific stuffed into his “game bag” inside his open locker.

Great zounds … how could this happen to us?

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Last year we struggled with who let the air out of Tom Terrific’s balls … now we have to deal with the angst of his stolen historic fifth Super Bowl win game jersey … valued at a mere half-million dollars … a pittance for the millionaire soon to be billionaire, Brady.

How can we deal with this travesty?  The fate of the Free World hangs in the balance.

Not to worry … the best of the best is working on this crime of the century!

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The Lt. Gov of the great state of Texas has unleashed the full power of the “We-always-get-our-man” Texas Rangers.

No one’s talking about whether that means The Lone Ranger will step in.

But, if he does, you can bet that Tonto will sit this one out.  He’s tied-up with that oil pipeline ravaging his sacred lands … and there’s also the matter of Mr. Brady’s politics.

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Thanks to the Mayor of Houston, the missing jersey’s a top priority for the Houston Police Department … and we know that means … “Houston, we have a problem!”

When the HPD’s charged and ready to go … it’s a “grab your nightsticks and tasers, and don’t forget your guns opportunity!”  Head banging for sure!

They’ve promised to “interview” anyone and everyone who has been in, or close to the Patriot’s locker room.

Watch out you sleazy journalists … we know what police, Presidents and Patriots think of the media.

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And, speaking of Presidents … this just in from The Oval Orifice.

Upon hearing of his new BFF’s tragedy, President Thinskin immediately placed the Star QB’s missing Jersey on the FBI’s “Most Wanted List.”

According to “Fawn Spicer,” a special task force has been assembled.  “It’s the first occasion that NSA spies, CIA Spooks, SS Party Animals and FBI Knuckleheads have all been assigned to solve the same crime.”

According to Spicer, the President views this as “a direct act of Radical Muslim Terrorism sponsored by ISIS, and vows that the Muslims behind this grand theft will be totally destroyed.”

President Thinskin tweeted, “We will not tolerate the invasion of our sacred NFL locker rooms by the Devil’s Spawn!”

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I wonder … could this be a case of “Deflate Gate Ball Boys’ Revenge?”

Just sayin’ …

Bringing Home the Bacon

“To market, to market, to buy a fat pig;
Home again, home again, dancing a jig….”

Thank you, Mother Goose.

Wake up America and smell the bacon!  Wait a minute … hold those hogs!

For two days America was on the brink of a crisis of true Trumpian proportions … not an alt-fact-Reality-TV-cooked-up-crisis!

Angst and agony rampaged through American hearts … especially those hearts cushioned in fat globules.  Coast-to-coast tweets and headlines from news outlets blasted in our breakfast faces: “We’re outta Pork Belly … it’s a crisis of ‘pigumental’ proportions!”

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Meanwhile back at the Oval Orifice, the apocalyptic cabal currently haunting the digs, immediately smelled opportunity!

Slamming USA Today on his desk, President T-Rump screams at his team, “We have nothing to fear except Vegetarians and Vegans … and they’re all Democrats … wouldn’t vote for me anyway!

“I’ll sign an immediate Executive Order … ‘Save America’s Bacon!’”

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Puppeteer-in-Chief Bannon, without disturbing an orange hair, whispers in T-Rump’s ear, “It’s a crispy-golden-fried opportunity, your majesty.  We save America’s bacon and they’ll never care that you only eat KFC and Mickey D’s!”

Kellyanne beams her evil smile.  “A piece of cake to defend!  Get me face-to-face with that ingrate, Chuck Todd … I’ll press his meat on “Meet the Press!’”

While Rancid Pre-bus cowers beneath Winston Churchill’s bust, Sean Spicer leaps to his feet.

“I’m on it.  Send me out there Mr. President.  My bacon scented tie’s perfect for the occasion!”

The Trumpians, dancing with joy to “I did it My Way,” crow like crazed Muslims on Jersey City rooftops when…

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There’s a knock on the Orifice door.  It’s not Saturday.  Jared Kushner, sticks his head inside with the much loathed NY Times in his hands.

He drops the paper on the table with the headline for all to see:  Bacon Shortage?  Calm Down.  It’s Fake News.

A palpable silence seizes the room.  You could hear crispy bacon crunch in your mouth.

Sean Spicer’s near tears.  Puppeteer Bannon, quick to seize on any opportunity says, “What about a Cheesecake Factory cheesecake shortage?  Huh?”

Kellyanne snaps, “I so wanted to get back at that insufferable Todd!”

President T-Rump abrutly grabs his new Red-White-and-Blue phone, a direct line to James Comey, “Jim.  Here.  Immediately … we’ve got a yuuuge and bigly problem.  Fake News … there’s plenty of bacon.  We need an FBI special investigation.  Who would tell such a malicious life threatening lie?”

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Meanwhile, pork futures shot up 20%.

Just sayin’ …