You’re a mean one …

Thanksgiving’s over … all the turkeys have let out a collective sigh … and put away their “Eat Mor Chickin’” signs!

We can focus now on the Xmas season!

Given the climates … political and real … I’m not sure we’ll hear these old standards this year … “Santa Claus got stuck in my chimney when he came last night ….” or, “Baby, I wanna trim your beautiful Christmas tree ….” and not even the fabulous, “I know what he wants for Christmas ….”

Now, the atmosphere is much more Seuss-ian … and no one spells it out more clearly than Seuss himself … are we sure he didn’t know Donald Trump?


You’re a mean one, Mr. Trump
You really are a heel
You’re as cuddly as a cactus, you’re as charming as an eel, Mr. Ha-rump
You’re a bad banana with a greasy black peel!

You’re a monster, Mr. Schlump
Your heart’s an empty hole
Your brain is full of spiders, you have garlic in your soul, Mr. Ga-rump
I wouldn’t touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole!

You’re a foul one, Mr. Schtump
You have termites in your smile
You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Ga-lump
Given a choice between the two of you I’d take the seasick crocodile!

You’re a vile one, Mr. Schrunk
You’re a nasty wasty skunk
Your heart is full of unwashed socks, your soul is full of gunk, Mr. Schpee-lunk
The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote
“Stink, stank, stunk”!

You’re a rotter, Mr. Gunk
You’re the king of sinful sots
Your heart’s a dead tomato splotched with moldy purple spots, Mr. Poh-dunk
Your soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful
Assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable, mangled up in tangled up knots!

You nauseate me, Mr. Crunk
With a nauseous super “naus!”
You’re a crooked dirty jockey and you drive a crooked hoss, Mr. Up-chunk
You’re a three decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich
With arsenic sauce!


My posthumous apologies to the Good Doctor … I tried but could not come close to matching his words and style … so I only changed the name of the accused.

Just sayin’ …

And you thought “The War of Northern Aggression” was over!

Southerners have a saying left over from their unfortunate ass-whuppin’ many years ago at the hands of some Northern Invaders … I’m not talkin’ about Canadians … I’m talkin’ about those “Damn Yankees.”

Many still say it proudly … though now mostly under their breaths.

“Forgit, Hell!”

That slogan became the slogan of the South on May 9, 1865 … the day the South surrendered to the North ending our Civil War.


I thought 153 years of post armistice “makin’ nice behavior” would actually assuage those feelings and smooth things out.

But recently, I read about some trickery and chicanery that once again has aroused age-old and deeply buried Southern hostility.

We’re talking about that “galdern Alabama Poop Train!”

Yep, folks … an actual trainload of human defecation sent to the lovely rolling hills of northern Alabama from none other than that den of total iniquity … New York City!


According to one resident at “Poop Zero” … the small town of Parrish, AL … “It felt like the Northerners were trying to pile messes on the Southerners.”

And Southerners are just plain tired of cleanin’ up other folks’ messes!

To prove that they aren’t fools … when a Parrish policeman was told that the 10 million pounds of partially processed human waste was “harmless,” he retorted … “Well, if it’s ‘harmless’ why don’t they just dump it up North?”

That’s tellin’ ‘em and givin’ ‘em “what’s for!”


I can see it now …  a bunch of conivin’ Yankees sittin’ around and musing … “Gee, I wonder where we could get away with dumping a few million pounds of s**t into someone’s back yard?”

“I got it,” yells one stubby cigar smoking bureaucrat.  “We’ll send it to Alabama … they ain’t got s**t down there!”


And before the towns surrounding the Blue Sky Landfill … sounds kinda “resorty” to me … could ask, “Who’s gonna pay our Lysol bill?” … a train load of big-assed-Yankee-doo-doo sat for two months … in the sun … ripening up … while folks argued over where all this s**t was going.

Well … there’s nothing like a train load of stink in your backyard to get your attention that somethin’s outta whack … and you gotta fight it.

And fight it the folks of Parrish did.

Truckloads hauled it all away … and when asked about where it was goin’ … Parrish’s answer was, “We don’t care.  It ain’t our s**t!”


Rumors are that Alabama’s new state flag will proudly display a new slogan … “Don’t Poop on Me!”

Just sayin’ …

What really matters … and it’s not the mid-terms …

Here it is a few days after the crazed two year run-up to the 2018 mid-terms … and I have yet to determine whether I won … lost … or am just too exhausted to give a damn.

In spite of the tsunami of media punditry attempting to explain the results of the mid-terms … I choose to focus on much more important issues facing those of us who are engaged with life in 2018.

Here’s the Seriously Absurd list … so far.


For those folks who still play “dress-up” one night each year, Halloween 2018 saw the demise of the “Killer Clown” as the #1 costume.

Amusingly enough … the #1 costume in this election mid-term year according to Pinterest … none other than Tonya Harding.

Say who?

Wasn’t she the ice skater who placed the championships into her own ex-husband’s hands … and there’s the legal complication … when he bashed the knee of poor Nancy Kerrigan … the #1 skater … knocking her out of the competition?

Yep … and after her December, 2017 bio-pic … “I, Tonya” … we have another American Anti-hero put up for worship.


And … in 2018 if you didn’t buy your Fidget Spinner to play with Barron Trump … you’re too late.

Fidget Spinners hit the toy market January 2018 … peaked in May and now occupy no space on toy store shelves.

Oh wait … since Toys R Us closed it’s doors … there are no toy stores in America.

If you did buy a Fidget Spinner … hold on to it for 50 or so years and you’ll have a toy collectible for Mike and Frank … the guys in History Channel’s “American Pickers.”


And of course we have our 2018 asteroid … code named Oumuamua … Hawaiian meaning … “a messenger that reaches out from the distant past.”

What’s got everyone gesticulating to this hunk of space rock is the idea that some spacey scientists … not Kevin Spacey … seem to think this flattish cigar shaped tumbler is an alien probe that was sent on a “fly by” of earth.

Mind you  … there is no evidence of any kind to support this theory.

But, if you ask me … I’ll remind you we have a guy in the White House who wants to establish a United States Space Force … and he has no evidence that such a “space force” is necessary, needed or even wanted.

Evidence … schmevidence!


So there you have it … a sampler of what I think about instead of who won what in the 2018 mid-terms.

Just sayin’ …

The Double-Dip Controversy

Lowes is selling Xmas decorations … Xmas music’s blaring on Sirius Radio … and Hallmark’s started their 2018 Xmas movie series.

The “Holidays” are here … ‘tis the Party Season!

So … it’s time we addressed a critical issue … “double-dipping.”

We’re not talking ice cream cones here … and, who knew double-dipping could cause such a furor?

Select your dipping chip … scoop dip … put the dip-laden part of your chip in your mouth … chomp … talk a bit … pause, turn and plunge your remaining gummed chip for a rerun.


Immediately heads spin and whirl as if exorcized … eyes bulge … tongues wag … fingers point … shunning begins.

And you know many of those finger-wagging-party-goers are the same one’s who put their unused flatware back in the drawer instead of the dishwasher.

Or worse … rinse off the free chopsticks from their Chinese takeout … slipping them back into their little paper case for a rerun.


The health impact of double-dipping’’s been extensively researched.

Though we’re not talking cancer, heart disease, or obesity depth of research … science has looked into this nefarious act of “bad, bad manners.”

For those of us who don’t live on the cutting edge of hygiene practices, the act of double-dipping is way overrated as a cause of the plague, polio, herpes, VD, or even the common cold.

“Show me the evidence,” you say?


Give a “Shout Out” to Clemson University … and a real but probably obscure independent … “Germ Scientist!”  Both studies pointed out important details.

Crackers hold more mouth bacteria than chips.

More mouth bacterium lingers from a double-dip into cheeses and creams.

Salsa’s the way to go for D-D’s (Double-Dippers) … a double-dip into acidic salsa is “almost harmless.”


The fact is, from head to toe humans are germ farms.  And on average, we touch our mouths, ears and eyes over 3,000 times daily!

You’re far more likely to “catch a bug” from hand shaking … hugging … touching door knobs … or looking at photos of adorable grandkids and pets on someone’s “filthy cell phone.”

Based on this info … double-dipping’s more of an argument for bad manners than it is for mimicking Typhoid Mary!


So unless you go to your holiday parties in a full-body condom, don’t be throwing down on me … should you catch me “double-dipping.”

Just sayin’ …