“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.”)

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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?

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And according to that pesky ole historical document called “The Constitution” … the House is her domain and she has every bit as much power in our government as he does!

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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.

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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?”

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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.

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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!

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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!

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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!

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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.

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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!

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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.

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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.”

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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!

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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.

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

Just sayin …’

Resolutions

It’s January … post-holiday … and, the first month of the New Year.

After more than a month of celebrating with massive food intake, alcohol consumption, germ-spreading-family-get-togethers, holiday galas … and, yes interminable post college football season bowl game snacks … you’ve made “that decision.”

I don’t care who you are, where you live or how much you weigh … this time you’re gonna stick to it.

You swear this is the year you’re really, really serious about … your diet.

You’re gonna lose that weight … plus the weight you haven’t even gained … and the weight you thought you were gonna gain … as well as the weight your best friend, partner or spouse gained.

It’s your time … and this is your year!

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To ensure your success, the crack staff of Seriously Absurd’s already done the research to help you stick to your guns … or knives, forks and spoons as you face the daunting task of sticking to it … staying the course … never saying die … or damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead!

Rules are to diets what ice cream and cake are to weight gain!

So … here are some personal tips from my diet plan!

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If no one sees you eat it … the calories don’t count … think “tree falling in the forest” stuff!

The corollary to that is … if you eat it off someone else’s plate, the calories belong to that plate owner.

You save a ton of calories by not licking your plate … or your significant other’s plate.  Hey, it’s helped me!

Calories from licking food prep utensils … beaters, spoons, knives, whisks, spatulas, or fingers … don’t count.  If they did, your mom would never have let you “lick the beaters” when you were a kid!

Nine out of ten doctors say that “chocolate calories” are totally offset by health benefits … these are the same nine doctors who told you that “smoking was good for you!”

Calories are measured as units of heat.  Ergo, frozen calories … think ice cream, cheese cake, frozen umbrella drinks … are scientifically non-existent.  It’s reverse global warming.

People who tell you that alcohol contains calories are colossal liars and spreaders of Fake News.  Alcohol kills germs, red ants, garden slugs, and brain cells.  Calories don’t stand a chance in your vodka.  Take it from me!

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Follow these rules … especially the plate licking one … and drop me an email to let me know how you’re doin’ for 2019!

Just sayin’ …