Wait ‘til next year … from “Dread to “Partee!”

Another Thanksgiving dinner survived … a mega event enhanced by our steroidal political atmosphere … the state of the National Football League … and the use of the “I-word” … Impeachment.

We owe our Thanksgiving celebration to that intrepid group of Mayflowerian Separatists … who celebrated surviving their first year in the “New World” with three days of “Pilgrim Fun” … no wife swapping, drugs or alcohol … a real “Yuck Fest.”

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But fear not Thanksgiving Loyalists … you impish fun loving pie bakers and flash fried turkey arsonists.  The 21st century version of Thanksgiving’s Hardy Partiers is here to “elevate” your plans for 2020’s feast!

We’ve got the latest “plant based food enhancer” to change yesteryear’s “prayer-filled-puritan-heritage-three-day-dirge” into a wild-and-wooly Wilford Brimley “You-want-me-to-do-what-to-your-turkey?” Bacchanal Feast.

Don’t just “lace-up” that turkey for baking … “lace” that turkey, all the side dishes, desserts and beverages with the best in legal home grown American 100% certified red-white-and-blue … Pot!

Wow … you’ve just turned your 3-Day Dirge into a “Wheee-It’s-a-Three-Day-Parteee!”

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Don’t bother checking mags like “Saveur” or “Food and Wine” for next year’s recipes.

Go to “Doctor Google” … type in “best pot laced Thanksgiving recipes” and scroll through 1.6 million “Doped Turkey Day” options.

Since the best properties of your pot are released when it’s “warmed” … and there are absolutely no dishes served at Thanksgiving that are not butter laden … you can insure a successful “Everybody-gets-along-and-even-likes-football-Stoner-Turkey-Day” by starting with … “I Can’t believe it’s Pot Butter.”

Make a really huge batch and slather it everywhere you see any food … be sure to have mountain sized portions at each place setting!

And you’ll need to purchase pick-up truck loads of those little warm-up-dinner-rolls … yummy-yummy-in-my-munchy-craving-tummy!

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As for the “Big Bird” … use the Butter Ball concept and pack that Sumbitch with your Pot Butter … inside … outside … and for good measure toss a fistful of prime buds into the cavity!

Dessert?  Who’s got room for dessert?

We all do … if we harken back to our Hippie Days and resurrect the one-and-only-tried-and-true Alice B. Toklas’ “Alice’s Restaurant pot brownies.”

Take it from Wilford … it’ll give a whole new meaning to “Pot Luck!”

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Just sayin’ …

 

Astro Turkey … Your Turkey Horoscope

Thanksgiving’s right around the corner … and some folks plan their Thanksgiving dinner based on Astrology.

I think that’s pretty cool … but what’s more cool?

Base the center piece of your Thanksgiving feast-meal on the astrological sign of your gobbler.

I mean … C’mon Man … the star of the show’s the Big Bird in the center of the table!  Who serves Thanksgiving fish … or beef … or Mac’n’Cheese?

It’s all about the bird … and if you want that astrological boost in your life … choose your turkey based on its astro-sign … its “born-on-date.”

Eat your sign … get a perfect match astrologically speaking … it’s all about your Big Bird!

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ARIES … the Ram … Your bird was driven, ambitious and curious … uhoh!  This bird loved being placed in leadership positions.  What better “place” than the middle of your banquet table?

TAURUS … the Bull … They value their sense of stability and security … a bit stubborn, they dislike change … once baked, they’ll have no more problems with that!

GEMINI … the Twins … Double the pleasure … double the fun … they loved surrounding themselves with people … best served as a duo … one at the head and one at the foot of your oversized very crowded Thanksgiving table.

CANCER … the Crab … She needs to be needed … had a great desire to feel loved … when you sit in front of your Cancer turkey, be sure to lavish praise on her!

LEO … the Lion … He may have roared like a Lion … paraded around like a king … but he still ended up on the platter … that’s the big joke on Leos!

VIRGO … the Virgin … Team players … very intelligent (for a turkey) … and can be intuitive … since she was often critical, she’s best eaten at one sitting!

LIBRA … the Scales … These birds thrived when their needs of balance, justice and stability were met … massage them … brine them … baste them at regular intervals to ensure a more harmonious oven experience.

SCORPIO … the Scorpion … She always watched you in spite of her secretive, seemingly withdrawn and uninterested manner … she’s best served straight from the fridge … slathered with butter and salt and plopped deep in a flash frying turkey fryer.  Take no prisoners!

SAGITTARIUS … the Centaur … The explorer and lover of adventure … they roamed the world looking for new experiences … most likely a wild bird brought to your table from the fields … not the farm … tough and gamey … but definitely on the wild side!

CAPRICORN … the Goat … A practical turkey and deft organizer … she always tried to herd the flock in one direction … wanted everything in order … be sure your table’s organized and your dinner plan’s perfectly executed … along with your turkey!

AQUARIUS … the Water Bearer … Often the most easily bored of the flock … she always looked for something new … very quirky personalities … best served with an array of unusual side dishes … say bye-bye to Thanksgiving traditions!

PISCES … the Fish … The Dreamers in the flock … honest and trustworthy but can be gullible … that could be how they ended up on your table … handle them gently when prepping them.

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Happy Thanksgiving … Just sayin’ …

Don’t ya just hate Christmas Blogs before Thanksgiving?

There’s a juicy pre-Christmas news item floating around outer space … and the internet … and it’s being linked to our total destruction.

No … it’s not the odds that jolly old St. Nick will get stuck in a chimney … causing “Christmas Interruptus.”

Or, an out-of-control-Rudolph will crash his reindeer team into one of the 128 million pieces of space debris now being tracked by CNEOS … our Center for Near Earth Object Studies.

Yes … the US Gov’t really does have a Center dedicated to tracking all that orbiting space s**t.

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Recently the CNEOS folks confirmed that there are currently 26 “Near-Earth” objects scheduled to pass us in the next 60 days!

Where are the Waste Management trucks when we need them?

Should we create a Space Waste Force to go along with You-Know-Whose US Space Force and start bagging up all this garbage?

If Elon Musk can launch a Tesla into orbit … can’t we get a garbage truck up there and scoop up some of this space s**t?

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The space rock causing the most consternation indeed will pass by earth early evening of Christmas Eve … Santa beware!

The Brit tabloid “Express” seems to be most intrigued with this impending Christmas Doom’s Day scenario … some totally “stoned” Brit sources estimate the size of the Rock as a tumbling World Trade Center.

According to some other Brits not “tripping” at their keyboards … the size of the space rock is somewhere between a Red Double Decker London Bus … and a VW Bug.

Either way … that’s a BFA … “Big F***ing Asteroid!”

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The real question is … “How close is close?”

All the space-rock-killer-hullabaloo is sparked over the asteroid known as 216258 2006 WH1 … pretty catchy name … don’t-ya think “Space Hellion” … or “Destruct-O” would be better?

But fear not … CNEOS has been tracking this “Space Puppy” since 2006 … that’s the past 13 years … so it’s hardly a sneak attack!

And according to NASA … though the BFA will “pass by earth” … it will be at a distance of approximately 3.6 million miles.

3.6 million?  That’s a lotta miles between earth and the BFA … even if they call it a “Near Earth Object!”

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So just shut up Brits … enuf with the Christmas Doomsday Conspiracy … work on your “Brexit-Exit” … and LEAVE SANTA ALONE!

Just sayin’ …

The “Trump-phabet”

A … “A is for A-hole” … everyone has one … some use it properly and keep it clean … others, like you-know-who in the White House …  are stuck with it as a character flaw.

B … “B is for Buttboy” … the role our resident A-hole plays with Vladimir Putin.

C … “C is for Conspiracy Theories” … the real Fake News that our very own A-hole seems never to tire of.

D … “D is for Drain the Swamp” … but our A-hole had to build a special “Trump Swamp Tower” to house all the new Swamp Creatures he’s added to swamp he didn’t drain.

E … “E is for Evangelicals” … a group of pseudo-Christians who haven’t discovered they’re exploited by someone who thinks “Two Corinthians” is a book in the Bible.

F … “F is for F-yourself” … the ultimate awkward sex act … the one our current White House Tenant is doing to our entire country.

G … “G is for the GOP” … that group dominated by fat-old-white-men who sold their “soles” to the first letter of the “Trump-phabet” … see “A-hole.”

H … “H is for Hillary” … the woman who got more votes for president than the A-hole got.

I … “I is for Investigations” … remember when he said Hillary would be spending all her time fighting investigations if she got elected?

J … “J is for Junior” … as in Trump Junior … the trophy-hunting-arrogant-liar “Spokes Son” for Daddy Dearest.

K … “K is for nothing” … unless it’s linked with two additional K’s … meaning “KKK” … the racist antisemitic organization revitalized by our resident A-hole.

L … “L is for Lock Her Up” … our WH tenant’s 2016 campaign rally cry which for 2020 has morphed into “Lock Him Up.”

M … “M is for Melania” … who will be a very, very wealthy divorcee when she splits from you-know-who before he’s arrested … and financially ruined.

N … “N” is for the “N-word” … which the A-hole’s leaking aides say he loves to use in the Offal Office.

O … “O is for Orange” … which is the color of our A-hole’s skin and hair … so far no one in the country mimics his style.

P … “P is for P***y” … a word used only by the A-holes of the world practicing “Power Sex” … a euphemism for “rape.”

Q … “Q” is for Quid-pro-Quo”… which means “this-for-that” and for sure never happened because he “takes and never gives.”  His personal Latin word is “culus” … A-hole.

R … “R is for all things Russia” … whose President, Putin must have digital photos of you-know-who doing it with farm animals instead of beautiful Russian prostitutes.

S … “S is for shithole countries” … used by A-hole to describe countries where black-brown-yellow people outnumber white folks.

T … “T is for tantrum” … the behavior most often used by our A-hole to express his feelings, opinions, wants, needs, desires and when his KFC is delivered cold.

U … “U is for underwear” … more specifically “Tightie-Whities” … which Stormy Daniels reported our p***y-grabbing-sexual-predator-A-hole wore the night she spanked him with a copy of Forbes … Tightie Whities?

V … “V is for Vlad” … our A-hole’s new BFF which no one understands … refer back to “R – all things Russia.”

W … “W is for Winning” … remember when he promised … “You’ll be winning so much you’ll get tired of winning?”

X … “X is for Xenophobia” … which the A-hole practices referring to “my Black supporter” … record employment for Blacks and Latinos … Mexican rapists … drug dealers and murderers … extolling Brownshirts, Nazis and Fascists.

Y … “Y is for Yovanovitch” … as in Maria Yovanovitch, our Ambassador to Ukraine … forced from her office by the A-Hole’s “3-Amigos” … Rick Perry, Gordon Sondland and Kurt Volker … but watch out … “Karma really is a bitch.”

Z … “Z is for Zelensky” … the President of Ukraine, who unlike our A-hole, did not cave to pressure from foreign governments in order to get elected.

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It’s good to know your ABCs.

Just sayin’ …

“Bringing down al Big Bad-daddi” Narrated by Donald “Maddog Rambo” Trump

Like any great saga, the tale of a heroic deed grows exponentially with each telling as it morphs into a legend retold in medieval mead halls where minstrels spread the tale to the masses.

Here’s “Maddog Rambo Trump” … as his own “Digital Age Minstrel.”

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“After mocking Obama for being a pansy-ass, I decided to make killing the most ruthless, eloosive ISIS leader my #1 mission … while I also eliminated ekonemic stability … caved to China in world trade … gave away prime Mid-East sand to Syria, Russia and Turkey … evickted the Kurds from their homes without even going to court … caused lifetime psycho harm to Mexican kids separating them from their families … and increased profits to my personal business empire more than I could have imagined.

What a country we live in!

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I alone set up the mission to get that cur-dog Ahboo Big-baddy based on my own deep understanding of military untelligence ignoring our useless generals and admirals.

I choose the darkest night ever recorded in the dessert sands of Syria … I lokate the exact place where that raghead piece of goat shit would be hiding … just outside a shit hole village called Barisha … in a piece of shit compound.

Then covered in my personal American flag, I commanded that my handpicked Seels be ready to strike.  Under my leedership these men would be sukcesful and recognized for their bravery.

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I personally inspected each choppter … looking for chance of failure.  No grain of sand would stop us … unlike that old peenut cropper Jimmie Carter … who couldn’t rescue our hostages from Iran … and is still building cheep houses.

We flew low and fast under the radar I knew they had installed in the back of their old pickup trucks.  We were fast and unseeable because I insisted on my new dessert pattern sand storm choppter paint … available on-line at MaddogTrumpSandStormPaints.com.

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I knew A Bubba-gotti would run as soon as we dropped.

I jumped first from the choppter … my AR15 swinging left to right … mostly to the left killing lefties … and headed toward an oblivious tunnel.

I stopped to call in Droam cover … those buzzy little flying things that look like wasps but drop bombs instead of stinging you … I hadda hunch we’d need more air power.

Ignoring cries from my fellow Sells to ‘play it safe’ … I dove into the darkness of the tunnel with my trusted personal military dog … hot on the scent of Abul-Garri because they used his underwear to track him … which I thought was mean to the dog.

I heard him already crying ‘Leaf me alone … Leaf me alone.’  But the dog and I pressed on.

I imagined his neck in my biggly hands strangling him while my trusty dog grabbed his crotch.

But the sniffling crybaby coward blew himself up before I could kill him.

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I stumbled out of the tunnel carrying my wounded dog pal … gazed up to the full moon and howled … ‘He’s all yours, men … what’s left of him.’

Whistling the ‘Star Spangled Banner,’ I carried my dog and my American flag back to America.”

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Just sayin’ …

Peyronie’s Disease … A man … his “dick” … and vegetables

Is nothing sacred?  Seriously Absurd certainly hope’s not!

Buried in the notorious 1998-99 impeachment battle over where Bill Clinton’s-Dick’s-been … somewhere amidst all the personal attacks, news reports, legal maneuvers, denials, he-said-she-saids and “that depends on what-is-is … Paula Jones allowed that she could ID … the Prez’s “member.”

When that “news” broke … I glanced down and immediately whispered: “Hey Big Fella … does this mean that, like fingerprints, no two dicks are alike?”

Well … in that instance I was right.

According to Paula  … the Prez’s boner had distinctive identifying characteristics … which when the fly was unzipped, allowed some reporters working the story to drop “Your New Word for the Day” on us … “Peyronie’s” … as a possible explanation.

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Fast forward two decades plus … where current TV commercials now display graphic scenes for conditions, illnesses, diseases using previously verboten language, visual aids and “soft porn” to sell us cures for just about any ailment.

And if you thought a guy with a “crooked dick” would never ever make it onto your oversized-LED-surround-sound-TV-screen staged in your Home Entertainment Room … you’d be wrong, wrong, wrong!

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Recently I was doing “the boy thing” … not that one … the casual channel flipping one … when my eyes focused on several guys gazing at various vegetables plucked from your neighborhood farm stand.

But these guys weren’t just looking …  they were engaged!

The scene featured a clutched zucchini … a smooth and polished mini-eggplant …  a knobby rustic carrot … a bumpy and swerved-to-the-left cuke … which these guys were bending, fondling and examining.

The real question to be asked of the faux-doc in the commercial was not what’s “normal” for a guy’s nether regions … the veggie display clarified that … but rather, “What was the impact on the poor guy stuck with the bent carrot which resembled a large pencil … as opposed to the clearly GMO’ed crooked cuke?”

At least for the purposes of the commercial, they could’ve given “Carrot Guy” a jumbo-tron carrot … C’mon, Man!

Let’s see … carrot or cuke?  To Hell with the “curve problem” … I’m saying “Cuke Guy” was probably less worried than “Carrot Guy!”

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But according to the commercial, we now have good news for guys who suffer from “crooked dick syndrome” … known as “CDS” in the locker rooms.

So don’t be ashamed men … face your demons … talk with your urologist!

And by all means quit playing with my veggies … that’s just gross!

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And BTW … I’m still most concerned about “Carrot Guy.”

Just sayin’ …

Spicer’s new dance partners? Jesus and Trump!

It’s tough to feel sorry for the folks who’ve found themselves twisted-up in the webs of deceit of our current Reality Show White House tenant.

But never fear!  One of Seriously Absurd’s faves may have landed on his feet!

Sean Spicer … ex-White House crowd hallucinating ass-kissing-grunt … emerged from the Trump Swamp for what some call his “Big Chance!”

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Only in America can we “Make America Great Again” and invite someone with low enough self-esteem to make a television buffoon of himself … ironically on a TV-Reality Show.

Watched by millions and cheered by a few … Spicey made his DWTS (Dancing with the Stars) debut for Season #28.

And once again as with “all things Trump” … controversy erupted.

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Before Spicer could get to the dance floor … the public outrage over his past enveloped the show.

Evidently Spicer’s proclamations about Inauguration attendance … hiding in the bushes to avoid press contact … and, his use of “alternative facts” concerning Trump … are still sore points with people who can’t abide our bone-spurred leader’s 13,435 lies while in the Offal Office.

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For his “Inaugural DWTS Cha-Cha,” The Spice-man stuffed himself into a lime green ruffled body shirt with at least 9” of codpiece crammed in his crotch!  No wonder one of the judge’s commented that “he appeared wooden in his movements!”

Most watchers swore he looked more like a dancing-lime-sherbet-sugar-cone than a hot, sexy Latino dancer!

In spite of rotten scores … but thanks to the Fates … Spicey returned for round #2 where he danced with steps that unbelievably resembled a set of high octane moves that one judge said … “Looked strangely like a Tango!”

By now, Spicey was a growing internet sensation … something of a cause célèbre … and back for week #3.

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Now boosted by Tweet Storms from Evangelist for the Stars, Evangie Pastor Mike “I-no-longer-deep-fry-squirrel” Huckabee, his daughter Sarah Huckabee “It’s-more-fun-at-Fox” Sanders … and The Donald “Where’s my Sharpie-when-I-need-it” … Spice-man gathered a New Testament throng of worshippers who voted him into rounds 3 & 4 of DWTS.

Swayed by “alternative dance facts” … surging Evangies digitally stuffed the electoral air waves voting for Sean … swearing he was the 13th disciple sent by Jesus to demonstrate that he … like our President …  can lead us to the “Holy Land of Dance” without a speck of talent.

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Seriously Absurd has heard that those wild and crazy Evangie Trick-or-Treaters are dropping traditional Holy Land themed costumes like small pox infested blankets … instead opting in droves for Spicey’s DWTS costumes … codpiece included … batteries not.

Just sayin’ …

La Cucaracha 2.0

When someone mentions the word “cockroaches” your first reaction probably isn’t literary, musical or cinematic … or even thoughts of China.

In music the lowly cockroach appeared in the early 1800’s in a Spanish folksong … “La Cucaracha” … alluding to the fact that the poor roach could only walk in circles and couldn’t escape impending doom because its hind legs were missing!

Cockroaches in Hollywood were featured in the first “Men in Black” … a starring role as a secret agent alien roach played by Vincent D’Onofrio.

In literary circles, the most famous cockroaches are “Archy” … of “Archy and Mehitabel” fame … created by American humorist Don Marquis (early 1900’s) … and Kafka’s man cum cockroach novella, “Metamorphosis” published in 1915.

If all the cockroaches in the world were as likeable and poetic as Archy they wouldn’t have the PR problem they have now … and they might even be as welcome in our homes as our puppies and kitties.

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But no one has bigger plans for cockroaches than our friends in Asia … the Chinese … big, big plans … lotsa roaches … farms of roaches … housing billions and billions of the little creatures!

Whataya gonna do with billions of cockroaches?  An invasion force?  Possibly a new form of “biological/germ warfare?  Food for the masses?

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How about … “None of the above.”

After much research, Seriously Absurd has learned that China’s got all eyes forward … planning for the future.  They “now own” … notice the clever use of an anagram … the darkest corner of the Cockroach Market!

And China’s roaches aren’t covered under the brilliant Trump Tariff War!

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Nope … in China they’re not eating roaches to fight anticipated food shortages … they’re raising billions of roaches to thwart garbage disposal problems and methane emissions resulting from food waste.

Talk about the cycle of life … a billion roaches devour 50 tons of food waste paste daily while housed inside a warm, humid, dark space … these happy roaches make even more happy roaches at an incredible rate … and when they’ve “bought the farm,” the ground up cockroaches are a high protein food source for other farm animals.

Hold on to your “Roach Motels … there’s more!

The largest “Roach Farm” in China uses over 6 billion crushed roaches a year for the pharmaceutical firm “Gooddoctor” as the main ingredient in their “healing potion” which is distributed to over 4,000 hospitals in China.

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Think about that the next time one of those crunchy pests pops under your shoe in the middle of the night.

Just sayin’ …

Lucifer backs the meatless movement … Don’t say I didn’t warn ya!

The meatless gangs … nee Vegans …  roaming amongst us sure have created a maelstrom of negativity.

I’ll spare you all the “Vegan Facts” like better for the environment … better for your own health … better for the animals in our food chain … and it tastes good, too.

But there’s one group of folks who are literally in a state of near riot over the recent spate of meatless products.

They’re not a bunch of cattle driving, calf branding cowboys shooting up the sheep herders to preserve their way of life in the now Less-Wilder-New-Old West!

Nope … we’re dealing with Evangelical Christians who believe in their fundamental heart-of-hearts that not eating meat is the equivalent of the eighth deadliest sin.

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Enter stage left … oops … scrap that … enter stage right.

He would be Right Wing Pastor … “The Rev of the Political Right” … “The Get Right with Christ” TV Host for those believers who pray with hands glued to their flat screens … the host of his own TruNews Wednesday night broadcasts … the pastor of Flowing Streams Church in Vero Beach, Flori-duh … Rick Wiles.

Wiles “steaks out” his position:  Meatless meat is a “Luciferian plot to get people to fall from God’s graces.”

Corporations will soon be selling nothing but plants denying you God’s natural creation … be it Bossie or Ferdinand on-the-hoof … the Little Red Hen … Bo Beep’s sheep shank … or one of the Three Little Pigs.

And when you partake of the plant based food foisted on you that looks, smells,  and tastes like meat … you’re headed right down the path of sin … batta-boom-batta-bing … the slippery slope to Hell.

In other words … Wiles believes “manufactured meats” are the 21st century version of the new “gateway drug.”

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When you buy this “fake meat” you’ve entered the nightmare world of corporations who “play God” and feed you only what’s “grown in their own laboratories.”

These godless corporations want to “bring more people to Satan.”  For what purpose?

According to Wiles’ theory … if you can call it “theory” … when you eat lab grown plants, your DNA is changed … and overtime you’ll become subhuman.  Because you’re no longer human, you are no longer “eligible” for Jesus’ salvation.

And since you can’t be saved … you ain’t headed to heaven to sit at the right hand of God!

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Holy shit … since I’m neither Vegan nor am I Christian … my theory is that I’m “saved.”

I’ll drink to that … pass the vodka, please!

Just sayin’ …

Lady Liberty Joins the “Me Too” Movement

When he who shall remain nameless as well as brainless heard there was actually a poetic plea attached to the Statue of Liberty which welcomed poor people of all races to our shores … he was shocked and revolted.

So our pea brained Imposter President immediately ordered his newest Acting-Whatever … Ken Cuccinelli … his latest WWWHWSA … West Wing White House White Supremacy Advisor … to cleanse the poem and rewrite history.

Responding as only the newest West Wing lap dog could … “Cucch” promptly teamed up with Herr Stephen Miller … aka the Exalted Cyclops of the local White House Klan …  who also serves in the capacity of the “White House White Supremacy Laureate.”

Their goal?

To rewrite the world renown Emma Lazarus poetry, “The New Colossus” creating … “The Newer Colossus.”

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Lazarus’ original work …

The New Colossus

“Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land,

Here at our sea-washed, sun-set gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles.  From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome, her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she

With silent lips.  “Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

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The Newer Colossus

“Like a brazen giant of Nordic shame,

With PED enhanced limbs stretched from land to land,

Here at the polluted Hudson, behind locked gates shall stand,

An orange-tanned white male with a torch, whose flame shines

From his coiffed comb-over, and his name is Grand

Perpetrator of White Supremacy.  From his beacon-hand

Burns hate, fear, and contempt, his beady eyes defend

The oil-slicked harbor that twin cities frame.

“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries he

With pouty lips.  Give me your Danes, your Swedes,

Your Norwegian masses yearning to be Americans free

To hate wretched Browns and Blacks on our teeming shores.

So send the shapely-assed, the hugely-breasted,

I’ll fondle their “nethers” behind my golden doors.”

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It could be worse … but I don’t know how.

Just sayin’ …