Thank the gods … “THE Season” is almost over!

“THE Season?”  What “Season” are you squawking about?  Winter?  Xmas?  That’s done and gone.

We’re way beyond wishing friends and neighbors “Happy New Year!”

What “Season?”

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The “Diet Season” … it starts every January and it’s the source of major guilt for 365 days.

It’s also the season we start … only to end quicker than any other.  It’s the one we swear to keep … for an entire year!  Not!  Nope!  Never gonna happen!

It’s just a matter of how quickly we can ditch it.

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At Seriously Absurd Mount Dora headquarters we’ve decided to help you with the base stupidity of our national pledge to shed those pounds … flatten those tummies … develop at least one can of those six-pack abs!

We’ve found the worst … the craziest … the dumbest of the diets you should never pledge to keep … or even try.

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#1 … Any nutrition info suggested by Gwyneth Paltrow … Beyonce … Big Butted Kardashians … or those who advise you while sucking-on-a-biodegradable-straw-in-a-fresh-lemon-juice-concoction-in-a-reusable-bottle-while-driving-their-Prius-to-their-private-Yoga-session.

#2 … Anything using the name-title-phrase or hint of … “The Tape Worm Diet.”  Yep … it’s real … and some crazy folks try it.

You don’t have to swallow the worm … just the egg.  Then kickback and experience a 50% … or more nutrient/food loss … while your pet worm grows.

If you’re crazy enough to try this … you might not want to peek at the enhanced microscopic photos of the “Alien-esque” worm hooked to your digestive system.  Scaaaary!

#3 … The Fabulous Ms. M (Marilyn Monroe) started her day … unless she was with JFK … with two whipped eggs coddled in warm milk … skipped her lunch assuming she was still with JFK … and had an evening meal of broiled meat and five carrots.  Nothing was said about cocktails … or portion control … for the “Fabulous Ms. M.”

Lady Gaga allegedly starts her day with two jars of Gerber baby foods … that’s breakfast and lunch … and finishes with a “normal well balanced” dinner.

I say she should stay on Gerber but move to “stage three Gerber Chewables” for dinner.  Why ruin a good thing … especially since Gerber Chewables pair well with most $200 bottles of red!

Then there’s always the “Sirt Food” plan … it starts with a well balanced red wine and dark chocolate … followed by a bunch of s**t no one’s interested in.

It appears that there really is something for everyone … in the Wild West World of Diets.

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Just sayin’ …

New Year’s Resolutions … Stop the Insanity!

Every year millions of Americans set themselves up for abject failure … self- loathing … self-hate.

Then they spend countless dollars trying to fix their screwed up psyches as they return to their favorite “couch consultants” to repair their broken lives.

And their major complaint?

“Why … why … can’t I keep a few simple resolutions beyond the first month of the New Year?”

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Well listen to me my “little-chickadees-of-life” … read on as I spill the secret to reclamation and endless happiness so you won’t slog and trudge through 2020.

Here’s the pathway to achieve your dream of keeping three of the most popular resolutions.

MAKE A NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION YOU CAN KEEP!

Here’s my “K-I-S-S” list to jumpstart your 2020 success.

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Diet … Diet-Schmiet.  Laugh in the face of Marie Osmond!

No way she looks that good … has lost that much weight eating shit food mailed to her by Nutrisystem!

Save your money.  Walk away from the stress.  All you need to do is make one simple adjustment in your life!

In a word … Velcro!

Buy Velcro shoes … No more grunting … huffing … muttering while you try to tie shoelaces that remind you you’re still carrying the weight you swore you’d lose 10 years ago!

Slap and go with … “Guilt Free Velcro!”

Velcro solved my problem … and, it can work for you!

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Exercise … Exercise Schmex-ercise.  The worst invention in the world was the guilt inducing pedometer!

As we age, our aches, cramps and muscle twitches occur all night.  That’s an extra 7-8 hours of muscle activity.  We stumble to the bathroom every night to pee … most of us more than once!

Don’t lose valuable “steps” … convert that muscle activity … those tosses and turns.  Wear your spunky pedometer 24-7 and capture those previously uncounted calories.

Remember … steps = weight loss!

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Stressed?  Stress-schmess!

Return your home to those happy-carefree days … when your living room was for living … not stressing … avoiding disasters like murder and mayhem.

Bring back your happy-go-lucky past.  “Seinfeld” works as you laugh about nothing.

“Friends” and their happy times in Central Perks … no one ever dies!

Morality tales?  “Mayberry RFD” … see how “black-and-white” morality issues can be as Andy … a single father … raises Opie.

And, don’t forget “Perry Mason” … the bad guy’s always caught … found guilty …  and confesses.

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That’s three of my EZ to keep New Year’s Resolutions … cost free … guaranteed to “keep you off the “Freud-Couch.”

Feel good about yourself … you can thank me later!

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Just sayin’ …

“Dear Santa” … 2019

Dear Santa,

I was just wondering … did you and Jesus hang out with each other when you were kids … even though Jesus was a Jew?

I’ve been studying all about Jesus in Sunday school and they tell me to believe in Him.  But when I tell them I believe in you … my Sunday school teacher gives me this weird look … and, doesn’t say anything.

I dunno.  Both of you have magical powers … and you both do nice things for people.

As for magic … Jesus had it goin’ for Him.  They say He fed a ton of people on a loaf of bread and a few pieces of farm raised catfish.  And, there was that one dead dude … Lazarus … and Jesus made him come back alive … which was way cool.

I think He may have tricked His disciples when He did the “walking-on-the-water” thing.  But that’s okay.

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I know you have that sleigh … those reindeer … can fly all over the entire world … but Jesus walked everywhere … or rode a donkey.

You have an army of elves helping you … but He only had twelve guys helping him.

They say Jesus lives in a place called “heaven” … and knows everything about us … whether we’re good or bad.  You live in the North Pole … and know whether we’ve been naughty or nice.  Is that the same thing?

They wrote a book about each of you.  Yours is a lot shorter and easier to read.

Yours truly …

Peter Paul Joseph

P.S. – I think I like you better even though you both wear weird clothes … at least you bring me toys.

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Dear PPJ,

Isn’t your house the one built on a rock?  I think I remember that one … you have a really cool chimney … easy to go down and get back up!   

Nah … I didn’t hang with Jesus when he was a kid … he was a little before me so I didn’t get to know him.  

I heard he was a pretty cool dude.

He was young when he chased those bankers out of what was then called “Wall Street.”  We could sure use a guy like Him now.  It seems that everyone who believes in Him nowadays also believes in money … war … and being mean to poor people.

Pretty stupid if you ask me.

BTW … I didn’t see a list with your letter.  If not, it’ll just be potluck for you … I just grab whatever’s on top of the sack when I swing by.  

I’m hearing rumors from corporate that if I don’t “deliver” this year, I’ll be outsourced … and something called “Prime” will take over. 

Best you send me a list.

Santa …

P.S. – It’s okay to believe in both of us … just sayin’ … SC

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’ …