He was guarding the entrance of a booze store when I strolled by with camera ever at the ready. The attitude and haughty look on his face immediately reminded me of someone. Then his warning bark of trumph, trumph inspired me to decorate his photo with appropriate retouching.
These days it seems just about every physical contact between men and women leads to sensational news and enriched lawyers. Therefore, let’s go back poetically to historically famous couples who could have had different relationships in today’s sanitized, inter-sexual behavior:
To Adam from Eve: Get your dirty hands off my cleave.
Cleopatra to Caesar: Marc Anthony is a better pleaser.
Juliet to Romeo: Get thee away from me, thou homeo!
Ann Boleyn to Henry the King: Because of you my head went zing!
Josephine to Nappy: Go to Waterloo if it’ll make you happy.
Victoria to Albert: Restrain those princely hands, you pervert!
Scarlett to Rhett: Frankly, my dear, I wouldn’t have you on a bett!
Bonnie to Clyde: Is it safe to go on that one last car ride?
Hillary to Billy: I’d be President if you hadn’t behaved so silly!
To Donald from Melania: When you grope other women, I go insania!
Now, in the autumn rutting season and the stags feel most horny, New York Mayor DeBlasio wants to take away their buckhood. He ordered a bunch of sharp-scissored veterinarians to roam the woods to hunt down and clip the stag ardor. The intent is to control the island’s overpopulated deer herds.
Hey, while they’re doing the stag slicing and dicing, maybe they should go beyond the woodland bucks and perform the surgery on some human buckaroos who may qualify for the same procedure. For example:
Kardashians: It would cut down on the never-ending annoying 24-7 publicity.
President Trump: While vets publicly desex stags, should The Donald be discouraged from grabbing handfuls of doe privates?
Bruce Jenner: Before he became Ms. Kaitlin, the former him had six kids with three hers.
Now beyond clipping, the late dicktator Fidel Castro had nine kids with five women.
Various other celebs who may qualify for sterilization: Charlie Sheen has five kids with three women, Clint Eastwood boasts seven kids with five mamas, Mike Tyson sired eight with five women, Bob Marley fathered 11 kids with seven women. And the champ of them all, boxer George Foreman has fathered 12 kids with five women.
Isn’t it about time they all were clipped by the vas deferens snippers?
As a very, very ancient guy approaching the inevitable, one of the more interesting, but intrusive internet ads I’ve observed recently is for a flying funeral service.
I won’t name the company, but if it keeps posting the offer, you’re sure to see it splashed across your big or little screen. My interest was piqued by some of the famous locations the ad suggests where you can choose to have your remainders scattered from above. They include national parks, monuments, mountains, deserts, beaches and other dramatically scenic final destinations.
I agree that those ultimate ash-hauling locations are ok, but I’d like to volunteer some of my more preferred final flights of fancy:
Above the White House lawn onto an outdoor Trump family and friends lunch.
On grossly overpaid football kneelers as they disrespect the USA.
Strew buckets of still-burning white ash over all the white hoods at a KKK rally.
Sprinkled on top of a fat-ashed Kardashian family picnic.
Over the millionaire Clinton$ as they pile up their million$ from paid speeches.
According to the respected research institute’s recent findings, only 4% of American seniors would want to live to age 120. Euuuuwwww, Pew! This 92-year-old scribbler does not agree at all! Those Pew beancounters should take another count!
Most seasoned citizens I’ve talked to recently would cherish those extra years to fulfill some ambitious bucket lists. The first response was that they’d like to spend more time with loved ones, as well as embark on exciting ventures by air, sea and land.
The list could include living long enough to see the Kardashians, Clintons and Trumps fade into blessed obscurity, watch the Boston Red Sox win another World Series and be in London to celebrate Queen Elizabeth’s 100th birthday jubilee.
Even more so, what senior wouldn’t want to attend Wayne Newton’s 90th annual Las Vegas on-stage performance? And, of course, spend $10,000 to watch 70-year-old Floyd Mayweather defend his world boxing crown against the women’s wrestling association champ.
Additionally, even if it seems forever just a dream, some advanced elders hope to survive long enough to see the end of war, crime, poverty and disease. We’d hope for rational, intelligent world leaders. Considering that two leading clowns of today are threatening mutual nuclear disaster, that wish may disappear into a large, black cloud.
Of course, to live that long could also cause some heartache. As Mel Brooks’ famous 2,000-year-old man once kvetched: I have hundreds of children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren. And not one of them ever even picks up the phone to call me!
American sheik Donald Trump enjoyed playing footsie and finance with the Saudi Arabian leaders. Flashing his new Saudi medal, is he now living the harem life of Rudolph Valentino? Or is he aware that those 15 Saudi terrorists murdered more than 3,000 Americans on that terrible day in 2001?
Does Trump also remember that the Saudi cartels were responsible for kiting the price of oil by cutting off shipments to the US in 1973. To the glee of the Saudis, it caused long lines at American gas stations and unending price rises we still suffer today.
Gas at the pump prices that year immediately skyrocketed from 35¢ a gallon to $1, $2 and beyond. That was just the beginning. The ever-increasing cost of the Saudi fuel sent the entire U.S. economy into continuing inflation. If you’re old enough to remember, consider 1973 prices of cars, houses, groceries and everything else compared to today’s inflated costs.
Of course, business is business, and billionaire tycoon Trump is busting out with all kinds of multi-billion-dollar deals he wrangled from the Saudis. Maybe when they decide to raise the price of a gallon of gas to $10 and beyond, the President may wake up. He may suddenly realize that the royal bathrobe and burka Saudi sheiks are not his loving harem.
The latest are performed by Donald Trump, Caitlin/AKA/Bruce Jenner, Sarah Palin, Ann Coulter, Kim Jong-un, the Kardashians and all the other contemporary freaks. There’s nothing new about their antics, all designed to grab our attention and/or money.
I’m old enough to remember seeing circus wagons roll into town and offer freakish sideshow attractions. They included JoJo the Monkey Boy, General Tom Thumb, Elephant Man, Siamese Twins and Schlitzie The Pinhead. As with those who make today’s headlines, they were there to get as much money out of the local yokels as possible.
Some oldtime freaks were physically-deformed, while others offered funny costumes, magic tricks or music to entice you. Among today’s most active freaks are the mentally-deformed pinhead dictator of North Korea and orange-wigged-out leader of the free world.
In addition to reducing your bank account, they want to increase their power. For example, TRUMPeter Ann Coulter blares out her message to gatherings of super-left and super-right college freaks. She incites them to riot, make headlines, sell tickets and peddle her books.
A very familiar example of today’s version of the circus freak is Bruce/AKA/Caitlin Jenner. Prime time interviews, theater appearances, speeches and book sales are making him/her a bi-billionaire.
And, of course, there are the political celebrity promo deals. A year ago, Barack Obama teased Hillary Clinton for getting $200,000 per speech. Along with other lucrative deals, he’s grabbing $400,000 for a one-hour freak show in front of a bunch of overstuffed Wall Street billionaires, scheduled for September.
With their glory days faded, Bernie Sanders, Hillary Clinton, Sarah Palin and other failed political freaks may still be able to make a few bucks with speeches. Or if that fails, stand on street corners with a tin cup. Shakespeare said it best in Macbeth: “A poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”