Trump Deports Margaret Cho


panda1American born, LGBT activist and rumored comedienne Margaret Cho has been deported to China in what Cho’s representative calls a misguided and racist miscarriage of human rights by the Trump administration.

Wait a minute. Pandas aren’t Korean. And Margaret Cho isn’t terribly funny, either. So, let me double-check my facts.

The difference between a panda and Margaret Cho is that I would cuddle with a panda after sex…and pandas are funny.

Donald Trump isn’t the first president to fight the treachery of China. You have to go all the way back to Richard Nixon’s visit to China and their white elephant gift of “loaning” the United States two pandas.

The National Zoo in Washington, DC has shipped a three-year-old panda, named Bao Bao, to China. In one of life’s magnificent ironies, Bao Bao the panda is the only instance of the United States exporting something to the Celestial Kindgom.

Expect this panda’s anchor baby to sponsor his family for US citizenship in the next few years.

Bao Bao the pampered panda is traveling by air in a crate the size of a double bed, so he can stretch out and relax, while his personal keeper and veterinarian keep up a constant stream of bamboo over the sixteen-hour, non-stop flight. The last thing you want is an animal that eats thirteen to sixteen hours a day to get cranky from hunger pangs.

I hope I’m reincarnated as a panda. I can’t get my company to pay for business class.

The Chinese are a clever people. They invented gunpowder and silk and noodles and border walls. They invented trickery, too. Their slanty eyes and bucked teeth are a government sponsored cosmetics surgery program specifically designed to get the round-eyes of the world to drop their guard.

panda2What other explanation is there? The damn Chinese tricked the country into establishing a breeding program for their pandas.

Pandas are the vegans of the animal world. These picky sons-of-bitches not only refuse to eat anything besides bamboo, but they’ll only chow down on two of the eighty-six varieties.

If my kids were as picky eaters as pandas, they’d starve.

Pandas are one animal that should have gone extinct years ago. They deserve to die out. Not only because pandas are more difficult to feed than a lactose intolerant, gluten sensitive, vegan albino with irritable bowel syndrome, the furry beasts won’t breed to save their species.

Search the internet all you like. There are only a handful of photos depicting real, live pandas mating, and I suspect they are different angles of the same pair. They’re terrible at it. I found more photos of people dressed as pandas having sex, which was disturbing in itself and something I discourage everyone from seeking out.

It’s easier to get white millennials to reproduce with each other than convincing pandas to get it on.

The San Diego Zoo has three of the remaining dozen pandas in the United States. I assume they are the same trio I never managed to see in the decade I lived in the area. It wasn’t for lack of trying. My family had annual combo-passes to the zoo and Wild Animal Park for at least half that time, so we went frequently to get my money’s worth. Each visit to the zoo included a trip to the panda enclosure, but luck was never with us. Our timing was always bad. The pandas were always at a vet appointment or a field trip or in time-out for biting a zookeeper on the ass.

Until one day, when we caught a break.

Past the signs admonishing visitors not to speak above a whisper on pain of being tasered by zookeepers, Mrs. Cunha and I passed out animal crackers (oh, the irony) and jugs of Bug Juice to the kids to keep them muzzled. In harsh tones and stern looks from video monitors, generic Asians in Mao jackets explained that pandas are sensitive, artistic animals, easily triggered into fits of PTSD by sudden movements, loud farts, and presentation of conflicting opinions.

These snowflake pandas are as bad as Antifa feminists at a Milo Yiannopoulos university speech.

Approaching the rail that overlooked the panda enclosure, our hearts buoyed at the prospect of finally seeing a God-damn panda. What we found was a plywood cutout of a panda holding a sign that read, “Sorry, folks. We’re feeling under the weather.” Clearly, this was a common enough occurrence the zoo people went to the trouble of making a reusable, long lived sign.

I ran down the nearest khaki safari outfit to express my dismay and displeasure at the dearth of pandas in the panda display.

If I had my way, we’d turn every one of those pandas into bathrobes and invite the nearest Chinese embassy to the Panda-B-Q that Sunday.

The perky young, blonde information kiosk confided the pandas weren’t really ill. Ping Pong was heat, so they penned her up with Ding Dong in the hopes a romantic afternoon together would encourage them to start pumping out little pandas. However, I was in luck, because a Panda Cam had just been installed in their little love nest.

panda3After schlepping the kids from the other end of the county to trod an asphalt midway in the summer son, the thought of voyeuring queer pandas in night-vision over the internet in the hopes they do some panda stuff was not high on my bucket list.

Even if I want my kids exposed to panda porn, I’m sure there are more efficient ways.

That’s why the Chinese kick our ass in trade. They take poorly camouflaged cousins to raccoons with the dietary requirements of a kosher anorexic and convince America to create a breeding program for animals so blasé about the survival of their kind they can hardly be bothered to screw.

If Donald Trump wants to make America great again as much as he claims, he will deport the rest of those alien pandas and their anchor baby cubs. That will teach China. Let them breed their own pandas.

And send Margaret Cho with them, for good measure.

 

3Thank you to every one of my readers for coming back week after week. The content on this website is free to access, but does take resources to produce. Please visit my Patreon account to see what I have in the works and consider becoming a supporter. Patronage will get you additional content, behind the scenes access, goodies not available on the main site, and unique Thank You gifts for support.

L'homme Theroux CoverIf you’d prefer something more tangible in return for supporting my work, please preview my novel L’homme Theroux and consider purchasing it, if you enjoy the sample chapters.

Advertisements

Time to Pay the Piper


With the inauguration of Donald Trump, an awful lot of celebrities should be leaving the country soon, if their previous pronouncements are any more believable than campaign promises. With any luck, Hollywood will soon be a veritable ghost town, leaving a void where the all-to-rare original thought for a movie plot can take hold and flourish.

I get it. Peter Parker was bitten by a radioactive spider to become Spider Man. I didn’t forget from the last movie.

Just for giggles, I collected a list of the scum and villains who promised to vacate the wretched hive that is the United States in the event of a Donald Trump presidential victory. Some I recognized. Some I had to take the word of my good friend Google that they were part of the Cool Kid Club.
A couple of them threatened to leave the planet entirely. It’s a prospect that’s quite appealing until the realization sets in that they would want the project to be funded by taxpayers. Considering the proclamation of University of California freshman Seth Greenberg to cut off his penis should Donald Trump build a wall along the Mexican border, threats to leave the country just don’t have the same pizazz.

This youngster definitely upped the ante in the Things I Want to See Happen category, but looking at his photo, I suspect he doesn’t have much call for its use, so it wouldn’t be much of a sacrifice.

Considering these trend setters garnered a collective shoulder shrug from the villagers for crying wolf one too many times, I wouldn’t blame any of my readers for missing the news. Each of them probably has far better uses for time than to research stupid things said by spoiled brats in a snit.
I had to do a fair bit of searching to collect the evidence. As a matter of fact, when I went to double check myself a few days ago, virtually all of the brave would-be emigrants had recanted.
Some brushed off the statements as a joke that very few people were smart enough to understand. Others claimed hyperbole. Most claimed some sort of burning bush moment of realization that they were needed to effect change in America, rather than flee the Trump Reich.

More likely, reality set it. I only wish we had as strong an immigration policy as Canada or Australia or pretty much any other country in the world.

It seems that when push comes to shove, these same brave pioneering souls, who largely wanted to ditch America for another First World country, or possibly settle on Uranus, found their destinations didn’t want them, either.

Lena Dunham

Probably best known for sexually molesting her sister, false college rape allegations, and insisting everyone find her sexually desirable, the poor child would be better served with membership in a platonic cuddle club to make up for her lack of parental affection as a child.

Reverend Al Sharpton

Tax-evading, race baiting, FBI informant Al Sharpton took about a day to realize he had been caught in another lie and whip out the “just kidding, y’all” card. I think I speak for a sizable chunk of America when I say, “We wish you hadn’t been.”

Raven Symone

We loved her in The Cosby Show. Hangin’ with Mr. Cooper wasn’t too terrible for a 1990’s sitcom. For reasons that elude me, That’s So Raven was popular, but it was downhill from there. If I had to pick between success under Disney and remaining a poor dirt farmer for the rest of my life, I’d pass on working for the Big Mouse. I swear, there is a curse on Disney talent.

Jon Stewart

Despite what Millennials believe, John Stewart began his career as a comedian, so his comment to leave the planet has a reasonable likelihood of having been a joke. Kidding or not, I’d like to see him lead the mission to Pluto. He can even decide whether it’s a planet or not.

Amy Schumer

She should be denied entry to Canada for the Pirelli calendar alone, but there’s so much more to make Amy Schumer an undesirable immigrant. If joke stealing is considered actual theft, our neighbors to the north probably won’t let her past the Customs desk.

She’s further proof that women, on average, just aren’t funny.

 

There are a whole bunch more, but it will just get boring from here on. I think I’ve made my point.
img_20161230_123607555Besides, I have to go feed Amy and Lena.

 

 

 

 

 

 

3Thank you to every one of my readers for coming back week after week. The content on this website is free to access, but does take resources to produce. Please visit my Patreon account to see what I have in the works for the homestead and consider becoming a supporter, which gets you additional content, behind the scenes access, goodies not available on the main site, and unique Thank You gifts for support.

L'homme Theroux CoverIf you’d prefer something more tangible in return for supporting my work, please preview my novel L’homme Theroux and consider purchasing it, if you enjoy the sample chapters.

Making America Feel the Bern Again


1Trump8With Donald Trump the heir apparent for the Republican presidential nomination, Marco Rubio out of the running after a defeat in his home state, and the statistical impossibility of John Kasich, who remains in the race for no better reason than to siphon votes away from Trump, we are likely witnessing the death throes of the Republican Party, as we know it. The GOP hasn’t been this badly shaken since Ronald Reagan took command of the mighty elephant.

There was a time when there was such an animal as a pro-abortion Republican. They occupied the same political space as John McCain, reaching across the aisle and begging to make friends with Democrats. So much so, that it was often difficult to tell one party from the other. Ronnie put his foot down and declared a basic tenant of Republicanism, among others, as being anti-abortion, much the same way abolitionism was a founding principle in 1854.

Ronald Reagan booted out the soft-cheese Republicans, and now, Donald Trump is doing the same thing.

Well, maybe not booting them out, so much as redefining the GOP.

Donald Trump is far from a perfect candidate. He probably won’t make a terribly good president, but he possesses the one thing of which the United States is sorely in need.

Swagger.

1trump4Despite portrayals in the media to the contrary, America still has a very substantial percentage of rough men who drink domestic beer, habitually carry a knife, and dip tobacco. This isn’t to say they are cruel, stupid, or violent. Quite the contrary. These men with the hardest of hands often have the softest of hearts. And there are huge swathes of women who stand beside these men and cheer them on.

They are people who would rather live their lives spending time with family than marching on behalf of dead criminals or picketing WalMart for having the temerity to make their lives better by offering consumer goods at low prices.

If it weren’t for WalMart and China, I wouldn’t be able to afford half the things in my house.

These men and women are the silenced majority that has been beaten down by buffoons with overpriced educations and over-sized senses of entitlement day after day after day for most of their lives.

1trump2And now, a champion arrives. A man, who despite being a Yankee and therefore suspect, speaks their language. A man who is neither afraid to curse nor insult an enemy. Finally, a candidate who doesn’t cower and immediately apologize when the opposition yells at him.

Oddly enough, the same “spit in your eye” attitude Trump supporters love about The Donald is what attracts Bernie Sanders’ supporters to him. Their worldview is completely backward and their understanding of economics is non-existent, but I’m talking about the “why,” as opposed to the “how.”

Despite Bernie squeaking out a surprise victory in Michigan this week, I get the sense that Hillary won’t take it laying down. The Clinton machine is simply too big, too well connected, and owed too many favors to not come out on top in the Democrat primary. Whether it is by a straightforward win at the ballot box or shenanigans at the convention, Hillary will be the Democrats’ horse in November.

If Bernie had any brains, he’d keep fighting up to the convention and cut a deal where he is picked as VP.

Sanders would be able to bring all those young girls the femi-hags are lamenting the loss of. He would also drag along their pussy whipped boyfriends. With the main event between Hillary and Bernie, who else is there for a Democrat to vote for in a primary?

But, nobody ever accused Bernie of being smart.

Trump is a little trickier. Short of garnering a vote percentage akin to a banana republic dictator, there will likely be wheeling and dealing in Cleveland. I doubt The Donald will allow himself to be cut out easily, but the possibility exists Cruz, Rubio, Kasich, and all the Republicans who have something to lose, which is all of them, will manage to broker the convention.

1trump3Fellow Republicans, desperate at the prospect of the hoi polloi actually having a say in how they are governed, will be hectoring Trump and involved in chicanery the moment the convention beings, but Donald is accustomed to playing by big boy rules and knows he has the high ground.

Despite their pledges to support the eventual nominee, nobody ever said anything about stacking the convention deck, so that Trump isn’t nominated.

Trump recently made the same pledge, too. However, he made that pledge from a position of strength. I suspect that not being the Republican nominee will be ample evidence to Trump that he was the victim of a conspiracy.

The only way that feeling would be inaccurate is that conspiracies are covert by nature.

When the two guys nearest you in the race begin flinging ad hominem attacks and behave like the pearl-clutching Liberals that Republicans are supposed to oppose by shouting accusations of “racist,” “bigot,” “homophobe,” etc., it’s proof positive that The Donald has them on the ropes.

You know you’re winning when your opponents not only join forces against you, but the best counter-arguments they can come up with is that you’re an asshole.

The “Republicans who won’t vote for Trump, even if he is the nominee” crowd is fairly vocal, but I wonder exactly what their plans are when Trump is put up as the GOP pick? Do they vote Democrat out of spite? Do they write in their pick?

1trump1They could try to convince Rubio or Cruz to break from the mother ship and run as a third-party. However, in addition to ruining his chances of ever being elected to anything again, both men know how splitting a part works out. It guarantees the other side wins. The “anybody but Trump” Republicans will have to swallow their pride and vote for The Donald or face another four years under a Democrat.

But the nuclear option would be viable for Donald Trump, if he is aced out of the nomination.

Jettisoning from the Republican Party and running for president as an Independent is only part of the Trump Nuclear Option, and he is uniquely placed to do it. The second part seems counter-intuitive, at first.

Draft Bernie Sanders to be vice-president.

Bernie Sanders may not understand how a checkbook works, but being a politician, he understands winning. Politicians campaign for office with the intent of winning. To say otherwise, in inane. A politician who says he doesn’t care whether he wins or loses is lying, as politicians tend to do.

That would be like buying a lottery ticket expecting that the money is squandered. Of course, the goal is to hit the jackpot. That’s the entire point and the expectation of playing in the first place. Saying anything else is sour grapes.

Bernie supporters are no smarter than the man they idolize, and would follow him like sheep.

Why should they be expected to do anything they haven’t been doing all along?

1trump5As much as the idea of a Trump-Sanders ticket might cause supporters of both to throw up a little into their mouths, remember that it is not unheard of for a presidential candidate to team up with a seeming ideological opponent for the sake of garnering a demographic he lacks.

Both Lincoln and Kennedy picked their respective Johnsons to bring them the Southern Vote.

Trump haters can take solace in hope of a continued pattern in the ultimate fate of the nominee in such a political marriage, but I believe it has more to do with the name “Johnson.”

Thinking more broadly, many a presidential nominee was not exactly the best of buddies with his running mate. Reagan comes to mind. Rumor has it, he and Bush Forty-One weren’t in the same room more than a handful of times over the eight years Reagan occupied the White House.

1trump6Deep down, I suspect Bernie knows he isn’t cut out to weather the storm of presidency lashed to the mast, and would be much happier in the all-smoke-but-no-fire life of a vice-president. Bernie could maintain his fawning fan base, while presenting Trump as the foil. Not to mention that even campaigning, Sanders looks like he is continually on the verge of a stroke. I doubt he would survive four years suffering the slings and arrows of national leadership.

Socialism always works better when it has an incumbent to rail against because it fails so abysmally in practice.

I’m sure that over the years Trump has gotten into far stranger beds with more cantankerous business partners than Bernie Sanders.

Trump recognizes a win-win solution when he sees one. Under circumstances of neither he nor Sanders being anointed as nominee for his party, this arguably last-ditch effort is a reasonable strategy for two men whose goal is victory.

1Trump7Trump wants to be President. Sanders wants to change America, but he sure can’t do it sitting in his Senate seat. A far more significant benefit for the nation, assuming Trump can lure Bernie into a partnership, is showing the political establishment on both sides of the aisle that their grip on power is tenuous and they will be punished for ignoring too many of their constituents.

At the very least, such a union would reshape the fundamental nature of the Republican Party and align it more closely to how everyday conservatives in flyover country believe. Which is what the current crop of second place finishers claim to represent. And if it ultimately destroys one or both of the parties, that’s fine, too. Both lost touch with reality a long time ago.

Sometimes, you just have to let Rome burn. Nero did the right thing.

 

3Thank you to every one of my readers for coming back week after week. The content on this website is free to access, but does take resources to produce. Please visit my Patreon account to see what I have in the works for the homestead and consider becoming a supporter, which gets you content, behind the scenes access, and goodies not available on the main site.

Social Media Fatwas


Gallows1The power of words continues to amaze me. As a writer, really a story teller at heart, the power of certain words in the right order and context is something I should have committed to memory as triggers for violent responses by now, but I haven’t. Provoking someone into temporary insanity is not typically my intent, but it sure is fun to watch someone turn purple and see the spittle fly while talking. The urge to grab the hot-wire on an electric fence is something that has stayed with me from my youth.

Either I’m not terribly bright, some sort of masochist, or just have a need to stir up trouble. It’s quite possibly a combination of all three.

Challenging authority is about the closest I get to having fun most days. I’m not talking about slapping a cop and trying to outrun him or anything silly like that. That’s just a losing proposition all the way around.

BullyThe authorities of the world whose noses I like to tweak are the finger-wagging, self-appointed sort; the ones who enjoy issuing scolding comments such as “That’s not funny, Carlos” and the more sinister “Anonymous is watching,” followed by copying me on a snitching e-mail to the CEO of a social media platform, the Director of the FBI, and the President of the United States demanding my account be deleted and I be investigated on hate crime charges.

I shit you not. This has happened more than once.

It’s funny how people stop laughing at your jokes when you go after their favorite sacred cow.

Hell, it says “Gallows Humorist” right there in the biography blurb at the top of the page. Don’t you own a dictionary? Kittens and rainbows aren’t my style. I’m upfront about who and what I am, so if I’m not your brand of whiskey, my advice would be to find that little button that says “unfriend” and move on with life.

1cryingbabyAs a writer dependent on other people coming to read what I write, the best way in the world to hurt me is to ignore me.

By the way, if you want to see the really dark side of my sense of humor, come on over and follow me on Tsu, where I post more content than either my Facebook profile or page.

I have always liked a good fight, and punching up is the best way to get one. Otherwise, it’s just being a bully. All through school, my favorite activity in class was to ask the teacher a question I was reasonably certain he didn’t know the answer to. God help any History professor who gave a hint of knowing less about a given topic than I did. I can sense weakness, and that’s when I would pounce.

1526598_10202809029686590_400593032_nPerhaps I would have had more respect for the teaching profession and those who filled its ranks had they the stones to admit their lack of knowledge on a specific topic. Up and down the line, all the way through Graduate School, it was a rare duck willing to admit ignorance despite demanding it from the pupils. I tried pulling my crap with Hall Heffelfinger exactly once.

The older I grow, the more frequently I find myself disagreeing with his historical analysis, but to Hal’s credit, he was one of the precious few who would say, “I’m not familiar with that. Give me the five second version,” instead of telling me to shut up because I was disrupting the lesson plan.

Here’s a hint for instructors of any subject. Nobody gives a shit about your meticulously timed and robotically delivered lecture. You should be thrilled to have students who go outside the assigned reading and come prepared with curve balls to throw.

If you treat your teaching career like batting practice, don’t be surprised when some kid who takes the game seriously comes along and makes you look like the bush leaguer you are.

Speaking of bush leaguers, I have fallen out of love with Megyn Kelly of Fox News after her little spat with Donald Trump.

MegynIf you didn’t watch the Republican debate, Kelly came out swinging on Trump’s first question demanding Trump prove he was not a misogynist. In the course of a fairly pat answer, Trump ad libbed a line about Megyn Kelly not treating him very well with the nature of the question.

The last guy who should expect or complain about not getting fair treatment is Donald Trump. The circle he has operated in over the past quarter century is rife with absolute (figurative) killers who keep women like Megyn Kelly as concubines and make the politicians who shared the stage with Trump look like boy scouts. Hell, Trump owns half the politicians that were on that stage, and the other half owe him favors. Trump’s a brawler among a bunch of talkers, which goes a long way to explaining his frequent inarticulateness.

Watching Trump at the debate was like watching my grandfather when all six of his daughters came over for the holidays. The poor man couldn’t get a complete sentence out before those yammering broads descended on him.

Donald_TrumpAt least one reporter agreed with Trump and me that the question was remarkable enough to ask about it the next day. Trump pretty much said Megyn Kelly was bitchy with him because she was on her period. Honestly, I hope he’s right because the alternative is that the darling of Fox News and Conservative media is turning to the dark side by asking feminist-inspired “gotcha” questions that have no right answer. Kelly might as well have well asked, “Mr. Trump, do you still beat your wife?”

Megyn Kelly is supposed to be this hard-bitten chick who can hold her own with any man. If she can’t take the occasional punch to the ovaries, she has no business being in the ring. And in what may or may not be a terrible coincidence, Kelly is taking a couple weeks off. Whether this vacation has been planned for months, as the Fox News camp claims, it still comes off looking like Megyn Kelly had to take some time off work to brush the sand out of her vagina.

If you feminist gals want to play with the big boys, you should be prepared to take one on the chin occasionally and not run off crying to your mother.

Don’t expect to find a baby shower at a boxing match. And certainly, don’t be upset to find two men beating the Hell out of each other when you get there.

If you find what I write or post on social media to be beyond your personal taste, whether that be racist, sexist, xenophobic, homophobic, uncouth, or whatever is offensive today, save yourself some effort and go patronize some other content outlet you find more acceptable. Call me an “asshole” on the way out the door, if it makes you feel better.

I send a dollar to a starving child in Zimbabwe each time someone calls me a name. I’ve been promised a lion hunt, if I reach one hundred thousand. Even the smallest donation helps fill little M’kimbe’s distended belly.

There is no end of people vying for your reading attention who post positive affirmations, pictures of kittens, and say “Namaste” to each other. That and Al Gore is pretty much what built the internet. I’m sure they’d love to have you stop by after declaring you will never read my stuff again.

Don’t forget to unfollow me, unfriend me, and block me as you leave. I’d also suggest deleting me from your browser history so you never have to risk seeing my drivel again.

JihadForDummiesIf you absolutely feel the need to declare a fatwa and mount a social media jihad against me, I say “Thank you” for two reasons. First, each person you induce to come by and heap scorn upon what I create is simply another set of eyeballs to drive up the website statistics. Secondly, your friends like what I have to say more than you do and are converted to fans at a far higher rate than you imagine.

So, please, let the hatred flow through you and onto me.

Unlike Megyn Kelly and the humorless “Namaste Mafia” faction of Liberals (and believe me, they are Liberals whether they realize it or not), I can take a punch to the face pretty well.