Monday, December 29, 2008


Because Congress made the laws the members who voted "Yea!" must obey. Many who voted "Nay!" may change their mind in an act of solidarity. When the bill, at last, is passed, to defy it is a crime, big time.

Corruption should be a capital crime, punishable by hefty fine and time in a federal pen tough enough so the guy/gal will think twice times two for ever doing it again. And let the sentence be determined by a hard nosed judge or a jury who won't be budged to pardon the perp.

Justice must not just apply to you and me and all law abiding citizenry. Even the powerful who flaunt the court and break the law and steal and cheat and beat the rap are just saps when they get done and no one is there where they'll be for a hot eternity without a friend in the end.

In many past administrations those who violated laws and resolutions and even the Constitution, the courts ignored or over-ruled on appeal. Even high officials, from presidents on down to small town cheaters must pay their dues when they lose. A true democracy cannot afford or long endure when backroom deals are made and the rule of law is ignored. When opportunists realize our freedom is on sale, they won't fail to grab their piece of the PUNKIN pie.

The point is this. We cannot miss the opportunity to prosecute violators of the law to profit financially and politically under the slipshod stewardship of an incompetent president. Once George W. Bush, the all time, big time liar/denier is out of office he must be put on trial. He and his ilk have milked America long enough.

Thursday, December 25, 2008


Listen up, everyone, the deal is done. Obama won the prize. He' s the kind of guy who really tries. His goal: to change the world before our eyes.

He has the will, the skill, the imagination, the determination, the dedication, the one to tackle the job and get it done.

He's not a hotshot politician with single, one track vision, too obstinate to modify or revise an unrealistic position. He's not a do or die denier. He's a man with soul on fire. He won't tell lies, make false claims, call names to shame the opposition. He's not out for gold or glory. That's the story. The Continuing Drama of Barick Obama.

Our new president calls for change. He knows he can, he knows he will, he'll work until the job is done. Heed his word. Climb aboard. He looks toward a new tomorrow. He's right. He sees the light. He might prove to be the savior of democracy. The last Great Hope of Humanity.

Thursday, December 18, 2008


What was the barefoot bomber trying to say when he threw his shoe at Dubyu? He was off target just like the war gets day by day as the D.C. Dodger misbehaves and heaves away. The aim was rotten, but the purpose not forgotten.

The-time has come for Dumbya to pack up and leave Iraq. To which we add: Barack's gonna bring our GIs back. And that's an Xact Xlax fax.

Here's a tip for the Drip who lost his grip when he was a lad at his mommie's "spritz,'" Take a long one-way trip on a leaky ship to the Island of Don't Shivagit and don't come back. All your friends in D.C.---two or three (approximately)---- wish you well on your stay in hell. You're worth it for what you did to life on Earth.

Best wishes for all you little Texass Bushes. Now that Dubya's out and Obama's in, a better life should soon begin with Laura seving up the gin while the good old boys jaw about why they didn't win/steal the whole damn deal.

The Texy twins can renew making news guzzling booze like Daddy doos. And Daddy can go on dodging shoes and sneering on cue like he used to do.

Thursday, December 11, 2008


I once loved the bachelor life. Now I need a wife to cook and clean, wash my clothes, sew and darn, warm my bed, butter my bread, slice my meat, wash my feet and clip my nails, listen to my tall tales of woe, grow old with me gracefully.

I need a miss to grant my wishes, wash the dishes, don't get fat, feed the cat, walk the dog, mow the grass, shovel snow, hear me when I'm low, wash my hair and underwear, jump in the sack without yakityyak, calm my nerves, have nice curves, serve me tea, light my cigarette, wipe me where I get wet, shine my shoes, darn my socks, check my stocks, wind my clocks.

I'm a big fat slob, got no job, steal, get caught, rot in jail if you fail to pay my bail. Don't give a damn, If on the lam serve me cookies, milk and jam while you lullaby me off to sleep, you Creep!

Now you no good so-and-so, powder your nose, comb your hair, wear clean underwear, we'll steal a car, go to Joe's Bar where the preacher waits to tie the knot. By the way, what's your name? I forgot. Thanks a lot!

Tuesday, December 09, 2008


With hands held out amid fear and doubt. the "Big Three" of the auto industry head for D. C. riding on the passenger side of a compact car all the way from Detroit, USA, to Washington.

Save the auto industry! We'll do anything you say. We can play the OK game. Smaller cars, less HP, let George Bush push with his tush. Use his ass gas instead of bio-mass. Let that slime get us to Detroit on time.

Man oh man, is this the can the customer craves to save a buck? Why not buy a truck with overdrive and drive away for ten plus ten and a spare to spare, plus less hot air?

Let us come back, Barack, with a sack of rebate dough. Just drive slow past the banks we owe. And, if you can, save us from the repo man.

Wednesday, December 03, 2008


Sen.John McCayn was aiming for the big event, president. He went to great extent to explain who he is and why he is most qualified to steer this year's victory train from his Arizona desert home to the jungle world of Washington, D. C.

This decorated, dedicated Navy flyer, a prisoner of the Viet Cong, for more than five years, remained silent and strong, faithful to the USA, a hero in every way and merited his nomination as the nation's GOP candidate--- proud and patriotic, gung ho, on the go!

To emphasize his dedication he supported the Iraq war above personal ambition. He was on a mission to protect the population from terrorist attack. To stress his patriotic dedication he said he'd rather lose the race for president and preserve the peace.

But still his goal from the beginning was winning. He assured voters he knew how. He "had a plan" he'd reveal if elected. He'd tell how to turn the economy around. He bragged alot, campaigned alot. That's all we got. Politic rhetoric. Either John's ideas were sham or losers just don't give a damn. They lick their wounds, wait for winners to make mistakes, then choose to use oppositon miscues to win next time. Ain't that a crime!

When all's said and done, the side that's won has earned the help of those who lost, no matter the cost of political pride. Sharing and caring are, no doubt, what patriotism's all about.

* * * * * *

Barack is making dreams come true. The GOP has joined him, too. The coalition's building steam. With all this going on, where is John? Where is John?

Tuesday, December 02, 2008


Politicians, like quack physicians, make believe they're magicians who can diagnose critical conditions and hope, by hocus-pocus, the problem will go away and everything will be OK.

The theory is there's something sick in the economy and the cure for this disease is drop more money in the pot. If that does not hit the spot, a trillion more, a billion less, will solve the mess that's causing financial distress.

We've traded in our stethoscope for a placebo called hope, just another name for centsless dope, that might pump more blood into the veins and brains of CPAs and PhDs, Wall Street brokers and banker clowns who earn more bucks when UPS are DOWN.

No miracle pill will do the job. Put more dollars in empty pockets of workers who repair streets, build schools, use tools made in US factories, hammers, nails and garbage pales, bathroom scales, railroad rails, tin cans, bedpans, electric fans, bridge spans and vans and trucks that ship them to Wal-Mart stores. What about stylish clothes we wear to share our big fat derriere with anyone who cares to stare, bras that cause the oohs and ahs, all the high priced high spiced pies and cheese and gooey gourmets that create the wiggles, jiggles, swish and sways.

You see, it's not what we do to pad the purse a buck or two, it's not bargain sales, the diet that fails, it's cars we make, steaks that give us belly aches and bigger guts that cause waste around the waist that will put us back in first place in the economic race.

Depression? Recession? We've learned our lesson. The answer: just a lot of fressin'. That'll keep the experts guessin'!