Biden’s Veep: Corona Virus

DATELINE: Don’t Call Her Corona Harris!

  in-joke!

It is a shock to the system when my friend, who speaks with a thick French Creole accent, insisted that he believed that Joe Biden would name Corona Virus as his Vice President.

I had to stop and to wonder if he were speaking metaphorically. And, he was agitated with me for asking if the question and answer were “rhetorical,” a figure of speech.

Some years ago when we were talking about how he liked to go to the local pond and feed the flamingos.  I pointed out at the time that there were no flamingos in the pond, and the area was not on the flamingo migration route.

It took some time to figure out that he meant “swans,” and who could blame him for improving his English vocabulary with a fancy word like flamingo. The birds were big, had long and curved necks, and were graceful. Yep, flamingo and swan, quite similar.

However, the notion that Biden might use Corona Virus as his mainstay to defeat Trump was intriguing too. It took some back and forth for the discussion to evolve from metaphor to actual person. He knew what former candidate for president was, in his parlance, Corona Virus.

When the light dawned, and the true person he believed would be the ultimate selection of Biden came clear, I was convulsed with hilarity. It was as if we had a premonition of what nickname Trump would place on the vice- presidential nomination of Joe Biden.

Who was the black woman candidate? You may have already guessed:  the name resonates with corona virus.

Well, she can be Kamala Virus or in some places she should be Corona Harris.  Yes, he meant Kamala Harris. Oi vey.

 

 

 

Junk Food Impresario

 DATELINE: President Goya, Not Artistic

 

When Donald Trump poses with junk food, you know in your heart he’s right of heart disease. Now, the burger king of hamburglars is posing with Goya beans.

Trump never heard of Goya the artiste, but he knows his hot sauce. The picture of a United States president with cans aligned is enough to put you off your feed.

You know he’s never eaten that stuff: too healthy.

The man with thumbs up on his empty Oval Office desk is tanking in the polls, but not in the hearts of taco lovers.

A few purists of integrity might claim that the POTUS has cheapened his job to that of a TV huckster. Well, he already consults with Chuck Woolery of game show fame for advice on science and medicine.

Trump only plays a president on TV. In real life, he is an escaped inmate from some madhouse of the 18thcentury. This is a man who knows haute cuisinefrom the back of his hand where he usually spills the ketchup. Gourmands of the world have a new pinup boy, the man who loves a can opener only as a last resort. He prefers to unwrap his lunch from cheap paper.

We seldom see Trump smile except when he thinks he is making a profit. The smile on the face of this man is so fake that it ought to become the yardstick for fake news.

If hunger pains are consuming you, your president is now a man strictly from hunger for supporters who refuse to remain distant (and how we wish they’d be distant) and only wear masks when they are about to steal your election and right to vote.

If Goya foods survive this endorsement, they will be using Nazi insignias on the next K-ration can.

If Trump plugging nachos is your idea of humor, you have been outside the box with Alexander Pope far too long.  Generic fish and chips would have been adequate to put us off our feed.

Stone Monuments & Rocks in Trump’s Head

DATELINE: Trump Version of Disneyland

Mt. Rushmore or Less!

The so-called Garden of Monuments proposed by Trump will be nothing less than an ode to Hollywood versions of American heroes. A close look at Trump’s selection of heroes features a good number of 1950s TV icons—from Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett, to a plethora of Walt Disney depictions.

 

We suspect in Trump’s rock head, the faces of Boone and Crockett will belong to Fess Parker.

You may have noticed war hero Audie Murphy on this list, but not war hero Alvin York. York’s movie came too soon for Trump, but you can count on the fact that when Lou Gehrig is included, he will look like Gary Cooper.

Oh, in a show of good faith and black face, Trump includes the ubiquitous Martin Luther King, Jr., and Harriet Tubman (she’s good enough for the $2 bill but not the $20).  We expect there will be a lot of Confederate money tossed about: though he does not mention Jeff Davis or Robert E. Lee, they will have a spot in Trump’s American heritage.

 

You can put the monument park next to one of his golf courses, thereby raking in more money to the Trump Organization.

You should include George Patton (in the likeness of George C. Scott), but forget Ike. For that matter, you should include the movie star president, Ronald Reagan, but forget the Democrats like FDR or JFK. Not invited.

 

We expect there will be a spot on Trump’s Rushmore for Nixon.

 

You can find Wilbur Wright on this list, but no Neil Armstrong.

 

You can find a few foreigners like Columbus, but don’t look for any Native Americans like Sitting Bull. The only bull here is Trump.

 

 

 

 

 

Inner Circle of Jeffrey Epstein

DATELINE: Friends in High Places

Ghislaine Maxwell and friends.

The second part of the Who Killed Jeffrey Epstein  series delves into his close associates, while hinting that his accumulation of wealth may have been by fraud.

Epstein skates away from every investigation by dint of his personality, or bank account. His true rise to superpower came from a woman named Ghislaine Maxwell, a daughter of media mogul Robert Maxwell. She came to Epstein at a low point: her father died in a strange boating accident, some suggesting he was a spy for Israel and was assassinated.

Ghislaine moved into the New York residence, becoming his partner in sex crimes—procuring young girls. She was also a bon vivant and knew everyone from royals to movie stars, to celebrities of all stripes.

She and Epstein had pinhole cameras in every residence and amused themselves with video scenes of the rich and famous at parties, in bedrooms, on the private jet, and wherever Epstein set them up.

A few girls tried to escape—but they found his long reach of checkbooks would thwart any FBI or prosecution. In fact, he had a future Trump cabinet official in his hip pocket when he was a mere Palm Beach prosecutor.

Girls were plucked out of Trump’s Winter White House, the notorious Mar-a-lago. One 14-year old named Virginia Roberts began a nightmare relationship with Epstein, only escaping to Thailand when he ordered her to bring back a 12-year old girl.

By the new century, Epstein had broadened his social world to Bill Gates, Elon Musk, Prince Andrew, Bill Clinton, and scores of the richest men in the world. He redefined himself as a philanthropist despite a conviction as a pedophile. He was tied to MIT, Stanford, and Harvard, as a big donor to research. Many fell prey to his clever manipulations.

Once ensnared, many famous men were likely unable to break out unless there was payment of some sort.

Open Up the Country & Let it RIP

DATELINE: Genocide from Sea to Shining Sea?

Your Unmaker!

A small, vocal dominating force of Trump enthusiasts wants to stop any vigilance in favor of vigilantes.

They are tired of staying cooped up in the sanctity of their homes to stop a deadly pandemic. Throw open the doors. Throw open the gates, and let the barbarians out.

If they kill themselves with fever and virus, so be it. Amen and pass the ammunition: they don’t want face masks. They want freedom to cough in your face, spread germs wherever they go. 

And, it’s time to let them.

If there is a spike in dead people, they will see it. They don’t care—even if it is their own children. It is the survival of the fittest. If little Egbert cannot survive a fake flu, let him perish. We who are about to die, salute him as his casket passes.

Armed rebellion is the answer to microbes. Shoot the little buggers. And shoot anyone who seems to be part of the genocidal approach to medicine and science.

American schools have failed miserably: look what they have produced: a nation of idiots.

Let seniors have their shopping hour every week, and let them go out and face the virus. If they contract it, this will save on medical bills and social security payments. 

Open the economy: money is more important than humanity. If the United States dies in a swelter of fever and chills, let history write that the Fall of the American Empire was due to imbeciles who favored lack of manners, good health habits, and wanted a Hitler to lead them.

 In case you missed it, there is an “empty space” in Trump’s head and mind.

As everyone in the nation rips off his face mask, the White House staff is putting them on. Gee, do they know something they are not telling the rest of us?

 

 

American Presidents & UFOs

DATELINE: New Stuff from Ancient Aliens

 Kucinich & Nick Pope

According to Ancient Aliens, one third of all American presidents have had encounters with UFOs. They even mention that Thomas Jefferson, as vice president, wrote up the first report on a UFO crash in Louisiana before 1800 for the American Philosophical Society.

This is a more in-depth look at a subject they have touched upon many times over a dozen years.

The series takes on all the encounters beginning with Washington being given a vision of the future. It seems that the Americans were the chosen people of these aliens—until we dropped the nuclear bombs on Japan.

Since then, it has been touch and go with whatever is out there, perhaps even with orders to shoot them down. Is that what happened at Roswell?

There is a considerable time spent on President Dwight Eisenhower’s three meetings and agreement with the UFO creatures in the early 1950s. The series brings in Eisenhower’s granddaughter who firmly believes this happened.

There is the old story about Richard Nixon and Jackie Gleason going to look at alien crash victims in Florida. Gleason had a large UFO library and even had a house shaped like a flying saucer. As a treat, Nixon brought the Honeymooner to see dead alien bodies.

It seems Nixon was fully briefed on ancient aliens, but not all presidents were given that privilege. Nixon’s breach of security may have led to a clamp down on all future presidents being given info.

The series also starts with Tucker Carlson confronting Donald Trump who said he had an open mind about UFOs—five seconds after saying he was a disbeliever! Hmm.

The series proposes that pro-military Republican presidents were more likely to be briefed on UFOs than Democrats like Clinton and Obama.  George Bush I was actually a CIA director who had access to the MJ12, and likely was a member.

The show said that Dennis Kucinich’s admission as a presidential candidate that he saw a UFO was a career killer. So, Nick Pope takes Kucinich back to the house where the UFO encounter occurred. His private sighting may have undone him.

It is Ronald Reagan who was one of the most vocal and enthusiastic about UFOs, and it did not damage his career or presidency. He wanted to talk about ancient aliens, but his aides kept him quiet, which seems an impossible task. Reagan was allegedly (according to Linda Moulton Howe) about UFOs by CIA.

 

 

Shopping for Food in the New Age

DATELINE: Shopping as the Microbe Hunter!

 Deadly bug lurking in supermarket!

After weeks of being hunkered down with food deliveries from hapless UPS and Fed-ex drivers, we decided to brave the new world and go to the local supermarket chain during Senior Hour.

Yes, for three days a week, they have set aside one hour in the pre-dawn darkness for the old vampires to go out and do their shopping. Apparently, the belief among CDC fanatics is that people under 60 won’t be up yet.

No one checked ID cards on the way in—and we suspected a few of the spry ones were under 60.

Marketers are apparently correct. We went out in the dark, and were shocked to see the parking lot full. Not auspicious for recluses who want to avoid people. However, we were delighted to find that shelves were stocked with our favorite junk foods and comfort snacks. We passed on those, and they tend to take years off at one end of the scale.

We grabbed a couple of disinfectant wipes to use to open freezer doors to find the necessities to keep us away from this place for two or three weeks. Welcome to a new cultural phenomenon.

As we traversed the aisles, only one person wore a mask, and nary an oldster blinked. He wasn’t there to rob the joint, only looking for bargains.

We must say that we have not seen so many seniors gathered in one spot since they discontinued Bingo Night at the nursing home.

We wondered how many of these old folks were as terrified as we: worried that some unknown microbe was ready to leap into our nostril and kill us within days. Thanks, corona corona believers who say that it’s the fake flu. Oh, they tell me Trump’s ratings are improving—because lies are always sweeter than the truth, and old bears are never stung until election day.

We Like Mike & His Money!

DATELINE: Cost of Doing Business

High Priced Ticket?

Democrats are accusing Mike Bloomberg of buying the election. They seem to have missed the incident where Trump is paying money to black ministers and churches, through their local fund-raisers. Now that’s buying votes with cash.

Bloomberg is accused of spending his unlimited wealth ($61 billion is unlimited, folks) to purchase airtime on TV and opening offices, paying people to work for him.

That’s buying workers through a payroll. What’s wrong with that? Some people need a job. Who does not want to be paid for his time? Those other Democrats prefer you volunteer and receive no money for time.

There is a tinge of jealousy in these Democrat candidates, and it is understandable. These poor candidates cannot spend what they don’t have: and if Bloomberg were not a candidate, maybe he’d give that money to them.

The fact is that Bloomberg is well-positioned to beat Trump. And, that should be the name of the Democrat game. It isn’t. Small and poor candidates like Bernie do not care about anyone other than themselves. Isn’t that the bottom line? And how does Bernie differ in that way from Trump?

More than money, we have a problem with all these candidates pushing 80 years of age wanting to serve as a four-year president. It is arrogant. It is overly optimistic. It is a shade in the old-timer’s disease category.

Don’t call us ageist. We are there too. And we know our time limits.

 

 

While England Collapsed

DATELINE:  Boris Bad Enough?

 Boris Brexist

If watching the British version of Trump has any productive value, the nitwit of England, Boris Yeltsin Johnson is going down the tubes. His government is crumbling on national TV. The usually civilized Brits have painted themselves blue and are on the tribal attack, not seen since the Romans found it necessary to build Hadrian’s Wall.

Brexit’s wall is something akin to Trump’s wall, via Hadrian the Emperor (he was the guy who made his boyfriend a god).

We are now learning our history and not from the History Channel where we thought everything was a conspiracy of ancient aliens and golden treasure hunters.

It now appears that the British constitution isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. For a thousand years, politicians in England have trusted the goodwill of politics, which now seems naïve at best. There is no written constitution in Britain, and that is certainly not what keeping  the Trumpian term  “great” in Great Britain.

Indeed, Trump has wondered if England will ever be great again, or if it will continue to sleep the fitful nightmare of a leader with a massive flow of hair that indicates hyperbole lives even in the land of Queens.

TV ratings on the popular TV show about a great British bake-off have gone south. The big climax is a contest on making cookies (which the Brits call biscuits) while the government crumbles.

You can expect America’s great stable genius and expert on everything with his theory of know-nothing to enter the fray and make matters worse. It will be the red-coat revenge for Yorktown’s surrender.

 

Sen. Cracker Graham Support for K-K-Kavanagh?

DATELINE: Judge Not, Lest Ye Be Blackmailed!

 Judge Roy Moore Any Judge will do it for Trump!

Some observers are wondering why President Bone Spurs Trump’s most ardent critic of the past two years suddenly had a change of heart.

Sen. Lindsay Graham suddenly became the attack dog for the Administration at the hearings for Judge K-K-Kavanagh. His spirited hissy fit at the hearing has all the makings of a man’s manufactured indignation.

If the lady doth protest too much, then what condition has prompted cracker Graham to represent his Carolina constituents with a banjo on his knee?

He even threatened to politicize his future dealings with the judiciary, overlooking the fact that the women justices he supported were not accused of harassing other women.

He seemed unfazed that the man who picks his clerks for their leggy credentials boasted that he will surround himself with a harem of law clerks as a Supreme Court justice. Old B-B-Brett seems unfazed at the pain he is inflicting on his family to satisfy his raw ambitions. On the day Bill Cosby goes to jail in handcuffs for using date rape drugs, Brett is on his way to the Supreme Court for a similar allegation.

Can it be that the latest Trump troll is acting out of the fear of something evil coming his way? For years the rumors have persisted that Graham is a member of Dorothy’s Friends, that amiable group of rainbow singing Munchkins.

Now we begin to wonder if blackmail is at the heart of Trump support. We have seen thugs purported to have made unkind suggestions to women like Stormy Daniels by Trumpist monkeys. Can it be that the voters in Carolina may be treated to a lowdown on the downlow of Lindsay Graham? Would Trumpites sink so low? You better believe it.

So, the man with no proclivities to support date rape of women may have proclivities that he would prefer you not cast a vote upon in future elections. It’s not likely that the LGBTQ community of South Carolina wants to think of what sits on Graham’s knee.

Or if he is on his knees to do something other than pray and to do the bidding of President Bonehead Bone Spurs?

 

Tom, Giselle, Boris & Natasha!

DATELINE: Met Gala Stun Guns Again

Tom, Giselle, Boris, Natasha

Yes, right after the Kentucky Derby “and they’re off—” comes the notorious Met Gala in New York where the show horses and would-be celebrities fall all over themselves on the red carpet.

Yes, on the heels of the bizarre nature of Westworld’s second season comes Evan Rachel Wood, Kim Karadasian, and Elon Musk, on the red carpet.

Our favorite had to be Tom Brady, erstwhile ageless quarterback and his wife (the billionaire), looking like refugees from 1960s Gilligan’s Island. Indeed, you had to wonder if Jonathan Nolan had produced the glitzy extravaganza as a means to publicize his TV HBO weirdo series.

You can’t tell the androids from the guests.

What Tom Brady has had to do to cause his wife to agree to let him play for two more seasons? You have only to look at his outfit as the twosome cavorted with other Barbie and Ken dolls.

Yes, Tom is wearing nail polish. You can’t see the multi-colored nail polish on his feet. And he looks like he is storing botox in his cheeks. Yet, the rash comments that he and wife look like James Bond villains is a tad off-the-mark.

Tom is not auditioning to play Dr. No, nor Goldfinger. He is acting like a friendly Russian that would charm President Donald Trump, whose hair would have fit right in on the red carpet.

Tom and Giselle came across as Boris and Natasha, those 1960s spies who gave Bullwinkle Gronk and Julian the Flying Squirrel fits.

Halloween comes early. However, we did see Patriots owner Robert Kraft and his young Baby Mama. To our shock, Kraft was NOT wearing his blue collar/white shirt. He did have de rigueur tennis shoes with his tux.

You have to love insanity with money.

 

 

Trump’s Modest Proposal

DATELINE:  Cooking Up a Storm

trump apron strings

For a summer treat hot off the griddle, you may want to partake of a menu that caught the eye of Newt and promises a cheery Sessions of law enforcement.

The repast of yore starts with a DACA salad, with only the most tender of sprouts, with lettuce picked by illegal migrants under the hot sun.

Don’t forget to use the TPS sauce on those Haitian wings for an unforgettable dinner that Friday used to enjoy with his master Crusoe. TPS sauce can be poured onto countries like El Salvador, Honduras, and any African nation of your choice.

Home, sweet Secure Homeland, will be securer once more if you have the bug zappers in place and dis-invite any rebel republican senators who tend to be like ants at a picnic. We think the best BBQs are held behind great border walls to keep out the riff-raff.

German sauerkraut mixed with KKK-kale provides a kick that only a neo-Nazi could endure. You may want to mix that salad up with some tough police elbow grease.

Make sure you have enough alt-right to offset the Antifa pesto.  Red beets should be ready once you light the torches.

Roasted deported citizens who have a litany of civil violations always goes well with a Chianti and fava beans for those who like to watch the lamb go to slaughter. Civil rights and civilian clothes are optional.

Remember that this recipe at Kent State College once made America great. Nowadays you may want to have some congressional bicarb to hold down the dyspepsia and general sense of existential nausea after watching Master Chef Trump dump another hog into the pit.

Bone-head appetit, all you strict constructionists. The cookbook was made to be followed.

With apologies to Jonathan Swift.

Kroc Pot Founder

Kroc

DATELINE:  Your Inner Trump

Giving a tour de force performance, Michael Keaton almost wills the movie to be successful. Yet, there is the sound of Beetlejuice coming through when Ray Kroc makes his rapid-fire sales pitch. It is, at first, amusing—and then rather diabolical. It’s like watching Donald Trump’s “how to” video.

It was not the year for a movie about a Trump-style businessman in Hollywood. Just ask Meryl Streep. The Founder tells how McDonalds food chain grew to a billion-burgers-sold by hook and crook.

Other than that, the story reveals how Ray Kroc took the McDonald Brothers idea for fast food and ran with it.

Ray Kroc was not beyond taking credit for the ideas of the original McDonalds creators, but he also had to fight their small-minded integrity to quality. Kroc had traveled around the country selling milk shake mixers and recognized whatever quality McDonalds had was already ten times better than the competition in 1954.

He skimmed a little to expand the business. Shake well and stir.

When you hear Kroc’s explanation of how the Golden Arches fit in with the American flag and church crosses, you almost feel his fervor to eat a hamburger as an act of America becoming great.

What starts out as a visionary film depicting the wonderful ingenuity of the original McDonald brothers deteriorates rapidly into a tale of corporate greed, the side-effect of Ray Kroc’s vision. Beetlejuice in your head can do that.

The film has been ignored for probably glorifying crass commercialism in a Hollywood that thinks it is better than thou. This movie celebrates the Middle America out of fashion among those who hate fast food, environmental carelessness, and persistent ambition.

Dare we call them blue-nose Democrats?

You may not have to be a rugged individualist Republican to become a fan of this movie, but chances are you will be more inclined to see the virtues here among the dubious and ruthless business practices and Seven Deadly Sins.

As a movie depiction of an era and how to rake in a billion per year, this one will fascinate you– if you are willing to drive-thru.

Rajon Rondo & Malcolm Butler Kick Celtics in End

DATELINE:  Celtics Not the Patriots

 RondoLaughs

You know Malcolm Butler wants to be traded.

On the same day he signed his $3.9 million tender contract with the Patriots, he went to the Boston Celtics playoff game in town and sat behind the Celtics bench.

Followers of NBA basketball know that this has been an emotionally distressing week for the team.  Star scoring machine and tiny tot superman Isaiah Thomas has been playing despite the death of his sister in Washington state after a car accident.

The courage and determination of Thomas may serve as inspiration for most to do their job: the Belichick mantra.

Butler who has tried to orchestrate a trade out of town—and may be setting himself up for a permanent trip to nowhere else sat behind the grieving Celtics.

Butler found himself making disparaging comments to the Celtics players. What??

The Patriots have maintained a “we’re all in Boston together” attitude for years. You always expect Patriot stars to be cheerleaders for their other sports counterparts.

Butler really does want to leave town when he knocks the Celtics and sits next to them during a hideous playoff game. The only other player to do that during the game was Rajon Rondo, one-time Celtics legend, now shilling brilliantly for the Chicago Bulls as their star point guard.

Rondo looked glorious in his black Bulls outfit and creamed the Celtics with his masterful passing and near triple double.

Perhaps Butler thinks Rondo is still wearing green.

Perhaps Butler is preparing to refuse to go to the White House to meet with President Trump, set to honor the Patriots.

In the meantime, the hapless Celtics were kicked when down by a soon-to-be ex-Patriot. It’s okay, fans. An ex-Celtic is kicking the hapless Celtics into the ground too. Rondo spent the weekend walking around Boston, signing autographs and wearing prison-stripe black & white pajama bottoms to the game.

We still love Rondo even if he never goes to Patriot games anymore. We aren’t sure about Malcolm Butler.

Tom Brady & Deer Hunter

DATELINE: Super Bowl LI Trophy Kills One

Brady & Deer Hunter  Brady & Killer Trophy

Not one day after Tom Brady received a $14 million signing bonus, delayed money from the past season, he found himself almost the 20th ranking, lowly paid quarterback in the NFL.

Brady made no allusion to his windfall on his Instagram account, but rather took a shot at the liberal, anti-Trump Boston Globe with a picture of their too early headline flub at the Super Bowl. Brady cited “hashtag fake news” as part of his April Fool joke.

Yes, self-righteous and incorrect Globe had put out an edition, reading, “A bitter end.”  Of course, the Pats won that game with its historic comeback.

Brady obviously has a copy of the errant Globe—and like Harry Truman holding up a newspaper showing his defeat to Tom Dewey, Brady is lambasting the Globe on the Fool’s Day for little faith in the Patriots.

Yet, the high price of the NFL for the Patriots reached its zenith on April Fool’s Day when a major, late-season snow storm hit New England. It was a day when we covered it all: snow, deer hunting, Trump, fake news, Aaron Hernandez, and the Lombardi trophy.

The coveted and prized Lombardi trophy that Brady held high at the Super Bowl Victory Parade in Boston a scant few weeks ago, in a raging snowstorm, met an untimely accident in Maine.

Yes, a Patriot security guard, and a Maine State trooper, were involved in taking the trophy to its public appearance on Saturday. Alas, another state mascot came to a bitter end when the car carrying the trophy struck the deer. Oh, dear, the deer is no more.

The Patriot trophy is now emulating killer Aaron Hernandez.

All involved were more worried that the car accident in Maine might delay the trophy from its next big pit stop at Fenway Park on Monday. It is scheduled to make an appearance at Opening Day.

No word if any Patriots ever show up with the trophy or whether it reserves its own life, even at the cost of wildlife.