Posted in Blogdramedy, Humor, News, Views

What To Pack For A Trip To Saudi Arabia

(Author’s Note: due to the time difference between the United States and Saudi Arabia, it’s tomorrow’s post, today.)

Dear President Trump:

Congratulations on your trip to Saudi Arabia! I know you can’t wait to get out of the country and we can’t wait for you to leave.

The timing couldn’t be better, by the way. *wink wink*

The White House says you’ll also make stops next week in Israel, Belgium and Italy. The trip is “a chance to visit places sacred to three of the world’s major religions while creating face time with Arab, Israeli and European leaders.”

Just to be clear, when your staff say “face time” they don’t mean “FaceTime” like the FaceTime that’s on your phone. You’ll be in the room, talking face-to-face. With actual words coming out of your mouth. Hopefully you won’t say something that will make our sphincters clench.

Your staff was too busy contradicting your tweets, accidentally or on purpose or because they haven’t a fucking clue, so here’s a note on what to pack.  A kind of what-to-take; what-not-to-take in words of few syllables. I’d draw but I can’t draw and I freely admit that. I like to be honest as much as possible, which by the way, if you’re on the fence, yes. You should pack that.

Leave the women at home. Especially if they have a driver’s license.

Now, Kellyanne Conway is a bit of an enigma. (Look it up. With your attention span, I know my time is finite. Look that one up, too.) Are gnomes asexual? Your call and if she becomes a problem, you can have Secret Service lock her in her hotel room with a manual on microwaves.

Sean Spicer. You should definately take him. He’s spent so much time with his head up his ass, he’ll feel right at home in a head scarf. Maybe one with bunny ears. To match his bunny outfit. Because something tells me he’s going to be hopping from one hot-button issue to another.

Ted Cruz. That’s a tough one. With or without rompers?

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Looks like Anthony Weiner will be heading to the big house (prison, not the White House but I can see how that could be confusing) later this year, so a vacation overseas might be what he needs to take his mind off 15-year-old girls. But if he asks, no, he can’t use your phone.

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Michael Flynn is out of a job as National Security Advisor. If he’s not already on his way to Russia or Turkey, he could be a good traveling companion. And you seem to like him. A lot. You defend him like you and he are more than bros. We don’t know what he’s got on you. Yet. And maybe Politico got it right…

White House officials said Trump has told people to pass warm messages to Flynn if they speak to him.

Warm massages…whoops. I mean messages. My bad. But seriously. Passing notes back and forth is something eight-year-olds do in history class. Which explains a lot actually.

Stephen Colbert sends his regrets. He says there’s no room for him in the #brierpatch and the thought of being on Air Force One with no escape pod is making him break out in zits. But he said to tell you not to worry. He and his staff writers will be behind the curtain, taping everything.

Pack lots and lots of ties. Boring works for you. And really, you can’t pull this off.

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I had James Comey on the guest list originally. Then that thing happened, with the thing about the thing. What a nut job!

Last thoughts. You’ll need some speeches. I know how much you hate to get up and talk about yourself in front of other people. I’m looking at an advance copy of one speech you’re “writing.”

“We are not here to lecture — to tell other peoples how to live, what to do or who to be. We are here instead to offer partnership in building a better future for us all.”

You give good satire, sir.

Posted in Humor, News, Too Full To Write

This Week’s Major News Headlines In Musical Numbers (Thanks Eurovision!)

Howdy all.

So, yesterday was the finale of the Eurovision Song Contest 2017 and I’m sad to say that the United Kingdom didn’t place very highly at all (as for the winner, well done Portugal!)

In honour of the musical masterpieces displayed this year (and every year) in the Eurovision Song Contest, I thought it would therefore be fun to sum up some of the biggest news articles of the last week from around the world in musical numbers 🙂

Hold on to your hats, glasses, purses and umbrellas folks, here we go.

 

Bruce Dickinson – Laughing in the hiding bush – Sean Spicer, Not So Bright Eyed and Bushy Tailed

When it comes to delivering daily (mis)information (including the biggest and best whoppers that any press pool has ever witnessed. Period!) Sean Spicer is not one to beat around the bush or to hedge his bets. His attempts to explain and justify the daily horrors that spew out of the current US Administration are admittedly tricky business. He plants his words carefully, even when they are laced with seeds of doubt announcing the daily nefarious actions of his flip flopping boss.

This week however, Sean found himself in a bit of hot water and lost in the wilderness, as Trump laid waste to FBI Director Comey on Tuesday evening, in a move that left many people in the press reeling as to why Comey was being fired in the midst of the investigations into Russian collusion in the 2016 Election.

As for poor old Sean…well, he was pretty much doing this when the press came knocking at his door for answers…

SeanSpicer

News Source:- Sean Spicer ‘hides in bushes’ as reporters look to question him over Donald Trump firing James Comey

 

The Bangles – Walk Like An Egyptian – Ancient Mummies and Improving Tourism

Yesterday also happened to be Mother’s Day in the US, so it seems fitting to have a story about Mummies in this ‘playlist’ too.

Egyptian archaeologists have discovered an ancient burial site holding at least 17 mummies, most of them fully intact, which could date back two millennia. The mummies themselves are believed to be approx 2,300 years old, which is exactly how old Mothers feel after dealing with their toddlers for a day.

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Nowadays though, with shows like the The Walking Dead surging in popularity, I think that there is a much more appropriate term for our tireless (and very tired) Mothers who do everything for their kids.

Mombie

News Source:- Mummies found in Egypt ancient burial site

 

Foo Fighters – Learn To Fly (because if not then in Japan it’s going to be death from the skies)

Over in Japan, things are very much turning into The Fifth Element, Back To The Future and possibly even Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (if you are old but still young at heart like me).

Flying cars are becoming a reality? Cool, I guess that means we can strike one of these off the official list! Also, don’t get me started on time travel, I’d probably go back and change so much that it would be a full time job and I’d have to uninvent it just to lead a normal life. Hey, maybe that happened already and that’s why we don’t have time travel right now. I think I will put “Invented Time Travel” on my CV, now that I have the rationale for why it doesn’t currently exist. Genius! 🙂

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News Source:- Toyota ‘backs flying car project’ in Japan

 

Flight of the Conchords – Foux Du Fafa – Macron defeats Le Pen and he writes her out of the big picture

It was nail biting stuff in France this week, as Emmanuel Macron squared off against Marine Le Pen in an election that could have resulted in another potential political disaster with a female Trump equivalent from the far right taking up the reigns of France.

Stressed

As with Trump and Brexit, I thought that this result would end up going pear shaped too and bring on an early heart attack for me and rest of the free world.

However, Macron went on to have a two thirds vote landslide victory, which is heartening to see, I honestly think that it will be for the benefit of the country and the European Union to have Macron steering the ship, particularly since he is very compassionate in a lot of his policies. It would also appear that two thirds of the voting population of France agrees with me.

My Doctor is going to be happy now that I can cancel my anxiety medication prescription for a week at least (or until the next Trump Executive Order gets drafted up).

CatastropheNews Source:- French election results: Emmanuel Macron says France facing ‘immense task’ to rebuild European unity as he defeats Marine Le Pen

 

Weird Al Yankovic – Livin’ in the Fridge – Food safety at home and abroad

Nice try Time magazine but you aren’t going to scare me away from my fridge! Also the filthiest place in my kitchen is actually the kitchen (until I’ve tidied it up).

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News Source:- These Are the Filthiest Places In Your Kitchen

 

The Bonedrivers – Gimme’ Lightning – Because every News Report talks about and finishes with the weather even if it is all the way over in Instanbul

I got nothing for this one. I just wanted to include both this excellent song and Istanbul as another international location 🙂

Istanbul

Actually, let’s finish this news entry with another song about the weather too by one of the very best bands in the world.

News Source:- Fatih Mosque is seen as lightning strikes over the Istanbul skyline during a thunderstorm on May 7, 2017 in Istanbul, Turkey

 

And that’s your lot for this time round.

Want more musical inspired news? Or just want to suggest other songs that I should check out myself? Then drop me a line with your suggestions and maybe it can become a regular feature 🙂

Thanks for reading, hope you had fun and until next time, keep dancing friends.

Posted in Humor, Meerkat Musings

Is it our Turn?

I’m feeling somewhat subdued as I write this, and I know the reason why. No, it isn’t the various and on-going political nightmare that is Brexit, or the equally frightening nightmare that is Trump, it’s something that we Brits manage to moan about each and every passing day – the weather. It is, currently, shocking.

You see, we are now in May. We are well and truly into spring. The weather is supposed to be taking a turn for the better, so why is it getting bloody worse?! Isn’t it our turn for good weather, for warmer weather, for sunshine? I have pictures of my little girl sitting in the garden at this time of year, enjoying the glorious outdoors. There’s no chance of that right now, and it’s getting right up my nose.

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Eh, this post is boring. Everyone knows Brits moan about the weather. I live in a desert. Try that for once.

I suppose he’s right. I could have it worse. A lot worse. But I’m pissed off that I still need my coat to go to work, even now! And it gets even more stupid from there! You see, I need my coat, but by the time I get to work, I’m sweating! What the @!”% is that all about? (wait, can’t you swear here?). How can it be both too cold and yet hot at the same bloody time?!

No, I don’t live in a desert, or the Artic, or anywhere that experiences hurricanes or tornados. So I have a lot to be thankful for, weather-wise. But us Brits have a deep yearning to lose our pasty-white skin and for once, look tanned and healthy. I’d show you pictures of my chest*…

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Oh dear God no!

… but who wants to see a milk bottle?

It’s even about enjoying the simple things. It’s nice to be able to sit down in the garden, and read my book. It’s quite quaint to take dinner in the, erm, outdoors (in the outdoors? Is that right?). Imagine being able to look at the stars on a warm summer’s night, cold beer in hand… it’s the stuff dreams are made of! A cold beer on a cold night just isn’t the same…

I don’t know if there’s a God. If there is, then I pray for summer. Or at least spring. We can’t go on with this weird, miserable, never-ending winter we seem to have. This isn’t the North, I am not a Stark, and Winter isn’t Coming – it should have been and gone!

*for anyone who was sincerely traumatised by this suggestion, I have set up a helpline to help you deal with your situation. It may be too late to prevent nations from crumbling, but if you call 0800 -B-L-E-A-C-H-M-Y-E-Y-E-S you can address this trauma!

Posted in Humor

Yo Wassup G-Spot!

Yes I’m lazy. Here’s an old gem from back when I used to write.

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Good news, I found the G-spot. Turns out we’ve been looking in the wrong place, it’s actually located at the intersection of Route 206 and Monmouth Road just outside of Mt. Holly, New Jersey! For the record, “topless” is not spelled “t-a-p-a-s” – Boy, was that ever an embarrassing discovery!

First, a quick hats off to Carrie Rubin of The Write Transition for bringing this nugget of medical news to my attention.  Apparently, a physician in Poland claims to have located the exact location of the infamous “G-spot” of an 83 year old deceased woman during the dissection of her remains.

OK – now go back and re-read that last sentence over again and explain how any card-carrying wise-ass could fail to find at least 20 good jokes in there.  To Ms. Rubin’s credit, she merely used the G-Spot reference as a teaser to get lots of us readers all…

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Posted in Humor

Interview with the ghost of America past

****))))Special report((((****

To boldly glow where no ghost has glowed before.

“Harry!  Give me one of those low-fat organic berry surprise bars!”  I yelled out, straightening my perfect bright yellow dress accessorized with red beads, a red belt and red shoes.

“Here ya go,” Harry said, careful not to touch my perfectly coiffured nails and salon softened hands with his filthy ones.  I took my usual 2 bites and threw the remainder back to him for disposal.

“You’ll be on air in 3…2…”

Holding the microphone with nails accented in cherry red, I began my investigative report.

“I’m here at the ruins of a family home nestled on the base of a mountain in Virginia.  Reports from the construction crews say that some old lady in a print dress and apron keeps chasing them away from this…this hovel.”

Harry pointed to a construction worker wearing a hard hat, wanting me to interview the filthy creature, but I wasn’t through showing off my outfit to the world.  I detected laughter though my earpiece and heard Harry say, “No, Mr. Rodrigues, she’s not a ghost hunter, she’s an overpaid reporter who’s too stupid to know better, but don’t tell anyone that.”

“I hear you loud and clear, Harry,” I frowned.  Harry mumbled to Rodrigues, and the guy covered in horrid pieces of nature stood across from me.  Good…this view featured my best side.

 “Mr. Rodrigues, tell us about your experience.”

“Some white woman with grey hair comes out of the house and everything goes flying,” he said, as if that sort of thing happened every day.

“What, exactly..goes flying?”  I asked patiently.

“Yesterday we lost a steam roller,” he said, as if 20 ton pieces of equipment catapult into the air every day.  “I had to climb down from that tree.”

“It has to be 100 feet tall,” I scoffed.

“Exactly 112 feet,” he said. 

“We’re walking up to a house overrun with huge pine and oak trees,” I said.  My grubby companion ran toward Harry. “Where are you going?”

“She hasn’t killed anyone yet, but no one wants to be the first to die, either.” 

I walked toward the entrance, waiting for the door to continue creaking open.  “The walls are falling down, there are no windows…how can anyone live in a place like this?”

“You came a calling to my house dressed like a clown to ask me that question?” a woman’s voice giggled.

Harry and Mr. Rodrigues inched toward me.  Then the damned fools stood behind me like I was the one who was expendable!  Somewhere in the depths of my childhood, I remembered a few of the manners mother taught me.

“May we come in?”  I asked.

“If you promise not to try and destroy anything,” she said. 

A rat scampered across a bed of rotting leaves, remnants of thickly made wallpaper stubbornly refused to lose their adherence and I said to Harry, “Looks like nature took care of that for her.”

The wallpaper began to grow like ivy around the walls, then the shiny wood floors, circular rugs, and simply beautiful wood furniture appeared.  She casually sat in a rocking chair on homemade padding sewn together by hand.  I thought about how much I could get for one in pristine condition if I sold it on Ebay.

“There’s a few things in the world you shouldn’t never believe, starting with ‘we’re the government and we’re here to help,’” she said.  “The second one is ‘I’m a reporter, I’m here to tell the truth to the world.”

“You’re one of those people!”

“As in ‘this is Germany and Jews are those people?’”

“You’re the type that think no woman should have an abortion,” I said with great umbrage.

“Not all red-blooded Americans believe you have to bring any baby in the world that’s conceived,” she said.  “Lord knows I’ve seen my share of deaths in war.  I’d call that a very, very, very late-term abortion.”

“That’s a surprise.  What about places that sell late-term abortion body parts to foreign scientists?”

“I’m against it for a different reason.  If some Hotty Toddy Richy Rich wants his genes shored up, he needs to die off.”

“That…that’s so violent!”

“If you haven’t noticed, this is a violent universe,” she said.  “Your ruby red slippers aren’t going to save you from it, Dorothy.”

“My name is Shirley, but that’s beside the point.  Aren’t the devout supposed to go forth and procreate?”  I asked with a wry grin.

“Shirley, anyone with common sense can see that we don’t need 7.5 billion people, nor do we need land developers destroying our forests to build condos for worthless people who couldn’t survive for more than 2 days without electric and water. You can’t shoot food with a TV remote.”

“Then…Let’s move on to guns.”

“A woman with those shoes isn’t going to have the common sense to carry one,” she said.

I looked down, horrified that my right shoe was scuffed!  “They’re Italian leather!  Oh, God!  They might be ruined!”

“Common sense says you wear boots in a forest,” she chuckled.  “What do you think the 2nd amendment is for?  Hunting?   No, it’s because people with no common sense can’t understand why no one with a brain wants a global socialist government.  We’re supposed to shoot the bastards who want to destroy our country and our Constitution.”

“You can start with her,”  Harry said, pointing at me.

“Mr. Rodrigues,  how did you come to this country?”  I asked.

“I walked over the border with my mother when I was 6,” he said

“So you’re an illegal,” she scolded him.

“Undocumented alien,” I told her.

“What do you think would happen if you walked over the border of any other country in the world? You don’t know?  I’ll tell you what! They’re smart enough to kill you for it.”

“Guns, violence, killing. That’s what’s wrong with the world,” I said emphatically.

“Yet you were ready to throw me under the wagon when you thought I was against abortion,” she said. “What about slavery…hell! What about people like you?”

“What?”  I laughed at her.

She pointed to my red plastic vintage necklace.  “I remember those beads.  I bought them on sale at McCrory’s for 50 cents in 1960 as a Christmas gift to my granddaughter. “

 “I doubt that,” I said with a sneer.  “I paid $20 for these.”

“You paid a fortune for cheap plastic only a child would wear?”  Her laugh was almost a cackle.  “We’ve established you are, as my granddaughter would’ve said, clueless. Let’s talk slavery.  Where do you think that dress was made?”

“Indonesia.”

“Slave labor!  You support slavery, but they’re not in your backyard so you don’t care.”

“I do not support slavery!”  I yelled at her.  “I believe in equality as greatly as I believe in saving the environment!”

“You used a limo to come here.  Your crew used a truck and equipment that needs rare elements to function.  You used more gasoline in a day than my entire town used in a month!  But that pales against what the Earth can do to itself. One super volcano explodes and the Earth is a dead zone for a hundred years.  One meteor, one solar flare…”

“I get it, but humans have to be responsible!”

“How much garbage do you throw out each week?”

“My maid does it.”

“Would you say one bag?”

“Probably. I recycle, too.”

“There are 125 million families in the USA.  If each family threw away 1 bag, that’s 125 million garbage bags a week. Where do you think it goes?  Mongolia?  It’s rotting on lands that once held lush forests.”  She stood up, announced, “This interview is over,” and disappeared.

I fell, butt first, onto the old flooring when the furniture and wallpaper crawled away.  I had to brush the rat poop, leaves and dirt off.  “Look what you’ve done!  I’ll have to throw this dress away!”

Her face appeared as a glow, her voice fading into the distance. “Throw yourself away instead.”

My witnesses refused to corroborate my story and my editor ordered a psych evaluation.  My psychiatrist ordered a test for some sort of fungus that causes hallucinations.  He recommended a holistic health clinic he runs as a side business. I feel much better now that I’ve had chelation therapy and an Immunoglobulin infusion made from 1000 plasma donors. It was well worth $75,000.

My injury and resulting mental trauma was sustained on the job, so my boss couldn’t fire me.  I’ve had three people fired for laughing at me though…workplace bullying is against the law.  To mark off the last item on my revenge list, I asked Mr. Rodrigues and Harry to meet me for drinks, my treat.

“Why didn’t you tell my editor what happened?”  I asked them.

“There’s no footage to prove it,“ Harry said.  “That guy from IASS was on the news while you were inside your haunted house.  He said it was a terrorist attack.  They arrested 3 mountain men for it and people like you want the 2nd Amendment repealed.”

“But…a ghost is doing it.”

“Do you know why Rodrigues and I have survived this long?”  Harry asked.  “No? We keep our heads low and our mouths shut when it matters the most.”

“But, you can talk to me.  We’re just having drinks…”

“…while your recorder is running,” Harry said.

They walked out, I turned off my recorder and began to wonder why people like that were allowed to live.

Posted in Attitudes, Blogdramedy, Humor

Humor. It got me through the week.

I overdosed on Trump this week.  It was my fault. “Just one more article,” I kept telling myself, fully intending to avert my eyes from the cake-batter mess unfolding across computer screens around the globe.

Thankfully, Trump has yet to lessen the tribe of writers and bloggers who are determined to expose him for what he really is…a man who lies even when it’s in his best interests not to lie. This trait is burrowed deep into his psyche and guides his every act. There is no hope he will change. Because people with serious personality disorders know when they do something that is morally or ethically wrong. The difference between them and us? They just do not care. And will say so to your face.

I had enough this morning so bounced over to The New Yorker and found these two gems. Humor…it does a body (and mind) good. *smile*

Happy Easter!

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