Happy Fourth of July everybody! As is often the case on holidays, things are getting downright weird around The Compound. Allow me to explain. First of all, if you lived through that savage storm last night, congratulations. Everyone remains intact here, though we wound up with another broken window. This, after losing 7-8 (stopped counting) windows in a recent hail storm. Last night’s breakage though was caused by flying debris in a 70mph wind. Curiously, after the storm let up, we realized that the ATF&E agents were gone. Turns out, Gigi, our very own hairdressing hydrologist and Cousin Fred’s femme fatale, called in a favor and got The Trump to recall them whence they came. That was fine with me. I was getting tired of making coffee for them day and night as they remained down on the road dialing for dollars trying to find a federal judge to sign a warrant. I would carry the pot down to the entrance gate and begin pouring into their cups. They would look at me and say things like, “Hey, coffee boy, you got high end Kansas ‘splosives in there, huh, maybe a little homemade hooch? We’ll find ‘em just as soon as we find us a federal judge.” That would be followed by general snickering as I scurried back to the main house with an empty coffee pot in hand. Soon after they left, random cars began showing up on the road out front. Turns out, they were all from a hippie commune up in southeast Colorado. Cousin Fred and Gigi had taken to social media inviting people from all over the country to come partake of our Korean Plum Wine Hooch and celebrate life, liberty, and BOOM here at The Compound. For their part, the communers brought with them pot after pot of bean curd to be shared around campfires, which were quickly set to burning. I stood on the porch kind of taking this all in and wondering where I went so wrong in life. I used to be a somebody...I had hair…I had looks...now the only thing I have going for me is cast of lunatics and more ammo than can possibly be shot off in a lifetime. Cousin Fred and Gigi were moving from campfire to campfire passing out little red beer cups and encouraging the cupees to move to the RV and fill their little red beer cups with the burning nectarish result of Mr. Kim’s careful fermenting and distillation. It wasn’t long before the pots of bean curds were passed around the fires, each person dipping their fingers into the mound of goo and then licking their fingers clean. That was followed by copious amounts of hooch. After a while, things took a real turn for the strange with the communers singing the songs of Johnny Cash while Cousin Fred accompanied them on the bagpipes…naked. I prayed for another storm, but none came. As I moved through the crowd, I realized there were an inordinate number of people with odd names and even odder spellings. I was told they had all taken tribal names. Skye, Fyre, Twyg, Bleu (stupid French), Erth, Wynd (bet she grew up in OK), Pfideaux (wore a German dog collar), Loona (she was with a guy who called himself Toona), on and on. I was in the middle of the yard watching a number of people picking the sandburs out of their clothing when my phone lit up like a Christmas tree. A notification from Twitter that The Trump was tweeting again. This time he was launching snark missiles at Kim Jong Uno (roughly translated from the Korean is “He of Weird Haircut”). It seems that North Korea was busy successfully test launching an ICBM…the I in which of course stands for Intercontinental as in, “I can hit the United States with this bad boy!” So what did The Trump do? Not a damned thing. He’s got half of the U.S. Navy plying the waters off the coast loaded with enough cruise missiles to chase North Korea’s entire population into South Korea. If you recall, after the last round of test firing, The Trump said Kim would regret it if he (Kim) didn’t knock it off. Hmmmmmm…seems awfully self-restrained for The Trump. I’ll bet the Chinese have told him they’ll deal with knucklehead. Well, they better do something quick. The Trump even tweeted that it was about time the Chinese did something! This really is the equivalent of Kim dropping trou and mooning The Trump before turning to the North Korean propaganda camera filming the whole thing and giving it an Alfred E. Neuman “what, me worry?” look. We’re doomed! That is all! Comments are closed.
|
Archives
March 2019
Categories |