 Here we are, it's Thursday. I tell you, these weeks just fly by. We're still under the gun here in Oklahoma for what all the giddy weatherguessers guess will be a lifetime snow storm. Now is the time to panic. Buy gasoline, toilet paper, beer, and milk...pile it all in a heap and set it afire. We're all going to die! Me, I'm headed to OKC for my next turn on the medical merry-go-round...it's a stress test and I was up most of the night studying...I'm without caffeine and feeling pretty stressed! We'll be back live tomorrow morning, but in the meantime, I'll keep the thread from yesterday going with another post from September 2016.
Happy Monday, everybody! I’m here in New York City, on-scene (well, actually less than 20 miles away) for the debate tonight between the two most known presidential candidates. It’s going to be fabulous…you’ll see! Arrived here Friday afternoon. There’s not been a sign of Cousin Fred, so far. I couldn’t seem to get him off The Compound to come to NYC with me. He told me he was going to try to get inside the county jail to see the Francesca. So I guess I’m on my own here in the Big Apple. Truthfully, I don’t miss him too much. I’ve not had a moment alone here in the Southern Living Magazine suite at the Grand Hyatt in Manhattan. It’s been non-stop partying…er, working. Friday night things were pretty low key. I had dinner with the virginal vegan Brooklynn Hodensack, my handler, sent by the magazine to ensure I don’t bankrupt the publication with late-night parties and the like. True to her descriptor, Brooklynn picked out an Iranian vegan restaurant for dinner. The weird part was, the owner is an Iranian Catholic named Gladys (only in NYC). I had a vegan chili (very flavorful) served over a bed of organic brown rice. The restaurant served no alcohol, so I was glad to get back to the suite where I discovered the place stocked as I previously requested. Saturday afternoon, I headed over to the debate site on Long Island. There, I received my press credentials, although the people from the Trump’s campaign were eyeing me suspiciously. The Queen of the Unindicted’s people informed me it would be a cold day in hell before she would agree to a one-on-one interview. They did tell me, half-jokingly, that Clinton the First would make himself available. Ooooh, am I happy I agreed to that! What with the Trump’s threat on Saturday afternoon to put Gennifer Flowers in the front row of the debate tonight, I knew it would make for an interesting interview. Of course, he’s only inviting Flowers to attend the debate because the Clinton side announced they’re inviting Mark Cuban to sit front and center. Cuban has apparently hinted that he will make faces at the Trump during the debate. This is going to be great television people! Must see TV! Right here! Hell, this could push the idea of holding presidential debates back into the dark recesses of television archives. Saturday night found the suite filled with students and faculty from New York University, Columbia University, and Hofstra University (where the debate will be held). There was even a cadre of faculty from the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard. It was a delightful evening of meaningful intelligent conversation against a backdrop of esoteric jazz music. This was truly the cream of what I used to refer to as East Coast Intellectual A**holes (a term of endearment, for me anyway). Interestingly, there wasn’t a Trump supporter among any of them. That disturbed me greatly. After all, you need all sides of a political set-up in order to leave the best taste in your mouth. So, I had the virginal vegan Hodensack start dialing for rabid right wingers and prepared to start blasting Ted Nugent tunes. To her credit, and my delight, she found a flock (her term) of about 50 members of the Rockaway Beach Molto Conservative and Social Club at the Rockaway Beach Surf Club having their weekly meeting. The promise of free booze and barbecued cocktail wieners with toothpicks sticking in them had the herd…er, flock…moving our way. By 10PM, the suite was rocking with everything from “Wang Dang Sweet Poontang” (actual Ted Nugent tune) to “Kind of Blue” (actual Miles Davis tune)…interspersed with spirited (more like, spirit-induced) discussions of whether the Trump is harboring a plan to build a wall to keep those pesky Canadians from crossing the border and/or whether the Queen of the Unindicted has been purposely building tunnels beneath the border with Mexico to bring in more voters. The highlight of the night was Rudy Giuliani showing up around midnight in a ball gown and red slippers. He kept asking people who they thought was the fairest belle of the ball. That was followed by Clinton the First at 1AM, who kept working through the crowd telling all the young women to call him Uncle Bill. I had the chance to ask Uncle Bill if he was there for his interview. He chuckled and said, no. That’s it, nothing else. He spent the rest of the night avoiding me and having his one-man security team do its best to block my every advance. It’s now 4AM Monday morning and the party is finally beginning to thin out after more than 36 hours. I need sleep in the worst way, but for some reason the door to my bedroom in the suite is blocked by something. No telling who’s in there. The virginal vegan Hodensack’s door is also blocked, but by a brutish looking bodyguard Southern Living sent over to protect her. The remaining intellectuals are lined up on one side of the suite reading from the 17th century work by John Milton, “Areopagitica” and then discussing his relevance in a 21st century world (it is zilch, zero, nada, by the way – trust me, I have a degree in Literature). That was only after an early Sunday evening’s stirring round of conjugating verbs in dead languages. The team on the right from Rockaway Beach is watching old Ronald Reagan speeches on YouTube and weeping inconsolably as they guzzle Brown Derby Beer (they sent out for it). By the by, as we promised last week, we are herein today, fulfilling a semi-promise to reveal signs of the coming apocalypse. Oh, it’s coming! First, we revealed a dent in the nation’s supply of fast-food. Now comes the second sign, namely, the rise of the rule-benders. They’re everywhere. It seems that two women in the township of Mehoopany in Wyoming County, Pennsylvania (I couldn’t possibly make any of that up) got into a confrontation at the Mehoopany Dandy Mart (MDM). It seems that Kimberly (mugshot above) was smoking a cigarette while pumping gas at the MDM. Poor innocent Tami (who has likely never broken a rule, let alone bent a rule), began yelling at Kimberly to put out the cig while they were both pumping gas. An argument ensued – O’ how I wish I had video of that – and poor innocent Tami threw water at the cigarette. Tami then got into her car and started to drive away when Kimberly leveled the gas nozzle and sprayed Tami inside her car with gas. Eh, gas is cheap right now, you can participate in such shenanigans and not feel like you’re wasting money. Tami, drenched in gasoline, stops her car, gets out, but before she could beat Kimberly senseless with the gas nozzle, she slipped in the spilled gas, fell down and broke her arm. Kimberly is in jail now facing assault and other charges – hopefully one of which is smoking while fueling. We are currently hard at work on our new CCB-associated web site, www.countdown2armageddon.com. Get ready, people…to be shocked, amazed, and bewildered all in one sitting. That is all! Comments are closed.
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