The bastard(s) have struck again.  If you’ll recall from an earlier post, signs have been put up in the bathrooms at my workplace to dissuade people from flushing paper towels down the toilet.  But, what do I find yesterday?  Yes!  Paper towels in the bowl and a plunger leaning against the wall.  Apparently, the guilty tried to purge the evidence, but to no avail.  Some people never learn.

On the topic of never learning, I turn your attention to the state of North Dakota.  If you’ll also recall the first wolverine in North Dakota in 150 years was summarily executed by a rancher, thus ending the repopulation efforts of this particular mammal.  Just to show you that this sort of behavior was no fluke, there was another report of human/predator interaction in North Dakota.  In this story, two young men full of fermented beverages and bad ideas, crawled up to a cage holding grizzly bears.  (There used to be grizzly bears in the wild of North Dakota as well.  But ranchers shot all of them.)  Anyway, one of the men got too close and the bear bit him in the hand.  Perhaps to avenge the death of the wolverine,  but maybe just as a general reaction to extreme stupidity.

Having recently been to North Dakota, these stories do not surprise me.  To whit, my wife and I stopped in Jamestown on the way to Montana.  If you are not aware, Jamestown has a giant bison.  Bison also used to roam the state until people shot all of them.  Pow Pow Pow.  And another Pow for good measure.  So we are driving around Jamestown and I come to a four way stop.  Actually, that is not true.  Because there was no stop sign.  I guess a more accurate way to describe the intersection would be a “four way hope like hell some drunken moron just back from wolverine shootin’ doesn’t T-bone my truck” area.  I suppose if you don’t have something you don’t know what you are missing.  Luckily, North Dakota is sparsely populated.  Particularly if you are a wolverine.

If you think I am being somehow unfair to North Dakota, you are probably wrong.  Not that there aren’t nice, intelligent people in the state.  I know that to be true.  It just isn’t encouraged.

On the other hand, I live in Wisconsin where we took away $250 million from the universities and gave it to two hedge fund managers who own the Milwaukee Bucks.  I’m sure that decision will benefit each and every one of us.  Because hedge fund managers are nothing if not sharing people.

All I am saying is that if you are a wolverine, you might want to give Wisconsin a wide berth.

Paper towel salesman, however, are in high demand.

Recently, a wolverine was spotted in North Dakota.  Amazingly, it was the first confirmed wolverine in the state in 150 years.  This wolverine was then summarily executed by a local rancher.  Pow Pow Pow.

“I told you to stay exterminated, varmint!” the rancher cried before pulling the trigger.

The tourism board of North Dakota had no comment to the concerned wolverine community.

In other animal news, visitors to Yellowstone Park put a bison calf in their car.  I guess they thought the calf was cold.  They took it to the park rangers who looked at the people in bewilderment.

“WTF?” they asked.

“The little guy looked cold,” replied the tourists.

“It is a bison,” the rangers answered.

“A cold one.”

The rangers tried to take the calf back to the herd where it belonged.  Unfortunately, the mother of the calf would not accept it back.  Caveat Emptor, I suppose.  Worse, the calf seemed to have gained a liking for human beings.  It kept walking up to people and sauntering across the road in front of traffic.  What a  stupid bison.  Perhaps its brain had frozen a bit prior to its being saved.  Anyway, the rangers finally shot the bison calf.

On a nearby mountain, the ghost of a long dead railroad magnate watched.  When the bison calf went down, the ghost sang out with glee.  “I told you to stay exterminated, varmint!”

Then he turned to his friend, the ghost of a long dead Cavalry colonel.  “So, whatcha’ doing for the afternoon?”

The Cavalry ghost shrugged and twisted his long, blond specter mustache.  “Don’t rightly know.  Maybe we can go on down to the reservation.  There could be a car accident or overdose or somethin’.”

“There are still Injuns about?  Tarnation!  What in the hell has happened to the world.  It’s overrun with varmints these days.”

“You don’t know the half of it.  You should see who they are lettin’ into the bathroom.”

“What’s a bathroom?” said a long dead settler.  He pinched a ghost louse from his greasy ghost hair and held it out for inspection.

The ghost Calvary man pulled his pistol from his belt.  Then he remembered he couldn’t kill somebody who was already dead.  “This is most frustratin’,” he said.

“What?” the ghost settler said.  “Hey, what’s that?”  The former farmer phantom pointed movement in a thicket behind them.

The railroad magnate spirit squinted at the brush.  “It looks like a damned wolverine.  That mangy thing looks like it walked all the way from the Dakota territory.”

The three ghosts watched as the wolverine walked past them.  The wolverine seemed like it was in a bad mood.

“I hate those damned things,” said the Calvary ghost.  “I kilt everyone I ever seen.”

The wolverine stopped and turned to the Calvary ghost.  It snarled and leapt toward the crotch of the military specter.

“Aiiiiieeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!” screamed the ghost as the dead wolverine clamped down on the apparitions testicles.  “Aiiiieeeeeee!!!”

On the road below, an RV pulled to the side of the road.  Two tourists got out.  They looked very concerned.

“What do you think that was?” the husband asked.

“I think it was that bison calf in the meadow, screaming in pain.”

“Oh, no.  We should save it,” replied the husband.

“WTF,” said the bison calf.

 

I hear the Republicans in Texas are going to vote on Secession.  I put “Secession” with a capital “S” because they really mean it this time.  They are mad as hell and they are going to take it anymore.  Y’all.  Fixin’ fer a fight, as the Texans put it (or so I have heard- I’ve never been to Texas).

Apparently, the folks down Texas way have a truck with the taxes they are paying.  Too much they say.  Federal government is overstepping its bounds they say.  Yeehaw and Howdy they say.  Interestingly, the federal government is actually paying more to Texas than Texas is paying out.  Dangnabbit, Texas.  You are a welfare state.  Everything is bigger in Texas.  Even deficits.

One can assume, however, that once Texans get full control of Texas they will immediately be able to turn their economic fortunes around.  Pow Pow Pow.  Just imagine all of those little Yosemite Sams shooting their guns in the air while they make fiscal policy.  Pow pow pow.  No taxes for anyone!  That’ll balance these here books right up.

Unfortunately, it might not be that easy for Texas to secede.  What about the Dallas Cowboys?  They are America’s team.  I think I smell a lawsuit brewing.  For that matter, what about the Houston Texans?  Will Texas have to create an alternate to the NFL?  It’s not impossible I suppose.  Look at Canada.  But not for too long or you’ll go snow blind.  Either that or  turn into an Eskimo.  One of the two.

Texas will also need a new system of government.  After all, they don’t like ours.  May I suggest a hereditary monarchy?  We haven’t had one of those around these parts for quite some time.  The Bush family would be the obvious choice.  I can see George W. and Laura being led into the Cowboys stadium for the inaugural game of the TFL (Texas Football League).  Their national anthem could be “Don’t Mess with Texas.”  It is so beautiful in my imagination.  And only white folk for as far as the eye can see.  It is like an ocean of magnolias.

Austin.  Now there’s a burr in the saddle.  How in the hell did a liberal outpost end up in the middle of Texas?  And become the capital!  It’s a damn conspiracy from those northern liberals.  No matter.  Austin can be its own country inside of Texas.  Kind of like Luxembourg or the Vatican.  Austinbourgacan.  Move the capital to Lubbock and be done with it.

Texas might also think about a new name to celebrate their change.  You know, kind of like when a man name Phil Scott has a sex change and changes his/her name to Destiny Starr.  (Lone Star?  I’m just throwing mud on the wall.)  Not that Texas in any way condones that sort of behavior.  Believe you me that there will be no homosexuality, transgender living, or Charles Darwin in the country of Lone Star.

Anyway, may I be the first to wish the country of Lone Star luck.  Though I do have some bad news for you.  You are sitting on a whole bunch of oil.

And you know what that means.

Pow Pow Pow.

Another Mother’s Day has come and gone.  As you know, Mother’s Day is a time of celebration where each of us shows our appreciation, not only for our own mothers but for all of those wonderful mothers out there who make this country great.  Without mothers, where would we get soldiers?  Of course, not all mothers are so great.

Kris Kardashian has built an empire using her daughter’s sex tape as a springboard (no pun intended).  This empire has now extended to her younger daughters who, incidentally, now have two mothers.  If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.

In fairness, Kris is a bad mother, but there are worse.  Take the case of Megan Huntsman of Utah.  She confessed to fatally strangling six of her newborn babies from 1996 to 2006.  A 2014 search of her home revealed six dead infants who had been stuffed into cardboard boxes.  Apparently, God told her to do it.  I guess Mother’s Day is not a priority in heaven.

And who can forget the stepmother in Hansel and Gretel?  “Ditch those kids in the woods or I’m going back to my mother’s.”  That wasn’t very kind.  Luckily for Hansel and Gretel, living with their stepmother provided them just the training they needed to defeat the witch.  There is a silver lining to every cloud.

Mothers can also make you a serial killer.  See Norman Bates and Jason Voorhees.

There is a lesson to be learned here.  Your mother isn’t that bad.  Yeah, maybe she shouldn’t have pushed you to join the dance squad or been so uptight about you getting into the Ivy League, but such are the vicissitudes of childhood.  And, to be fair, kids can be kind of irritating.

As usual, I digress.  In the end, we owe our mother’s much.  We came from their womb, after all.  We should show them respect, not only on Mother’s Day but on every day.

But don’t get weird about it.  I hate that.

Trump wins, bitches!  I tried to tell you.  But you wouldn’t listen.  You refused to believe.  But I’ll bet you believe now.  Look over there.  That is the body of the vampire Cruz, limbs twitching, a stake planted firmly in its black heart.  Look over there.  It is Kasich, wandering in the wilderness in his night shirt, unsure of how he got here or who he even is.  Pow.  And another Pow.  The people of the Republican party have spoken.

If you think this was some sort of fluke, keep in mind that 17 people tried out for this gig.  Seventeen!!  Even Scott Walker, the google-eyed homunculus of the great state of Wisconsin.  He didn’t last long, Koch brothers or no Koch brothers.  Now he is choking Eddie Murphy who is saying “It was the Kochs, it was the Kochs.”  Don’t worry.  Either you have seen the movie or you haven’t.  If you have, you’ll realize I am hilarious.  If not, don’t blame the MO for your ignorance.  Educate thyself.  Because the Republicans sure as hell aren’t going to put any money toward it.

Anyway, we can get at that wall now.  All we need is several hundred miles worth of concrete blocks, four mountains of rebar, a sea of mortar and an army of concrete workers.  Luckily, Mexico has provided us with a cheap labor force.  Oh, yeah, we are building the wall to keep them out.  Silly me.  Maybe we can all chip in.  We can all make America great.  Or at least make a Great Wall (I am assuming China hasn’t trademarked the phrase Great Wall- if they have, well, sue me.  Or sue Trump.  It was his idea.  I’m just laying block down here in the hot, hot sun.)

By the way, when can we start detaining Muslims?  Since we are building that wall, we can just loop it around and build a corral.  Allah Akbar!  Get in your corral, Akmed.  We don’t like your kind around here.  Unless you are like a heart surgeon for rich guys.  In that case, we can make an exception.  We will also make an exception if you are related to the House of Saud.  Don’t want to piss off those guys.

Once again, I digress.  This post should be a celebration of the greatness of American Democracy.  Let Freedom ring.  Freedom ain’t Free.  “Freee-dommmmm,” says William Wallace.  Free Tibet.  Free Tacos.  Free Bird.  Free visits at the Free Clinic.  Speaking of Free Clinics, Donald Trump said that avoiding STD’s in the New York single scene was his Vietnam.  And you think this guy isn’t presidential?  Balderdash.  Regardless, he has come through the fire while all of the other rats have abandoned ship.

In the end, it is the Orange Cheese who stands alone.

The Cheese stands alone.  And he is an excellent cheese.  Ask anyone.  He is the best cheese ever.

Have you watched cartoons lately?  I hadn’t until the other day.  You see, I was channel surfing when I came to cartoon.  Foolishly, I watched the damn thing for about thirty seconds.  It was horrible.  Horrible!  It is not funny when some little cartoon kid is screaming all the time.  Where are the parents?  For that matter, where are the coyotes or talking rabbits (or talking moose)?

Speaking of moose, do you remember Boris and Natasha from the Bullwinkle and Rocky show?  They were Cold War Russian cartoons.  You don’t see those around anymore.  Largely because the Cold War is over.  The Russian economy collapsed and took good cartoons with it.  Those cartoons had witty allusions meant for an adult audience.  Everyone in the family could enjoy them.  That was when America was great.  We had good cartoons, a white man as President, and an enemy the country could rally around.

Now we are relegated to making our own enemies.  I mean, if we didn’t keep meddling in the Middle East what would we do for an enemy?  It’s not like Guatemalans are coming over the border any time soon.  Well, not armed and en masse.  When I was a kid we had drills in case of a nuclear war.  Talk about a good scare.  The teacher would tell us to get into position and then we would scurry under our desks with a hardcover textbook over our head (this is a true story).  We did this because textbooks are a great deterrent to a nuclear blast.  The force of the bomb just peters out when it runs up against a stubborn Phonics book.

I notice there are no cartoons with Muslim bad guys.  It’s not really the Muslims fault.  But they just don’t compare to the threat of Soviet missiles.  As a sidebar, I wonder what happened to all of those missiles.  I know that somebody has them.  I’m just curious as to how they were meted out.

“One for Belarus, one for the Ukraine, three for Russia, one for Chechnya…just kidding.  I didn’t drink that much vodka.  And I was kidding about the Ukraine one, too.  I remember Chernobyl.”  (Read this with a Boris Badenov accent.  It is hilarious.)  “And aim the virst one at the Mooze.”  Hahahaha.

Maybe I can start a petition to reinstate Boris and Natasha.  The state could own the rights to the cartoon.

But only if Bernie wins.

As a sidebar, do you think that Hillary Clinton watched cartoons when she was little?  I know the answer.  I was just trying to imagine her as a child.  I find it very difficult.  It is much easier imagining her eating a child- fresh from the cauldron with a little Picante sauce.