A Contract With America Mulligan?

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Back in the 1990s, my homeland’s ideologue Republicans, moonlighting / gaslighting as InFerior Decorators, had fabricated a window dressing political platform and promptly dubbed it The Contract With America.

Just how inFerior / rickety was it?

Well, to paraphrase journalist Major Garrett, it was all akin to opportunistic Republicans challenging the gullible American electorate to a few rounds of metaphorical miniature golf. And, it wasn’t long after this dim, diminutive platform collapsed than the easily duped discovered it had been little more a Republican diversionary tactic akin to a sand trap filled with quicksand; where liberty, truth, justice and ethics go to die.

In other words, average Janes and Joes failed to realize they had been buying into rightwing leadership that was (and forever shall be?) akin to the leader board glutted with the names of unprofessional golfers; tired white men playas, who could do little more than reduce America’s Links to a golf course that’s been utterly obliterated; wrecked beyond repair by Grand Canyon deep divots; with nary the possibility of an ideological mulligan / do-over. Hell, such Republicans rarely, if ever, can get ANYTHING right; not even after a second stroke; let alone the third, fourth, fifth… well… you get the idea.

Of late, unprofessional golfer and XXX prez Donald J. Trump has been toying with the notion of concocting his own Contract With America mulligan. Seeing how he doth not possess even the slightest inkling of a cogent, good intentioned thought, zero doubt, his new contract / plot has already been ghostwritten by a Republican flunky or two, or three, or four, or five… well… you get the idea.

Now, owing to Trump being a certifiable narcissist and would-be fascist / organized crime don / thug / hoodlum, were he able to muster a moment of truth in advertising, he might even manage to..

Rebrand that bygone Contract WITH America as
Don Trump / Corleone’s Contract ON America.

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Limer-ICK! (1 Quick Limerick #105)

The Fascist is hell-bent on human rights harmin’
His brown nosers act-out in freak show, alarmin’
Their mouths drool praise for Sir Grump,
Slick puckered lips smooch his rump?
And cheeky tongues morph into surrogate Charmin™?

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Shush Such “Shus” ‘Tudes

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PREFACE: If any of this poem’s words hit home; i.e., describe any of your own homeland’s educational, spirtual, corporate and/or governmental head honchos, they must never be flagged as true leaders. Hmm, having barely survived D.J.T., might that make me a leading authority re this leadership vacuum?

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Arrogant, swaggering, pompous, officious
Ominous, discouraging, disheartening, inauspicious
Impolitic, incautious, inappropriate, injudicious
Evil-intentioned, vindictive, malfeasant, malicious

Malevolent, malignant, gross, corrupting, pernicious
Nefarious, degenerate, fraudulent, flagitious
Vulgar, indecent, crude, caddish, lubricious
Mercurial, erratic, neurotic, capricious

Robotic, monotonous, dull, tedious, repetitious
Shifty, unsavory, shady, devious, suspicious
Money grubbing, rapacious, covetous, avaricious
Ruthless, overzealous, unbridled, vile, vicious

Clandestine, cloak-and-dagger, covert, surreptitious
Irrational, groundless, preposterous, superstitious
Revolting, cold-blooded, serpentine, vermicious
Treasonous, rebellious, riotous, seditious

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Sweet Dreams Are (Not) Made Of This

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Upon awakening from a lifetime of recallable dreams, I’ve frequently mulled over the feasibility of online dream journaling. However, I’ve resisted making my slumbering nightlife an open book, mainly, because I’ve deemed my content, by and large, to be akin to a bedtime story; in other words, a real yawner. Uh, that is, up till this early a.m., when my R.E.M. sleep story seemed a bit more worthwhile and interweb interweave-able.

It all boils down to a specific dreams’ recursive, bothersome nature; of late, the bizarre manner in which my unconscious mind has been prioritizing a particular narrative; has become unduly fond of (unproductively?) sorting out my time served within a peculiar, particular gated community, a.k.a. Retail Hell (initially, as a sales rep; later on, as an entry level manager).

The, perhaps, unsolvable mystery, here, is why there’d even need to be a nocturnal rehashing of this epoch of my life; these dreams ARE playing out nearly 13 years following my injury-forced early retirement. Additionally, I’d hardly categorize more than 5 of those 30 work years as worthwhile and satisfying. Hence, my headline’s negation of the 1983 Annie Lennox / David A. Stewart’s song title, “Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This”.

Possibly, it’s my having pissed away nearly forty-five percent of my entire life within that milieu, which would account for this phenomenon? Might there simply not be enough of my other life experiences to draw on? My gawd, it’d be bat crap pathetic, indeed, were my so-called career the only aspect that had ever defined me.

Getting down to the actual dream details, they are, at best, phantasmagorical; the slew of farcical / surreal workplace settings, facial flashes of both wretched and wonderful big bosses and fleeting glimpses of the revolving door co-workers who’d been treated just as shoddily as I. Other mystifying dream elements include my neither showing up for work nor completing my assigned tasks on time, utterly failing to carry out the most mundane of work routines and, in the process, completely mucking up everything; all of which, runs totally counter to the actual facts; corroborated by my rock solid, top-notch, annual job performance reviews.

As for “the why” to my experiencing these (worthless?) dreams, the only working theory I can dream up is how that bygone era of my work life had been a walk in the park; when compared to staggering thru today’s zombie apocalypse.

Such an assessment of tough times, doth summon forth the 1967, James Anthony Dean / Paul Riser / William Henry Witherspoon, R&B/Soul musical masterpiece, “What Becomes of the Brokenhearted”: these songsmiths’ lead lyric, “As I walk this land with broken dreams” aptly setting the world stage.

Once juxtaposed, such a sentiment is totally relevant to the coronavirus pandemic, which has devastated, debilitated and decimated humanity; to a society sickened by the plague of racial inequality, police brutality, gun violence and mass shootings; to the delusional domestic terrorist sleeper cells, who await their collective alarm clock to go off; to trigger the unleashing of their deadly and destructive plots; all of which could, someday, trump Trump’s own, wide awake nightmare; his fortunately failed January 6th attempt to hack America to death.

Indeed, Sweet Dreams Are (Not) Made Of This.

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To whom it may concern…

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To whom it may concern (be you many or few):
When you espy us, how do you construe?
Our X-OneNation, ISO its glue;
And devoid of its vertebrae, too.

How would you treat pseudo science reliers?
And defeat global warming deniers.
And anti-maskers; social distance defiers.
And all the rest of these wisdom decriers.

Would you deck out, all decadent folks?
Decked out in brown shirts or white hoods and cloaks.
Who’d reinstall OrangeMan; instill his hoax.
Who’d call on wild insurrection to coax.

How would you fight all who deepen each schism?
Out the “devout”, who flout their catechism.
Fire the pushers of each evil ism.
Devotee voters who’d fight FOR Fascism!

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No Joke

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Didja hear the one about the MAGA mad hatter & hater of all
ejumacation? Within mere minutes after his very first day in
Kindergarten began, he, first, cut class; next rushed down to
the principal’s office to query, “Is this where I go to drop out?”

See, my headline is the truth, whole truth and nothing but the
truth. Did I not tell you nothing about this post would be funny?

The way I typically end nearly all my blogs is dead serious, too!

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NSFW* TrumPorn Riddle

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What visuals do Trumpers jack and jill to?
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Pix of ill-gotten pots of gold & cash caches;
Inundating, cyclonic (un)natural disasters;
Police brutality that targets people of color;
Mass murder incidents’ grieving survivors;
Traumatized, wailing, caged kids & infants;
Human poverty, misery, infirmity & death;
Klansman, Nazi and DJT MAGA hate-fests;
Replays of the January 6th Insurrectionists.

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* Not Safe For World

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Fools’ Fool’s Gold

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To be sure, the whole truth, always needs to be told
‘Bout the risks, ever-present, of the Wolf in the Fold
‘Bout a ne’er-do-well narcissist, who just bluffs he is bold
‘Bout a “man” crotchety / corpulent; marbles comb-overed / old

To be sure, the whole truth, always needs to be told
‘Bout his bad “isms” screeds, that treat good folks so cold
‘Bout the automaton autocrat, formed from Adolf’s mold
‘Bout his greed, grift, power grab; to maintain his choke-hold

To be sure, the whole truth, always needs to be told
‘Bout the plutocrat dealer, whose soul to Satan was sold
‘Bout us clear thinkers, who must now warn his cult; scold
Your Graven Image, ungodly, is only made of Fool’s Gold.

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Yep, it’s really as simple as that!

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For the life of me, I cannot begin to fathom why some folks still feel cultlike devotion for a particular, peculiar, narcissistic, Fascistic fusspot.

While I seriously doubt that any of you, my readers, DO fall into that category, nonetheless, I’d still like to explain why I, most emphatically, DO NOT!

Anyway, who knows? One or two of the misguided might, someday, stumble onto this site. That said, let’s roll…

Long blog short, authoritarian rule affects me, not unlike that sinking, sickening feeling one gets when…

  • During that once in a lifetime job interview, you get the first whiff that tells you that you forgot to use your antiperspirant / deodorant.
  • Your city council rezones your lifelong neighborhood to allow for the construction of a new sewage treatment plant.
  • The very first time you set foot outdoors wearing new jogging shoes, you step into a pile of fresh dog shit.

In other words, Fascism Stinks!

Look, I do get it. Some folks do not feel complete without a dictator dicking up their existences. Note how I didn’t say, “… dicking up their lives.”

But, damn it, not all of us would ever want to exist that way. We really want to live our lives to the fullest! And damn it, you cannot… correction… must not ever force your odious governmental preference upon the rest of humanity.

So, how can everyone peacefully co-exist?

Well, those of you, who are deeply into subservience need to learn to sate your boot licking urges privately. To e.g. that…

  • Seek, find and perhaps even wed a life partner, best described as a till-death-do-you-part control freak.

Not ready, yet, to make such a lengthy commitment, you say?

  • Well, in that case, why not try working your way up (or is that down?) by trying out a control freak boss?

Yep, it’s really as simple as that!

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Fortune Cookie Blog (Dodo Doo-Doo)

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Whenever harmful, hateful, hurtful, hoax loaded content rears its ugly head
in the form of Tweets, it’s akin to posters baring their ugly rear ends; taking
dumps in public. Seeing how both indecent exposure and public defecation
are against the law, when Twitter bans such violators of their Terms of Use,
it is to always promote ordinary decency; not impose inordinate censorship!

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