Was watching Gold Diggers of 1933 like you do and there was a baby in a basket and the baby looked, you know, a little rough, and we said: Well hey, that looks like Billy Barty. Reader, it was.
December 23, 2025 at 7:28 PM
Was watching Gold Diggers of 1933 like you do and there was a baby in a basket and the baby looked, you know, a little rough, and we said: Well hey, that looks like Billy Barty. Reader, it was.
When, my little garden steppers, did we forget how to spell ‘yeah’? How the fuck did even the most doltish of human pratfalls manage that? Halfwits. It’s not ‘yah,’ you puzzled poltroons, it’s not ‘ya,’ you fizzling fermentations of fuck-wit, it’s ‘yeah.’
December 21, 2025 at 9:31 PM
When, my little garden steppers, did we forget how to spell ‘yeah’? How the fuck did even the most doltish of human pratfalls manage that? Halfwits. It’s not ‘yah,’ you puzzled poltroons, it’s not ‘ya,’ you fizzling fermentations of fuck-wit, it’s ‘yeah.’
There was a Monty Python sketch wherein John Cleese rang a little bell and sang “Good-a-niiiight ding ding ding. Good-a-niiiight ding ding ding.” Liked that sketch. Didn’t know it was going to morph into “Hail to the Chief,” but, babies, it has.
December 15, 2025 at 5:08 PM
There was a Monty Python sketch wherein John Cleese rang a little bell and sang “Good-a-niiiight ding ding ding. Good-a-niiiight ding ding ding.” Liked that sketch. Didn’t know it was going to morph into “Hail to the Chief,” but, babies, it has.
Behold the American people with their 250 years of bespittled jabber about freedom and rebellion and bipitty bop followed by their sinking to their knees when a heap of biowaste is plopped onto the White House lawn from a wheelbarrow which directly afterwards has to be destroyed.
December 14, 2025 at 8:50 PM
Behold the American people with their 250 years of bespittled jabber about freedom and rebellion and bipitty bop followed by their sinking to their knees when a heap of biowaste is plopped onto the White House lawn from a wheelbarrow which directly afterwards has to be destroyed.
You know at his best there was a real sense that apart from the neediness and imbecility there was a physical cognitive disability to the point where you wondered why the people responsible for getting him dressed would bother with real clothes because it’s not like you were fooling anybody.
December 8, 2025 at 10:27 PM
You know at his best there was a real sense that apart from the neediness and imbecility there was a physical cognitive disability to the point where you wondered why the people responsible for getting him dressed would bother with real clothes because it’s not like you were fooling anybody.
Sure, humiliations are stacked higher than ever but stop reacting to that and pay attention instead to the foul crusted bits of himself he’s leaving as a trail, like a slug. Ignore what he does and just tell him to go toward the light. On you go. The light. Watch your step, now.
December 4, 2025 at 7:09 PM
Sure, humiliations are stacked higher than ever but stop reacting to that and pay attention instead to the foul crusted bits of himself he’s leaving as a trail, like a slug. Ignore what he does and just tell him to go toward the light. On you go. The light. Watch your step, now.
Guess which of the only two things this could be: 1, clicking his monstrous swollen empurpled corrective-shoe-clad feet together and thinking “there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home,” or 2, sans foot activity, “I wish, I wish, I wish I were a fish.” Zounds, aren't these the times?
December 3, 2025 at 10:27 PM
Guess which of the only two things this could be: 1, clicking his monstrous swollen empurpled corrective-shoe-clad feet together and thinking “there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home,” or 2, sans foot activity, “I wish, I wish, I wish I were a fish.” Zounds, aren't these the times?
Sure, I’m a poetic peak in a range of lesser plateaus, but a hard no to the position of Editorial Enabler to the Seventeen Syllable 25th Amendment Resistance Regiment, especially given what I'd have to work with:
Oh, the orifice
Slack and spongy walls dilate
And allow it all
Oh, the orifice
Slack and spongy walls dilate
And allow it all
November 26, 2025 at 8:05 PM
Sure, I’m a poetic peak in a range of lesser plateaus, but a hard no to the position of Editorial Enabler to the Seventeen Syllable 25th Amendment Resistance Regiment, especially given what I'd have to work with:
Oh, the orifice
Slack and spongy walls dilate
And allow it all
Oh, the orifice
Slack and spongy walls dilate
And allow it all
A new thing to worry about if you’re successful or possess a kind of charisma is the possibility of some slippery gnome in your path that shits itself with pleasure at any attention you give it and spittles about your feet making it both dangerous and disgusting to walk.
November 23, 2025 at 4:59 PM
A new thing to worry about if you’re successful or possess a kind of charisma is the possibility of some slippery gnome in your path that shits itself with pleasure at any attention you give it and spittles about your feet making it both dangerous and disgusting to walk.
Look, there’s nothing, or likely nothing, that the Russo/USA Kooperative Knee Klub can do to get me on board for the Patella/Froth Haiku position, though what might help is a closer eye on the incoming submissions:
Leprous pig tonguing
Anything that tells it to
All day forever
Leprous pig tonguing
Anything that tells it to
All day forever
November 21, 2025 at 9:07 PM
Look, there’s nothing, or likely nothing, that the Russo/USA Kooperative Knee Klub can do to get me on board for the Patella/Froth Haiku position, though what might help is a closer eye on the incoming submissions:
Leprous pig tonguing
Anything that tells it to
All day forever
Leprous pig tonguing
Anything that tells it to
All day forever
Really, bun-buns, that’s not the way to threaten death, goodness me, no, the way to threaten death is simply to ask nature to finish the job she’s made such headway with that it’s essentially already done.
November 20, 2025 at 11:51 PM
Really, bun-buns, that’s not the way to threaten death, goodness me, no, the way to threaten death is simply to ask nature to finish the job she’s made such headway with that it’s essentially already done.
Kinda seems like he’s leaking to death, doesn’t it? One numbed swell-footed tumble should do it. Whoops. Oh no. Somebody help.
November 20, 2025 at 9:57 PM
Kinda seems like he’s leaking to death, doesn’t it? One numbed swell-footed tumble should do it. Whoops. Oh no. Somebody help.
Well sure, yup, he’s catastrophically impaired. Yessirree bob, and he was catastrophically impaired in 2016. Gotten a little worse too. Yes. A democratically elected torso under the most charitable of interpretations. At least, right, no taxpayer purchased shoes.
November 19, 2025 at 12:12 AM
Well sure, yup, he’s catastrophically impaired. Yessirree bob, and he was catastrophically impaired in 2016. Gotten a little worse too. Yes. A democratically elected torso under the most charitable of interpretations. At least, right, no taxpayer purchased shoes.
Victory Day for World War I, eh? At this point it’s just generic canned dog food at a microphone. You could catch it and sell it. It would be easy. It’s slow, and leaves a trail. Disgusting, but easy and profitable. Wash your hands afterwards and it’s all good.
November 11, 2025 at 9:01 PM
Victory Day for World War I, eh? At this point it’s just generic canned dog food at a microphone. You could catch it and sell it. It would be easy. It’s slow, and leaves a trail. Disgusting, but easy and profitable. Wash your hands afterwards and it’s all good.
That Dagwood, boy, what a glutton, right? Also, vote.
November 4, 2025 at 10:23 PM
That Dagwood, boy, what a glutton, right? Also, vote.
Every time he posts on Truth Social it’s a medical emergency. You don’t have to call 911 or anything but it is a real and true medical emergency that you can maybe learn things from. Let it seep in without judging or feeling the need to intervene. It’s serious, but Om.
November 2, 2025 at 11:06 PM
Every time he posts on Truth Social it’s a medical emergency. You don’t have to call 911 or anything but it is a real and true medical emergency that you can maybe learn things from. Let it seep in without judging or feeling the need to intervene. It’s serious, but Om.
SF Chronicle with “Trump, Japan’s new PM talk trade in friendly first meeting.” Woof. Just how do ya top that, my little tailless pig-monkeys? Edward R Murrow, babies, from beyond the grave asking if he can borrow a pencil on account of wanting to take notes.
October 29, 2025 at 7:23 PM
SF Chronicle with “Trump, Japan’s new PM talk trade in friendly first meeting.” Woof. Just how do ya top that, my little tailless pig-monkeys? Edward R Murrow, babies, from beyond the grave asking if he can borrow a pencil on account of wanting to take notes.
It’s like they broke some inmates out of a psych ward and took ‘em to a circus and just, you know, shoved ‘em into the big tent and let ‘em roll, so they began to geek. It was instinctive. The audience, though, that was the thing. The audience was the hinge the door turned on.
October 18, 2025 at 5:34 PM
It’s like they broke some inmates out of a psych ward and took ‘em to a circus and just, you know, shoved ‘em into the big tent and let ‘em roll, so they began to geek. It was instinctive. The audience, though, that was the thing. The audience was the hinge the door turned on.
Every function has been taken over by people who can choose for themselves where to defecate and when, but you wonder why they’re letting him ooze out and hang himself in public. If this had been done to anyone else it would seem cruel. It still does, but there is no sting.
October 11, 2025 at 5:22 PM
Every function has been taken over by people who can choose for themselves where to defecate and when, but you wonder why they’re letting him ooze out and hang himself in public. If this had been done to anyone else it would seem cruel. It still does, but there is no sting.
Jake Tapper strikes again! Like a Lee Tracy character out of something maybe called “Extra!” he takes one look at Trump, cocks his hat, and says, “say, this guy’s not even organic matter anymore! Get me rewrite!” Go get ‘em there, tiger.
October 7, 2025 at 5:23 PM
Jake Tapper strikes again! Like a Lee Tracy character out of something maybe called “Extra!” he takes one look at Trump, cocks his hat, and says, “say, this guy’s not even organic matter anymore! Get me rewrite!” Go get ‘em there, tiger.
He activates your inner sadist as he totters helplessly while Nature herself takes jab after jab at the shapeless midsection and mottled jaw like she has throughout his wheezing and pointless existence and you’re reminded that he’s just a cracked bowl of jellied forensic evidence.
October 5, 2025 at 6:22 PM
He activates your inner sadist as he totters helplessly while Nature herself takes jab after jab at the shapeless midsection and mottled jaw like she has throughout his wheezing and pointless existence and you’re reminded that he’s just a cracked bowl of jellied forensic evidence.
Seems to me, flower petals, that one of the first things you’d want to do when you’re knee deep in kidnapping people in an official capacity is to identify yourself credibly, meaning via badge or some such, so as not to become, you know, bullet-ridden.
October 4, 2025 at 7:30 PM
Seems to me, flower petals, that one of the first things you’d want to do when you’re knee deep in kidnapping people in an official capacity is to identify yourself credibly, meaning via badge or some such, so as not to become, you know, bullet-ridden.
Well, possums, that made me want to stand up and salute, and, babies, he made it to the podium, didn’t he just now, lumbering like a confused elephant, the elephant in the room, right, everybody sees it, everybody has always seen it. Ssssh.
October 1, 2025 at 7:53 PM
Well, possums, that made me want to stand up and salute, and, babies, he made it to the podium, didn’t he just now, lumbering like a confused elephant, the elephant in the room, right, everybody sees it, everybody has always seen it. Ssssh.
Before the dementia he was simply an orifice, flabby and shapeless and mottled from the rigorous humiliation that was every single second of his life, and now with the dementia observers are beginning to hear “happy traaaaaails to you.”
September 26, 2025 at 12:33 AM
Before the dementia he was simply an orifice, flabby and shapeless and mottled from the rigorous humiliation that was every single second of his life, and now with the dementia observers are beginning to hear “happy traaaaaails to you.”
The response to this kind of pig-fuckery is always silence, a smirk, and non-compliance. Arguments and rebuttals and such are wastes of the breath you need for chuckling. Laugh at them, take their money, push them out to sea.
September 21, 2025 at 4:25 PM
The response to this kind of pig-fuckery is always silence, a smirk, and non-compliance. Arguments and rebuttals and such are wastes of the breath you need for chuckling. Laugh at them, take their money, push them out to sea.