Posts Tagged ‘Cheeto Benito’

Let them eat loans

January 25, 2019

Wilbur Ross, The Man in the $600 Embroidered Slippers, doesn’t understand why federal workers idled and/or unpaid by Darth Cheeto might choose to visit food banks instead of the other sort.

Well, for an appetizer, even idled and/or unpaid federal workers like to eat at least once a day.

For the main course, unlike regular banks, food banks don’t require collateral, charge interest or repo your lunchbox.

And finally, for dessert, idled and/or unpaid federal workers know they won’t have to look at some bogus billionaire wearing $600 embroidered slippers while doing business with the food bank.

Yes, yes, yes, it’s another low-fat, low-interest episode from Radio Free Dogpatch. Bon appétit.

And remember, Wilbur, the Big Dog always eats last.

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• Technical notes: This episode was recorded with a Shure SM58 mic and a Zoom H5 Handy Recorder and edited in Apple’s Garageband on a 2014 MacBook Pro. The background music is “Stay Away,” from www.zapsplat.com. That dog enjoying a meal comes from peridactyloptrix at www.freesound.org. And “Ahoy, polloi,” lifted from “Caddyshack” using Rogue Amoeba’s Audio Hijack.

Girl Scouts to pay for Wall?

January 10, 2019

Eat me.

With neither Mexico nor the United States interested in underwriting his dreams of a Wall, President Wally O’Steele has proposed privatizing the project by handing it over to the Girl Scouts of Southwest Texas.

“They’re gonna have to sell something a helluva lot tastier than Thin Mints to make the nut, but that’s how the cookie crumbles, amirite?” slobbered O’Steele, flanked by his alleged wife Melons, wearing a Girl Scout uniform three sizes too small and lobbing condoms and poppers into a mostly empty Luby’s parking lot in McAllen, Texas.

“No Brownies!” he added, digging with a stubby finger at a crust of Adderall clogging one nostril. “Not on this side of my Wall, anyway.”

In other news, Samsung’s new washer/dryer lets you decide when you’d like it to explode.

Days decrease, and autumn grows

October 10, 2018

Yesterday’s clouds were a harbinger of mildly unpleasant weather,
the sort one expects in October.

It’s that time of year again.

This morning, instead of going straight to The New York Times to see what deviltry Cheeto Benito has been up to while we slept, I cued up Weather Underground to find out what Thor has in store for us here in our little corner of the Duke City.

Also, I was wearing socks. And pants. O, the humanity.

I already miss my summer routine. Reveille at oh-dark-thirty as Field Marshal Turkish von Turkenstein (commander, 1st Feline Home Defense Regiment) leaps into my rack. After a brief exchange of the usual courtesies it’s up and into the Columbia shorts, guinea tee and Tevas for the trip to the kitchen, where I burn an English muffin for Herself, pour a cup of joe for myself, and top off Miss Mia Sopaipilla’s kibble.

Next, open the sliding glass doors and a kitchen window. Fresh air reminds me we have two cats who haven’t mastered the flush toilet. But the litter box will have to wait. First, the news. One foul chore at a time, please.

With the international, national, regional and local butt-nuggets exhumed, examined and expunged, and a second cup of coffee to wash down a snack of some sort, it’s time to generate a bit of bloggery and/or paying copy before embarking upon some healthy outdoor activity.

Here we have another indicator of the relentless passage of time, as reliable as falling leaves. Come autumn, Bicycle Retailer and Industry News and Adventure Cyclist reduce their frequency of publication, and my income stream — hardly a raging torrent, even in the heart of the cycling season — becomes more of a dribble, the last warm sip from summer’s water bottle.

I delivered the video teaser of my Jones Plus SWB review to Adventure Cyclist on Sunday, and yesterday the November “Shop Talk” cartoon went off to BRAIN. Now I’m fresh out of other people’s bikes to ponder, and there’s just one more ’toon to draw for 2018.

And that healthy outdoor activity? Come autumn, it’s as likely to be a run as a ride. This year I started jogging again in July; this lets me sort of sneak up on my knees, give them time to grow accustomed to the idea that we enjoy this sort of thing, before winter winnows our options.

It’s a useful fiction, one that keeps me in shorts a while longer.

Top dog

May 16, 2017

Well, I confess I’m at something of a loss here.

I’d trot out the “If Hillary/Obama disclosed classified information to the Russians. …” trope, but why bother?

I’m starting to think that if King Donald the Short-fingered were to be videotaped having sex with a Russian wolfhound atop an American flag, in the Rose Garden, at high noon on Memorial Day, Lyin’ Ryan and The Turtle would shrug their shoulders, mumble, “It’s just the president, screwing the pooch again,” and get back to the business of stripping the Republic for salable parts. Never you mind that the dog is on top.

Maybe when Cheeto Benito is headed home after his first big international trip we can turn out the lights, pretend we’re not home.