Back about a gazillion years ago when I was a kid growing up in the Cretaceous Period, when mighty dinosaurs still roamed the Earth and people were, well, Cretaceous, I lived in Northern Illinois, about 45 minutes southwest of Chicago. (It’s 45 minutes or so now, but back then, since we had to go by wagon train, it was more like a road trip of a couple of days, and there was always the fear of Indian attacks, although nowadays they wouldn’t be called “Indian” attacks, they’d be called “Native American” attacks. Of course, there was also the fear of being attacked by roving gangs of crazed midgets, which these days would be referred to as people who are “vertically challenged“.)

Even though my parents were mostly moderate Republicans, at least as I recall, they subscribed to and read the daily Democratic newspaper, which was the Chicago Sun-Times…I have never understood that, but there you are. (I also thought until I was about six that my first name was “goddammit”…that I do understand.) In those days, the dominant Republican newspaper in the Midwest was the mighty Chicago Tribune, a paper founded back in the 1850s and closely aligned in those days with Illinois’ favorite son, Abraham Lincoln; in later years, the “Trib” stayed predominantly conservative under the guidance of Colonel Robert R. McCormick, the grandson of the original founder and the namesake of the eponymous exhibition center in Chicago, and was a staunch supporter of everything GOP through those ensuing years until in 2008 when they shocked the right-wing, Tea Party world and endorsed another native son, Barrack Obama, for President.

One of the things that the Sun Times had going for it back then that the Trib didn’t, although I’m fairly sure it wasn’t why my parents took the paper, was an “advice columnist” who wrote a daily column under the heading “Ask Ann Landers”. Yeah, that’s right, exhaust fans, the Ann Landers franchise was originated in my home town of Chicago, a town also renowned for its toddling. (Chicago is further well known as being the home of deep-dish pizza, Al Capone, the worst team in MLB, the Chicago Cubs, Mrs. O’Leary’s cow, topless turret lathe operators, “the Bean” and as having one of the finest art museums in the world, the Art Institute of Chicago, which the city fathers were originally going to name the “Art Institute of Hoboken”, but since it was located on Michigan Avenue, just south of Chicago’s famous “Loop”, they decided that AIC was a lot better, one of the few things the city fathers ever did that made any sense.)

“Ask Ann Landers” (you thought I forgot, didn’t you?) was started by a lady named Ruth Crowley back in 1943, and was eventually taken over in the mid-50s by the woman who put it on the map, Esther Pauline “Eppie” Lederer; I never read the Crowley version, but even as a kid, I thought “Ann” rocked.

                                            FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!                                          

…dit-da-dit-dit-da-dit-dit-da-dit-dit-dit (that’s supposed to be the sound of a telegraph, which gives you an idea just how friggin’ old I am)

We interrupt this column for breaking news from the RUKME News Desk…

-Dateline Washington D.C.

“President Declares War On Planet Zatox”

President Donald “Tweety Bird” Trump today announced that he was declaring war on the planet Zatox and as Commander in Chief would direct the Joint Chiefs of Staff to immediately mobilize the Space Farce Corps for a direct invasion of that planet. President “Tweety Bird”, in explaining this extraordinary move, said the Zatoxians were guilty of “many bad things, terrible things that some experts, and these are great experts, believe me, have said were terrible, like, well, the Zaproxians are originally Yo Semites, and many, many years ago they denigrated from Earth to a new planet and, you know, they’ve done these terrible things like doing experiments on people they’re abdicated and taken up in their spaceships. And the Democrats and Nancy Pelosi have let them do this, ever since the Civil War ended back in 1926, and Kamala Harris is a Zahoxian by birth, according to some other well-known and really great, great experts.”

More on this breaking story as it becomes available…

…and now back to our regularly scheduled blogpost, like it or not.

“Ask Ann” wasn’t just an “advice for the lovelorn” column, although she did give plenty of pointers to people who wrote in about having problems with their wife, husband, girlfriend, boyfriend, pet llama or that special Zatoxian in their life. No, “Eppie” was a non-discriminating advice columnist…if you had a problem or a concern or a beef with whomever, whatever, “Ann” probably had an answer.

A lot of what people wrote in about (yeah, WROTE, you know, like pen and paper, a typewriter, crayons on construction paper, WRITING, none of this sissy texting or emailing or Skypeing or any of that other digital bullshit) was “relational”, i.e., I have a problem with someone I know, live with, go to school with, play Uno with, got abdicated by aliens with, whatever, things like…

“Dear Ann:

               My Aunt Tillie has halitosis really bad and she insists on French kissing me every time she and Uncle Ferdinand visit. How can I get her to stop…I don’t want to insult her, because she and my uncle are worth about a quadrillion dollars and she might write me out of her will. Any ideas?

                Overcome by Bad Breath in Bermuda (onions)”

Dear “Bermuda”:

                Next time she visits, hand her a bottle of Scope, point her to the bathroom and tell her to have at it.

Stuff like that, and believe me, she was just that blunt; “Eppie” pulled no punches.

Now I get all kinds of those bullshit digital communications I alluded to above on a frequent basis, and occasionally even an actual written letter from some reader who is as old as a tortoise, asking me for, like “Ann”, not just advice about their love lives, but just tips on getting by in general in this fast-paced, Internet dominated, crazy ass world we live in these days.

So I decided to start my own “advice column” (not to be confused with the posts I write regularly giving help to the love challenged), and I’ve also decided to call it “Ask The Cap’n”…catchy, huh?

And so…

 “Dear Cap’n:

                My sister-in-law has recently become a dyed-in-the-wool, right-wing conservative, Bible-thumping supporter of President Donald “Tweety Bird” Trump, and these days, family get-togethers have become really ugly, since the rest of us in the family are decent, sane Democrats. Is there any way we can politely shut her up whenever we meet?

                Tired of Trump in Toledo”

Dear “Toledo”:

                Next time your family congregates, give your sis-in-law a BIG glass of Clorox and tell her “Tweety Bird” recommends it as a way to prevent being infected by Covid-19…then “accidentally” forget the emergency number for your local fire rescue department.

“Dear Cap’n:

               My neighbor is vertically challenged and we can never see him behind the fence that separates our two yards. Should I use a left-handed scullery wrench to remove the arboreal nuts from the tailpipe on my ’58 Edsel, or should we have Chicago-style hot dogs from Portillos for dinner tonight?

                Perplexed in Palatine”

Dear “Perplexed”:

                Yes, I definitely recommend wool, as opposed to cotton, parts for the intake manifold on your Edsel.

“Dear Cap’n:

                I’m planning a trip to Chicago next month, and I’m wondering what the hell this thing they call “the Bean” is all about. It doesn’t involve being a right-wing, goofball follower of Donald “Tweety Bird” Trump, does it? Because if it does, I think I’ll visit Hoboken instead…I hear they have an outstanding art museum there.

                Why Is It Called A “Vacation” When I’m Not Vacating Anything

Dear “Vacation”:

                That shit about New Jersey being the “Garden State”? Don’t believe it, I’ve been there…all they have is Newark, Bruce Springsteen, a bajillion petro-chemical facilities where they make Clorox, and the Nets, who suck. No “Bean”, no Art Institute, no deep-dish pizza and no really ugly metal sculptures in the downtown Plaza.

“Dear Cap’n:

                Is it true that the square root of the hypotenuse angle is nominally abstruse and fully concentrated in the statement, “I take no responsibility at all”?

                Don’t Blame New Jersey, We Voted For Hillary in ‘16”

Dear “Voted”:

                The square of the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the squares on the other two sides, unless it’s the second Tuesday of the last week of the Winter Solstice, then the quadrangle of the cretonne is considered to be the dominant aspect.

“Dear Cap’n:

                I’m told that the majority of the voters in Wisconsin, Michigan and Pennsylvania possess the IQ level of a doorknob; is that the case, or is it a vicious, dirty rumor being circulated by Tess Tosterone, the Libertarian candidate for President in 2020?

                They Asked Me If I Came By Greyhound and I Said No, I Rhode Island”

Dear “Rhode”:

                Are you asking me that just because Donald “Tweety Bird” Trump carried those three states in ’16? If so, what a terrible thing to insinuate, even if it is fundamentally true.

That’s all the time we have for questions today, boys and girls, and I assume that covers most of you, but please tune in next week when we hope our special guest will be President Abraham Lincoln, assuming we can stop him from spinning long enough to do an interview.

Love and “Da Bears”,

Cap’n John

Post Script…I always took the pickle off and ate it by itself. And never ketchup.

And oh, this is “the Bean”.


As you may recall, it was WAY back on 1/10/18 that I announced my intention to run for the office of President, the day I accepted the Hearty Party nomination and launched my 2020 campaign; as that candidate, in today’s post I’m going to once again address a number of issues that confront all of us as Americans by restating the “planks” of my campaign platform. But first, with your indulgence, I’m going to digress for just a moment…

 “…ladies and gentlemen, here are the starting offenses for the Lysol® 2020 Mega Toilet Bowl!!…”

Yeah, okay, I made that one up…d’uh.

With the holidays a dwindling image in our rear-view mirrors, we can now (gratefully) turn our attentions to more important matters…i.e., ”bowl season”. Starting with all the college bowl games from late last year/early this year, like the Aunt Jemima® 2020 Mixing Bowl, the Hidden Valley Ranch® Salad Bowl, the Uncle Ben’s Wild Rice® Bowl, or the Cheech and Chong Smoke A Bowl and finally culminating in the ultimate of the “bowl games”, the Dumb and Dumber Super Bowl-Cut Bowl, to be played this year on February 2nd in the beautiful city of Miami Florida, known as “The Cruise Capital of the World” and home to Miami Vice, the falling comatose herbivorous lizard, 300 downtown high-rise buildings and South Beach. This year’s game features the Kansas City Warriors, er, sorry, that’s the women’s roller derby team, the Kansas City Chiefs and the San Francisco 49’ers.

The Chiefs have the potential MVP of the league at quarterback in Patrick Mahomes, who despite having a very unusual last name, is pretty much All World in everything, and the 49’ers have Darlin’ Clementine’s father. Both teams possess excellent defensive units, an offense that can put up big points if the defense is sleeping, decent special teams and we’ll have Shakira and J’Lo at halftime as well. On the plus side, both Ms. Lopez and Ms. (unknown) are beautiful women and interesting entertainers; Lopez is also engaged to proven baseball cheat and all-around asshat Alex “I Only Did PEDs On Days Ending With The Letter ‘Y’” Rodriguez as well. Neither woman can pass-block worth a broke you-know-what and (unknown) has recently been prone to fumbling and bouts of inflated ego. On the minus side, once again, indeed for the past LIIV years now, I continue to try to understand what exactly the Rolling Stones, the Who, Katy Perry, Lady HaHa, TP and the ‘Breakers, the Everglades University Comatose Lizards Marching Band, this year’s Dipso Duo above and all of the other half-time extravaganzas have to do with football.

Yes, I understand ad revenues and demographics and spatial telemetry and how to throw a slider and what not, but…never mind.

Moving along…since the dumbheads in Chicago, more commonly known as the Chicago Bears, who are owned by the epitome of managerial incompetence, the McCaskey Family (with the Glazer Family of morons running a close second in ownership ineptitude here in another fine Florida city, Tampa Bay), only managed to finish the regular season with an 8-8 record, which won’t even get you in the playoffs in Pop Warner ball, to fill in the time between inane interviews with obviously bored players and coaches, CONSTANT re-hashes of big plays from the just finished playoffs, “expert” analysis from so-called “experts” and other mostly uninteresting features of “Super Bowl Week” like “Cornerback Warren Peace…Bedwetter and Raiser of Iguanas…His Story”, I recently entered the WayBack Machine® and POOF! returned to 1985/86, to an NFL football season when the “dumbheads in Chicago”, for one all too brief 6-month period, were truly the vaunted “Monsters of the Midway”.

I’ve watched all the regular season games I could find on YouTube (twice), which was all but two of them, plus the ’85 NFC Championship game against a very good L.A. Rams team (three times), who the Bears shut-out, and of course, Super Bowl XX, wherein Chicago embarrassed future football dynasty the New England Patriots by the rather lop-sided score of 46-10, second only to the 49’ers crushing of the Denver Broncos 55-10 in Super Bowl XXIV as the worst defeat in the history of the NFL Championship game. (The XX halftime show featured the musical group “Up With People“; considering the overall tone of the game itself, which featured the universally acknowledged “Best Defense of All Time” totally annihilating the Pats in a gruesome show of football dominance, this combination of football/music is akin to having the Munchkins do 15 minutes of Broadway show-tunes during a lull in the action in one of those ancient Christians/Lions match-ups at the Coliseum in Rome.)

Three observations about watching reruns of old football games on YouTube…1) at the commercial breaks, assuming whoever posted the video took the time to remove the ads, when the announcer says, “we’ll be back in a moment”, they really ARE back in a moment; 2) despite how it sounds, it really is nice to know who’s going to win, especially when the winner is YOUR TEAM; and 3) the 1985 Chicago Bears were the best team to ever play in the NFL…best defense most certainly, and probably GOAT for the entire squad as well. I invite dissenters to dissent.

Yeah, Go Bears! Or should that be past tense, since it was 35 years ago? Went Bears?

Anyway, bowl games etc., are not the subject of today’s post, despite how it appears; no, as I said above, I’m going to give you a redux (that’s Burmese for “iguana testicles”) of my various stands on the issues.

Believe me, my campaign slogan says it all…My name is Cap’n John and I ain’t kidding©.

Catchy, huh?

Here goes…


                No American stands more firm in his/her support for the rights we are guaranteed by our Constitution, and certainly the personal freedom for members of the media to be sociable between themselves and with others is most assuredly one of these precious rights. I cannot imagine why such a fuss is being raised over this issue by members of…ah, wait a minute, of the media. Okay, now I’m totally confused. Never mind, we’ll come back to this one.


                Once again, it occurs to me that this is a very simple matter and one that really shouldn’t need debate. It is my firmly held belief that ALL Americans have the unalienable right to re-do something a second time. I mean, they put erasers on the ends of your iPad, don’t they? Of course you can have a second chance to amend something…it’s your right, and the Constitution says so. The Constitution further says, in the 3rd Amendment, that, “No soldier shall, in time of peace be quartered in any house, without the consent of the Owner, nor in the time of war, but in a manner to be prescribed by law”, but that isn’t really relevant here.


Yes, yes. Absolutely right away first thing immediately yesterday. Except for any state that is carried by the presumptive Republican candidate Donald “Tweety Bird” Trump. I say “presumptive” because we all know that, after a fair trial in the Senate on the impeachment charges brought by the House recently, Mr. Trump will of course be removed from office and banished to island of Madagascar, where he can commune with the Aquatic Tenrecs, which are indigenous to the island. Yeah, right, when monkeys fly out of my butt. Anyway, there will be no legal smoke for any misguided state that swings its electoral votes to DTBT in ‘20. Like Wisconsin, Michigan and Pennsylvania did in ’16.



                No one is ever going to confuse me with great sports strategists like George Halas or John Madden or Salty Parker or even Wade Ingpool but I am steadfast in my belief that a strong DEFENSE and great pitching wins games and championships. Accordingly, after the good people of this country make me their President, I promise to spend money like a crazed wombat to obtain all the Gold Glove-level players I can find, as well as recruiting and bringing up through the farm system no less than a dozen Top 10 pitching prospects every year, along with accelerated schedules for building new, larger and more sophisticated aircraft carriers, drones and slingshots. I will further ask Congress to increase funding for more highly-trained linebackers and shortstops as well. Okay, and I’ll also have Congress throw in a few new F35s for the Air Jockeys too.


                NOBODY PAYS ANYTHING! As President, I will order an immediate military take-over of Dubai and the UAE and then make them pay for everything…shit, as much money as those guys have, they can probably take care of the U.S. National Debt out of petty cash.


                If I’m elected Pres, the taxpayers of America are buying me a new C8 Corvette…hey, I could have held out for a McLaren P1, but I thought, no, I’ll be Pres then, no foreign junk for this Great American. So get ready everyone, ’cause come January 21, 2021, the nice folks at Generous Motors (since my old man was an employee of the said GM, that was how we referred to them at my house when I was a kid) will be getting an order for a fully loaded, all the bells and whistles, 495 horses smack in the middle of the car and painted bright red 2020 C8 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray, with the Presidential seal prominent on the side of the car.

Hey, if Tweety Bird can spend a bajillion dollars of the taxpayer’s money on trips back and forth to fucking Mar-Ma-Lade or whatever the hell you call it just so he can play (with himself) golf, the least you guys can do is pop for an AMERICAN sports car for your new Fearless Leader.

Patrick Mahomes will be the difference in the Super Bowl this coming Sunday in Miami, home of the falling comatose herbivorous lizard…take the Chiefs.

Love and the Bear’s “46” defense,

Cap’n John

Post Script…Yeah, I know Harry’s dead and YOU know Harry’s dead but I’m hoping no one tells HIM that.