“Testing…testing…(turns away from microphone and speaks to person behind him sotto voce…yeah, and now we’ve got the Dumb and Dumber Roadshow going on with those two morons Greene and Gaetz)…testing, one (turns away again as the PA system lets out a loud squeal of feedback), two, three, ah, ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, I’d like to get started, so if you would, please find your seats, please, if you would, please find your seats, everyone, everyone please, can you please take your seats so we can get going, I have quite a number of items to cover today, please find your seats…thank you. Thank you. We have a full agenda of department reports today that I wasn’t able to get to during our last meeting, so without any further ado, I’ll get started.” (Sotto voce to the guy behind him again)…”Geez, what a bunch of douchebags…”
~From the An Explanation For My Readers In FL Department…
Just an FYI, but contrary to what some of you folks here in the Gunshine State might believe, sotto voce is actually Burmese for “alpaca spleens”; it is not some Liberal left-wing conspiracy motto endorsing pre-marital sex, gay marriage, defunding the police, blatant abuse of the welfare system, coming for your guns and/or rampant mopery.
And what an amazing happenstance, that FL (pronounced “fluh”, as in “duh”) is now home to both ex-, former and no longer President Donald Trump, and his Mini Me, Ron DeSantis; Governor DeSantis recently extended an invitation, to further enhance our great State’s reputation as a bastion of right-wing, conservative, god-fearing redneckness, to both William F. Buckley and Senator Joe McCarthy to move to FL and join in the festivities. According to several people in the capital at Tallahassee, Governor De was quite disappointed to learn that both Buckley and McCarthy are deceased. As in dead.
~From the My, What An Unusual Design That Is On Your Wall, Cap’n Department…
I made an interesting discovery the other day while I was eating dinner at my dining room table in my humble flat (average people have “apartments”; writers have “flats”) here on the Left Coast of Fluh, this while having a nice piece of filet of blobfish, some delicious homemade potato salad (not made by me, but by a friend…I cook like old people fornicate) and a very nice fresh ear of corn. To wit, if you have a mouthful of partially masticated corn kernels and suddenly have to sneeze, and for some reason my sneezes have become WAY more thunderous as I grow older, the resultant spray pattern can be quite decorative.
~From the Some Of Those Who Wander Are Not Lost Just Deeply Confused Department…
Am I the only one in the Universe that is concerned about a “wandering black hole” that was recently discovered by astronomers at the Center For Astrophysics and Other Totally Confusing Science Shit and reported in an article in the Astrophysical Journal? The apparently confused-about-where-it-lives region of compacted spacetime was spotted meandering through galaxy J0437+2456 (the name “Snickers” was suggested and rejected by scientists, saying that we have enough galaxies named for candy bars with the “Milky Way”…so was “Ford”, but that was vetoed as being too obvious) by astrophysicist Dominic Pesce, who was quoted in the article as saying, when questioned about just exactly where the hell Billy the Black Hole was headed, “The damn thing acts like a drunken Republican who can’t find his car in the parking lot of the strip joint he just left…it’s just wandering all over the place.”
Mr. Pesce went on to add that while most black holes are stationary, due to their size, weight and general lack of interest, this one, described as being “like a bowling ball that is several million times the mass of our Sun”, just seems to be “conflicted about where it wants to settle”. Fortunately for inhabitants of Planet Earth, Billy is over 230 million light-years away and is not likely to pose a threat to life here…at least not for another few weeks.
Governor DeSantis is said to be considering extending an invitation to Billy to move to Fluh and “join the festivities”.
~From the It’s A Way Better Name Than The 1910 Fruit Gum Company Department…
I recently went back and re-read author Dan Brown’s 2003 massive bestseller The Da Vinci Code (hey, even sea captains occasionally need some “light” entertainment, and despite the very improbable storyline, it is a great tale) and re-discovered the scene where the assistant Bad Guy, an albino quasi-Catholic monk named Silas (oh sure, Dan, that’s not improbable) has removed his cowled robe in the privacy of his cubicle for the purposes of self-flagellation as penance for his earlier in the evening cold-blooded murder of FIVE innocent people (Holy Grail, Batman) and is now clad only, in Mr. Brown’s words, in a “loin swaddle”. (Apparently Opus Dei, a Roman Catholic sect of which Silas is a member and is described in real life by many as a “bunch of right-wing religious conservative nutjobs” has banned their “monks” from wearing either a thong or bikini briefs under their robes.)
And it struck me, like Muhammad Ali partying with Sonny Liston, that “Loin Swaddle” would be a great name for a rock band.
As an addendum to the above, The Da Vinci Code is not considered appropriate reading for Republicans, as Da Vinci was gay. In an inadvertent nod to the “cancel culture” people, Fluh Governor DeSantis recently asked the State Legislature to introduce, consider and pass a bill naming Bronwyn R. Peabody as the true artist responsible for painting the Mona Lisa.
FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!
We interrupt this blog post to bring you a Breaking! News! Story! from the RUKME News Desk…
Dateline Menlo Park CA
In a flip-the-bird gesture to both ex-, former and no longer President Donald Trump and Facebook founder and chief gutless coward Mark Zuckertoots, the Facebook Oversight Board for Rubber-Stamping Everything Mark Does actually grew a pair recently and upheld the ban from the social media platform that was imposed on Trump for inciting the January 6th insurrection and attempted seizure of our nation’s Capital. The Board gave Mr. Zuckertoots six months to respond and either lift the ban or have Mr. Trump permanently banished. (One Board member suggested having Mr. Trump taken out and flogged.) When asked by Chief Fluh Correspondent Coral Gables about the decision, Governor Ron DeSantis said that it “was an affront to Mr. Trump’s 1st Amendment rights”. When further questioned by Ms. Gables about his own flouting of the 1st Amendment by his excluding all media other than the Trump fave Fox & Friends program from a recent bill-signing event, the governor glared at Ms. Gables, gave her the finger and stormed off the podium.
More on the breaking story as it becomes available.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled column.
~From the They Must Have An “11” on Their Volume Knob Department…
For the entirety of my misspent youth, our family resided in Northern Illinois, home of Al Capone, the Chicago Bears (“Da Bears”), one of America’s first amusement parks, Riverview Park, built in 1904, at that time the world’s tallest building, the Sears Tower, Chicago-style hot dogs (NO KETCHUP!) and periodic visitations, every 17 years to be precise, of the Cicadoidea, or as they’re more commonly referred to, those noisy little fuckers. (In a parody of the state slogan “Land of Lincoln”, my old man always called Illinois the “Land of Gangsters”…I was never really sure exactly what he meant by that, but Dad’s good sense could always be called into question for having married my mother, which did keep me from being a bastard, so there’s that.)
My first experience with cicadas was in 1956 (full disclosure…I was five) and even at that tender age, I can still recall the mess and the ungodly cacophony produced by their arrival. Again in ’73 another “brood”, as they’re called, hatched in Illinois, and I clearly remember that fiasco. In addition to shedding their “nymphal skin” (see photo) which produces an incredible mess on the ground, considering that each brood consists of gazillions of the little fuckers, the males also “sing” to the females in an attempt to convince the ladies to engage in making whoopee with them. And always at night, and believe me, you get several BILLION of the things all singing “Let’s Get Physical” at the same time…well, according to the article in today’s Tampa Bay Times, the noise level at its loudest has been measured at 105 decibels, or dB; to put that in perspective, a 747 taking off right over your head is about 110 dB, give or take a chirp or two.
So here we are in the Year of Our Ford 2021 and my old friends the cicadas are due back across the Mid-Atlantic states this summer (thankfully not in Fluh), bringing with them used exoskeletons, those hideous red eyes and that awful noise.
To all my readers in that area, a note of caution…don’t stand still outside; cicadas climb anything vertical.
~From the Did You Know That Republicans Backwards Is Snacilbupers Department…
I saw an advertisement featuring LPGA golfer Paige Spiranac the other day on the Sports page of Yahoo.com, and it struck me (see Ali/Liston above) that if you read her last name backwards, it’s Canarips, and then for a devastating right/left combo, if her last name was Nroconac, it would be Canocorn backwards. (I wonder if Paige has ever sneezed a big mouthful of corn all over her dining room wall…me neither. Oh wait…)
~From the Happy Mother’s Day 2021 Department…
To all my fans who indulge in this pastime, Happy Mother’s Day. And to my mother, who is no longer with us, due to an untimely demise, as I suspect it was in her mind at least, thank you for the outstanding job you did raising me…I turned out awesome.
Ladies and gentlemen, and that stretches either term in some cases, thank you for your attendance and your attention today.
Love and blobfish,