November 2016

Month

Trump And Bill Clinton Walk Into A Bar

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~ What’s to be your poison, Donald?

~Something to help with the pussy, Bill. You tell me.

~Well, you’re going to start having trouble there. The ladies aren’t liking you much.

~ They got you into a lot of trouble, too.

~ Yes, that they did.

~ Impeached your ass.

~Gotta admit that, Donald – yes. Though I was declared innocent.

~ Innocent as shit.

~ Eye of the beholder, Donald. Something you don’t understand.

~ What do you mean?

~ You’re a mess, my friend. You are one hoot-and-holler train wreck.

~ I’m clearing the track, Slick Willy – straight to the White House. Believe me.

~ No – that isn’t the station where you’re getting off.

~ You think Hillz is going to stop me?

~ And that’s one more of the many things you don’t understand.

~ Wrong.

~ Hillary – bless her – might be pointing the gun.

~ Wrong

~ But guess who’s pulling the trigger.

~ I’ve got the best security.

~ It’s the people, Donald.

~ I’ve even got the Secret Service.

~ You can’t fool all the people.

~ Wrong.

~ Even the ones who follow you don’t believe you.

~ Wrong.

~They might not trust my little filly.

~ Should be in prison.

~But there is one thing the people don’t fear about her.

~ What?

~ They don’t think she’s going to lead them over the cliff.

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11/07/2016 0

Hillary And Trump Walk Into A Bar ~ The Election Closes In

Into the breach, once more.

kafkaestblog

lafnqroz

[It is the countdown, folks – so count along.]

~ What’s your poison, Donald?

~ I know what your poison is, Hillary.

~ What’s that?

~ You drink the Kool-Aid.

~ You’re the one who mixes it, Donald. I don’t touch the stuff.

~ It makes you nasty.

~ I’m starting to think you have a fixation on nasty women.

~ I like women.

~ You like to do things to women, Donald. It’s a big difference.

~ They love it.

~ They’d love to let you know how much they love it – I’ll grant you that.

~ So, you get all the women beating up on me, you think it will make you win?

~ A lot more than that is going to make me win.

~ What’s that?

~ You, Donald. You being you. Really, all I have to do is stand there and be superior.

~…

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11/05/2016 0

Obama And Trump Walk Into A Bar – Election Closes In

With the countdown counting down …

kafkaestblog

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~ What’s your poison, Donald?

~ The USA is poison – believe me.

~ Not to worry. I’m lancing that for you.

~ You use a sword and you stab in the back.

~ Sword of Justice.

~ And you like to twist it.

~ Look at the Statue of Justice.

~ Isn’t she blindfolded?

~ Yeh – so keep your hands to yourself.

~ A man gets certain thoughts, sometimes.

~ A man keeps them as thoughts, Donald.

~ We gotta put our hands somewhere.

~ Try your pockets.

~ Oh – that shit’s for other people. I get what I want.

~ Not this time.

~ You don’t think I’ll be the 45th president?

~ That slot is reserved for a woman.

~ Ugh – such a nasty woman.

~ Hillary cleaned your clock, Donald.

~ You think so?

~ Wiped the numbers right off your face.

~…

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11/05/2016 0

What Sights Are These, That Prove There Is Life?

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What sights indeed are these, that cause the racing clocks to pant their minutes in counterpoint to a life still learning the difference between wretchedness and love?

The swing goes up and the swing goes down, and then goes up again. If you are on that race, with childish yells, and up-down-mess-it-around feelings in the pit of your stomach, they haven’t lowered that coffin lid yet.

No, not yet.

****

What sights indeed are these, that make a heart argue the worth of dying, and ring the bells across the hill when there is no hand upon the rope?

There are happy tunes on the breeze and, yes, even the unicorn lifts its head with twitching ears and mouth agape.

And even (so it has been recorded, in long-ago books) our Lord Jesus God would pause in His ministrations at the wonder of it all.

****

What sights indeed are these, that ease the night’s passage and sow the fields full of restful dawn?

A race against the end is run by all of us; when the kitten kicks and purrs through her ball of string, or when the ancient’s cane tap-taps across the room. Eyes, whether young; or dim; or blind; can still open in amazement, and still marvel at the ever-changing newness.

Marvel and rejoice.

****

What sights indeed are these, that turn all tunes into rhapsodies of joy, and make the moon do gypsy dances through the night sky?

A sky of stars that shower and shake and stream across the galaxies to cram unto the ends of the distant universe. Grains of sand upon the shore would take sensitive fingers, and a lifetime of counting, yet still could never fill this distant space where even numbers stand in awe.

Zeros with mouths agape.

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11/01/2016 0