Rand Paul’s Mr. Whipple Moment

Sen. Rand Paul (R-Whatthehellwerethosekentuckiansthinking), has a knack for the absurd. Politicians often talk sh*t, but Rand went off on a rant about toilets – and light bulbs, abortion, offshoring jobs, and the dangerous threat to society those inanimate objects represent…. at a hearing about energy efficiency standards for appliances.

I’d like to lay the whole story out, insane utterance by insane utterance, but I can’t understand it. For one thing, I’m not Charlie Sheening on angel dust nor am I Baghdad Bob. I’m just an average person who manages to get up and go to work each day and return home in relatively good physical and mental shape without having a toilet flush my right to life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and incandescant light bulbs as though I was a whole roll of the Mr. Whipple’s best.

I also have an IQ somewhere north of a stale donut and I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that you do too.

As I read the story, I kept thinking there’s an asylum somewhere with a bed that has his name on it. I actually felt sorry for the addlebrained goob. I kept thinking, “That guy needs some help. Good thing his insurance doesn’t have a death panel requirement, because he’d be right up at the top of the euthanasia list.” I kept thinking there had to something I could do or say to bring him back to reality. And then it struck me!

Rand hates low-flow toilets because he has to flush them 10 times to get rid of that dump he took after his last hallucinogenic flight of fantasy. Eureka!

Rand, listen carefully. Go to your bathroom. Take off your shoes, put your feet in your underperforming toilet and FLUSH – 11 or 12 times if you have to and sooner or later the world’s biggest turd will just disappear down the drain.

I love it when I can help my fellow man.

Cross posted at The Omnipotent Poobah Speaks!




Bless Me Father, For I Have Sinned: The Passion Play of Newt Gingrich

That Newt Gingrich is a passionate man is without question. He’s a more passionate man than Charlie Sheen, and that, that my friends is a whole lotta passion bein’ stirred.

Newt’s been passionate about defending marriage from the awful scourge of people who love one another. So passionate, in fact, he separated with one wife while she was undergoing cancer treatment, to marry his high school sweetheart – who was also his geometry teacher…with whom he’d been having an affair for 6 years. That’s OK though, he divorced the schoolmarm for Wife Number 3 all on the up-and-up. Watch out ladies! Is that a foursome I see hovering in the background? Newt is, after all a passionate guy.

He’s passionate about other things too. For example, he’s passionate about BJs. Of course, he condemned Clinton for this. But, it’s different if you come by your BJ honestly, like Newt does – by innocently walking down the street and being surprised to trip and find his pecker has fallen into a woman’s mouth. Passionate stuff that.

But, he’s saved his biggest passion for his country. This patriot, by his every act, word, and deed, found himself so in love with Lady Liberty that he toiled for long hours grifting donors, lobbying lobbyists, and squeezing in the odd Contract on America that he broke down . He strayed. He divorced wives. Yes, he presumably even got illicit BJs. All for the taste of sweet, sweet liberty.

Ahhh, but the sweet smell of Lady Labia’s Liberty’s essential fluids also delivered him from his decadence and landed him on CBN describing his conversion and salvation through Catholicism – a religion uniquely qualified to cater to the passions of his ilk.

And now, Brother Newt, friend of God, and passionate of unzipped pant, bellows to the rafters, “HALLELUJAH! PRAISE ST. RONNIE OF REAGAN! – THE PATRON SAINT OF TEA PARTIERS WANTS ME TO RUN FOR PRESIDENT!”

“I am but a mere vessel of Reagan conservatism to use as St. Ronnie knows my destiny will surely take me. Oh, and log on to newt.org to contribute. Visa and MasterCard welcome.”

Now let’s hope that those hooligan journalists don’t ask him the most salient question…

If being a Congressman drove you to such passion that you lost your mind and fornicated like a Viagraized Easter Bunny, how will you fare being the much more passionately pressurized President.

Inquiring ex-wives want to know.

Cross posted at The Omnipotent Poobah Speaks!




Of Football Teams, Fraternities, and Other Important Intellectual Concerns


                                   by Walter Brasch


            The $50 million Burton Family Football Complex at the University of Connecticut may be nameless soon. Robert G. Burton, who had donated about $3 million to help fund the stadium, wants his money back and his family's name erased from UConn football. He also informed UConn he will cancel his $50,000 a season suite in the stadium.

            What upset Burton, who had donated about $7 million to UConn, mostly for its football program, was that the selection committee for a new football coach didn't take his suggestion. Not long after Burton's tirade, the chairman of the Board of Trustees reached out to "mend fences" to keep money where it belongs—in the football program.

            While athletics drives many universities, a few consider sports as supplemental to the academic mission. I believe this is how a conversation went at one college located somewhere in America, where the accreditors were questioning the president.

            "How did your football team do this year?" asked the chairman of the accrediting team.

            "We were 3-and-6, and very proud of our team," said a beaming president.

            "This is serious. What steps have you taken to replace your coach?"

            "We hadn't thought about it," said the president, mystified by the inquiry. "Coach Samuels is one of the nation's most respected organic chemists, teaches a full load of courses, then works out the team an hour or two in the evenings."

            "An hour or two?" said the accreditor, mockingly. "No wonder your school has such a dismal record! Most colleges have twice-a-day drills for two or three hours at a time. The students don't even go to class in the Fall. Your coaching staff must be lazy."

            "We have only two assistant coaches. One teaches sociology, the other is a speech pathologist."

            "Most colleges have a dozen coaches," said the accreditor. "How can you not have assistant coaches for ends, backs, and nose guards?"

            "We have a good staff in our anatomy and physiology labs," said the president, adding that with additional assistant directors in Music and Theatre, the college  produces some professional-class musical comedies.

            "Who cares? How many of your athletes went on to professional NFL careers?"  The president diverted the question, and excitedly told the accreditor about alumni who went into the creative arts, others who are leaders in social work and environmental science, and of graduates who are among the nation's leaders in almost every field of scientific research.

            "Business!" roared the Chairman. "How many of your graduates are in high paying business jobs!"

            The president thought hard, but could think of only three of his recent graduates who went into corporate business, and then only because they couldn't get any other job. "Of course," said the president, "a few dozen of our graduates enter law and med school every year."

            The accreditor's face finally lit up. "Oh, so you do have wealthy alumni! Why didn't you say so!"

            The president shook his head. "Most of our alumni lawyers are into consumer law, and our med school graduates usually become family physicians or work with the poor."

            "Not a good sign. Not a good sign at all." Also not a good sign was the social atmosphere on campus. "I didn't see any fraternity or sorority houses on campus. In fact, hardly anyone even knows where the nightly parties are."

            "I guess that isn't helping our cause for reaccreditation, is it?" asked the president. He didn't have to ask since the accreditor was now writing furiously.

            "Your building fund? Any new recreation or student union buildings?"

            "We're planning a new building to house our community service programs." The accreditor hardly looked up he was so disgusted. "We had two Rhodes Scholars and one Danforth fellowship last year! One of our profs just won a Pulitzer. Ninety percent of our faculty hold the doctorate!"

            "Any of them all-Americans?"

            "Our Intercollegiate Debate Team was national champion last year! The Student Social Welfare Club led the fight against conversion of apartments into condos!"

            "Redeem yourself with committees," shouted the accreditor. "Do you have more committees than scholarships?"

            "We believe most committees are wastes of time that encourage their members to act in irrational and arrogant manners."

            The accreditor's aide calmed him down long enough so he could ask a final question. "How much of your budget is spent on sending your administrators and faculty to phony academic conferences to pat each other's behinds?"

            "None," wept the president, "most of our budget keeps students and faculty current in their fields."

            The accreditor slammed his notebook shut and walked away. The president called after him, "When will we know whether we have been reaccredited?"

            The accreditor stopped a moment, turned around, and shouted back, "When you become a real educational institution."


            [You may contact Walter Brasch, recently paroled from a long term confinement as a university professor, at walterbrasch@gmail.com]




Breaking China--Legally


by Walter Brasch


        Chinese President Hu Jintao's visit to the United States this past week has been met by both praise and political posturing. Hu, an intellectual with a strong sense of culture, hopes he is leading what he wishes to be "a Harmonious Society" with peaceful development. To that end, Hu said his government was prepared to “engage in dialogue and exchanges with the United States on the basis of mutual respect and the principle of noninterference in each other's internal affairs” on human rights questions. Although it seems as if Hu is saying that he wants each nation to continue to conduct its business without interference, he also acknowledged that “A lot still needs to be done in China in terms of human rights."

           But, some politicians, apparently feeling a need to make sure their home base knows they aren't weak on Communism, have called him a dictator, gangster, and emperor. Very few have spoken out about American-owned companies downsizing and outsourcing everything to China from toys and clothing to book printing and building materials.

           Although China is the world's second largest economic power behind the U.S. and this country's largest creditor, there is no need to fear either its economy or its military power. It has already sown the seeds of its own destruction.

           In 1996, there were almost no lawyers in China. By 2000, there were 110,000. There are now almost 200,000.

           With a society of lawyers, China is likely to collapse. Let's take an example. Ling Chou is riding his bicycle on Chairman Mao Boulevard. He starts to turn left, but is hit by a bicycle being ridden by Chang Liu. Under the principles of Confucianism, before there were lawyers, the two would see if each other was hurt, help out if necessary, and apologize profusely. If a bicycle was dented, the other person would fix it. If there weren't injuries or dents, they would shake hands and go their own ways. With lawyers, you don't do that. Ling grabs his lawyers; Chang grabs his own lawyers. It takes six inches of paperwork, a preliminary hearing before a magistrate, and two, maybe three continuances before the case comes before a judge. Then there are the bailiffs, marshals, clerks, typists, stenographers, and court reporters. After a three-day trial—during which three doctors from each side testify, and get paid very well for their conflicting opinions about back injuries and mental trauma—the judge decides the case. The whole thing takes a year. Maybe two.

           Now, let's look at the criminal side of law. In the past, Chinese citizens could walk down any street late at night and wouldn't even worry about a "Boo!" Now, with lawyers, you have to have criminals. So, the crime statistics go up. More lawyers show up. Some to prosecute. Some to defend. Before lawyers, China had work camps. Now there will be guards and wardens and rehabilitative counselors and parole boards and committees for prisoner rights, followed by committees for victim rights.

           With everyone suing, defending themselves from criminals, or being criminals, the Chinese won't have time to sew cheap coats or launch any wars.

           However, in the past couple of years, President Hu's government has gotten wise to the proliferation of lawyers. The licensing tests have become harder—only about one-fifth of the applicants pass them; and the annual fees have increased significantly.

           This has caused even greater problems. When lawyers get tired of being lawyers, they become politicians, just as in the U.S. And, as in the U.S., it isn't scientists, social workers, teachers, and other decent people who are running our government. Imagine what will happen when the lawyers finally take over the Chinese government. In a country with four times America's population there will be four times as many mortgage crises scandals, four times as many morals scandals, and four times the number of self-serving statements that they weren't responsible for whatever it was that went wrong in the country.

           More important, there will no longer be just one Communist Party, but at least two, each one screaming at the other one, fighting meaningless battles, and filling radio, television, and the Internet with equally meaningless blather. It'll only be a short time until the lawyer-led political system paralyzes a 4,000-year-old civilization that has given us great literature, music, sculpture, fashion, architecture, cuisine, and the use of martial arts for peaceful reasons.

           With the rise of lawyers and political parties, even America's corporations wouldn't outsource their products to a nation like that—not for all the tea (parties) in China.


[Walter Brasch is a multiple award-winning humor and general/politics columnist in competition sponsored by the National Society of Newspaper Columnists, Society of Professional Journalists, National Federation of Press Women, Pennsylvania Press Club, and Pennsylvania Women's Press Association. social issues columnist and He is the author of 17 books, most of which are available through amazon.com. You may contact him at walterbrasch@gmail.com]



The Master Plan (A Play)

Scene: The Oval Office. October 2008. President George W. Bush is nursing a Diet Coke. Vice President Dick Cheney sips a Cutty and water. A nervous-looking aide brings in a plate of soft pretzels, along with two copies of the latest internal polling numbers.

BUSH: This doesn't look good, Dick. McCain is going to get his ass kicked.

CHENEY: I'd say that falls under the category of his problem, Mr. President. Besides, I think the man has lost it. An Alaskan bimbo for a running mate? He obviously spent too much time in the sun at the Hanoi Hilton.

BUSH: Heh-heh -- You and I sure don't have to worry about that, do we, Mr. Five Deferments? Good thing, too. Our country needs us right now. Henry's scared shitless the goddamn geniuses on Wall Street are going to take the whole friggin' economy down the tubes. And fuck-all if I don't get blamed for it.

CHENEY: Don't worry, Mr. President. You're going to come out of this just fine. Do you remember that lecture I gave you in '03? When I told you that deficits don't matter?

BUSH: Sorry to say I don't, Dick. That was the day Laura got fed up with my pissin' and moanin' about my presidential workload and ordered the White House kitchen to slip the Jim Beam into my sarsaparilla. That whole week's a blur.

CHENEY: Well, Mr. President, let me give you the Cliff Notes version: Basically, American business runs itself. Successful Republicans have neither the time nor the inclination to get lost in the weeds of economic policy. And successful Republicans must never display any weakness when the middle-class losers start whining.

BUSH: You mean like when Dad went into that fancy new grocery store and tried to pretend he gave a shit about the peons? What a joke! Mom still rides him over that one.

CHENEY: Exactly, Mr. President. You can't be wasting any precious war-fighting hours worrying about people who can't cut it in the free market. It takes your eye off the ball. Republican economics is simple: Our friends tell us what they want, and we try to give it to them.

BUSH: That's it?

CHENEY: That's it.

BUSH: But what happens when our friends all get richer and everyone else gets the shaft? What do we say then?

CHENEY: "A rising tide lifts all boats."

BUSH: What if that doesn't work?

CHENEY: Then we say, "We believe Americans should be allowed to keep more of their own money."

BUSH: And if people are still bitching?

CHENEY: Too bad. We're done talking. We've done our job. We've taken care of our friends. That's all we're going to do.

BUSH: I don't know, Dick. That sounds a little harsh.

CHENEY: Life is harsh, Mr. President. It's up to each individual to try to try to scratch and claw his way to the top -- to where you are. Economic good times come and go. Our friends are forever. Things may look bad now, but that's actually a blessing in disguise. John McCain is a loser. Fuck him. It's just not his year. Hell, it's not our year. But Henry's going to do what it takes to save the system. And believe it or not, you're going to be a Republican hero.

BUSH: How's that gonna happen? You sound like Turd Blossom when he's kissing my ass.

CHENEY: Don't take this wrong the wrong way, Mr. President, but here's the plain fact: You've screwed up the economy so royally that nobody -- least of all this Obama character -- can fix it in two or even four years. If Republicans play their cards right, Mitt or Haley can waltz into the White House in 2012.

BUSH: I think I get it, Dick. The shitty Bush economy now falls under the category of Obama's problem.

CHENEY: Fuckin' A, Mr. President. Fuckin' A.


(From my blog http://partisandawn.wordpress.com/)




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