I’ll Die On Whatever Hill I So Choose.

I don’t like it when egghead scientists tell me what to do. What do those elite, East Coast liberals know about what it’s like here on the ground in flyover country? Thus, out of self-assured spite, I have filled my entire house with asbestos.

It was a hard task, what with all the unnecessary red tape and regulations making simple, American commerce so damned hard. Ever try to buy asbestos? The government has made it next to impossible, putting hard-working asbestos miners and salesmen out of work, and making filling my home with the so-called “carcinogen” a real pain in the ass. Continue reading

Life On The Surface Of The Sun

I grew up in the country, outside of a small town, which was itself on the outskirts of Houston. We lived in a doublewide trailer, sharing the land with yaupon bushes, pine trees, stray dogs, and mosquitos. Every summer, we’d gather around the ol’ thermostat and yell cuss words at it, in unison. It was the only time Ma would let us young’uns cuss.

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The Constitution’s Odd Silence On Donkey/Human Relations

Here’s a quick list of things Donald Trump can do because, according to Rudy Giuliani’s legal ramblings, they aren’t expressly forbidden by the Constitution.

  • He can eat Filet-o-Fish sandwiches and Big Mac’s with absolute impunity. The Constitution does not mention fast food, nor the President’s physical fitness, nor his status as a role model for the nation.
  • He can cheat on his first wife with his second wife, cheat on her with yet another wife, cheat on that wife with a porn star, and cheat on the porn star with a Playboy model. The Constitution does not mention the President’s marital fidelity, nor does it make any reference to pornography.
  • He can sacrifice a goat to the Devil in the middle of a pentagram on the South Lawn of the White House. The Constitution is remarkably silent on Satanic rituals.
  • He can climb to the top of the Washington Monument and piss on the assembled masses below. The Constitution does not expressly prohibit watersports, though it is worth noting that the President’s physical fitness and aging prostate might prove to quash such activities.[i]
  • He can ride a coked-up Bengal tiger through the halls of the White House. The Constitution never once mentions Bengal tigers.
  • He can appoint completely unqualified hacks to every position under Article II, so long as he gains the “advice and consent” of the Senate. Given the Senate’s composition and recent record, it appears that there is no Constitutional prohibition, express nor implied, on having a Cabinet chock full o’ nincompoops. Nincompoopery = 100% constitutional.
  • The President can lie, constantly, about matters large and small. The Constitution does not expressly forbid the President from lying. While the previous occupants lied occasionally, they significantly underutilized their apparent constitutional power to trade in outright deception.
  • Donald can make money by selling hats and t-shirts with his mottos and image. The Constitution prohibits receiving emoluments from foreign governments, but there’s nothing in that document from 1789 that says he can’t dropship some custom-printed tees on a poorly managed website. As Alexander Hamilton once said, “get thine sales funnel primed, bro.”
  • He can select himself to be an astronaut. The Constitution is strangely silent on matters of space travel.
  • Trump can trick Mike Pence by promising to hold the football while the Veep kicks it, only to pull it away at the last second. Mr. Pence’s momentum will cause him to fall flat on his back, but he’ll never learn. And the President is completely safe, as the Framers never made a single mention of Peanuts, Charlie Brown, nor Lucy. It’s safe to assume the lack of prohibition on the old cartoon prank was fully intentional.
  • The President can wear a Qaddafi/Stalin/Mussolini/Idi Amin style military uniform. As the Commander-in-Chief, it’s assumed that the President is a civilian representative of the populace who, in turn, exercises authority over the people’s military. But that’s an assumption. The Constitution never once says that the President can’t play dress-up and strut around like the very model of a modern major general.
  • He can play golf every single weekend, come hell or high water. Presidents before Trump, and Trump before President Trump, felt that the job of President of the United States was simply too demanding to afford much time on the links. But there’s not a single line in the entire Constitution telling us exactly how much golf is too much golf. We’re left to assume that nonstop golf would be possible, legal, and acceptable in the eyes of the Framers.

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I Can’t Win Unless Some Loser Loses.

There’s something about the psyche of the average American conservative that makes them only truly win when someone else is losing.

There’s no victory in seeing everyone do better, because in the conservative mind, not everyone deserves to do better. What kind of world would it be if there was no punishment for making bad decisions?

[SHOUTED FROM OFFSTAGE] The world Donald Trump lives in?

 Shut the hell up, imaginary person I’m using as a silly literary device. No one asked you. Continue reading

Just Letting You Know, You’re Garbage. Don’t Shoot The Messenger.

We can disagree about football. I like the Houston Texans, my dad follows the Texans but can’t shake his East Texas roots: he’s a Cowboys fan through and through. I’ve disliked the Cowboys pretty much my entire life. And Dallas, for that matter.

Dallas is what Houston would be if Houstonians lost everything that makes them interesting and fun. All that would be left is a bunch of boring people, sweating profusely, stuck in traffic. I will give them credit for the show, Dallas. And that’s only because (a) J.R. Ewing was a badass, and (b) the theme song reminds me of my childhood. So does the soundtrack to Urban Cowboy and the crisp, cool taste of Budweiser. It’s beechwood aged for that taste that says, “I’m 3 and drinking my uncle’s beer. Again.”

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Six Things You Should Stop Doing Because They Annoy Me

Blame it on my seasonal allergies. Or maybe it’s my various ailments attributable to age-related wear and tear. Mostly wear, but no significant tears. For that, I am grateful, as getting torn sounds quite painful.

Perhaps I just suppress my rage, and it’s bubbling out of my assorted head-holes now. But I’m feeling that familiar “I’d like to punch a baby right in its adorable pudgy face” feeling that I get now and then. Continue reading

What’s The Worst That Could Happen? Okay, Quadruple That.

I hacked America’s data, and I found out that we’re a bunch of terrible, idiotic human beings.

Okay, that’s a little over-the-top. It’s probably more accurate to say that many of us are terrible, idiotic human beings, and that incredibly vocal plurality is causing our national boat to careen dangerously starboard. Continue reading

A Government Of The Worst, By The Worst, And For The Worst.

When you’re a kid, adults inspire you by saying, “You can be anything you want when you grow up!” Sometimes parents illustrate the true grandeur of that statement with a follow up: “…you could even be the president!”

My mom used to tell me that I was just too smart to be the president. Throughout my life, I’ve switched between believing my mom wholeheartedly, and thinking the premise is absurd. That switch has occurred once every eight years.

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Logic And Reason Are Liberal Conspiracies.

The conservative game plan on many matters is to be counterintuitive and contrarian.

Gun violence? We just need more guns!

Animals going extinct? Hunting and killing them will help with that!

Israel versus Palestine conflict? HARK! We shall move the American Embassy to Jerusalem and hasten the coming apocalypse, as the prophets of yore foretold! *eyes turn red and start glowing for some reason. Continue reading