trump

Deliver Us From Upheaval

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In a few hours, I’ll be in my car.

It’s a nine-year-old Toyota Prius that bears nine years worth of scars. Rear-ended three times. Sideswiped by a crafty pole that jumped out of nowhere. One headlight is perpetually brighter than the other like it’s a nine-season NFL veteran. Still going strong. And one headlight is brighter than the other, did I mention that?

I’ve slept in that car, sometimes while parked. Gotten tickets. Sung countless songs. Done “other things” in that car which, if I someday become a world-renowned writer, will dramatically increase its Kelley Blue Book value when accompanied by this essay. I’ll sign a copy for you, just ask.

But today, I’ll be doing what I’ve been doing in the Prius for the last several months, ever since I closed my business. I’ll be delivering GrubHub orders to people’s homes.

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Beating Our Heads Against The Wall

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Are you better off than you were four years ago?

A famous actor once asked that question in a debate with a former peanut farmer. Of course, I’m referring to the classic intellectual joust between Sir Anthony Hopkins and George Washington Carver. It was really tough to organize the event, given the fact that the two participants lived in different eras. A lot of people don’t know that.

The line was repeated with devastating effect in 1980 when former Governor Ronald Reagan (R-California) debated incumbent President Jimmy Carter (D) in a bid to deprive Carter of a second term.

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Hello, 911? Can You Send A Sociopath?

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Imagine you’re a reporter. After a long day of work, you start having excruciating chest pains. You think this may be the end.

You call 911, and barely squeak out, “My chest is tight, I can’t breathe.” The minutes blur as you lie on the floor, bargaining and pleading with your maker to survive until the ambulance arrives.

At last, the EMT rushes in. He comes to your side and immediately kneels down to whisper something to you:

“I see you need my help. I can help you. But first, I want you to do us a favor, though. I want you to get on the news and say you’ve discovered incriminating details about my ex-wife. She’s done a lot of bad things, and it would really help everyone.”

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Guide Him In The Direction He’s Already Falling

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Imagine you’re buying a car. You do some research, learn the range of prices versus features you like, and check your finances. The bus pulls up, and you hop on board to make your way down to the only dealership in town. You apparently live in a crappy, one-dealership-having town.

A large man—maybe 6’3”, 239 pounds, if you had to guess—approaches you as you exit the bus. His Chinese-made suit is ill fitting. His Mexican-made red tie is far too long. He resembles an anthropomorphic raccoon, if that raccoon were a serial sexual predator.

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A Loaded Red Hat

/ rickeydobbs / 6 Comments

High school boys in 2019 wear “Make America Great Again” hats for the same reason high school boys in 1992 wore Slayer t-shirts: contrarianism and attention seeking. Well, it’s almost the same, except the members of Slayer are actually good at their jobs and worthy of fandom.

It’s the reason we saw University of South Carolina baseball caps around the University of Houston during my tenure. South Carolina is a thousand miles from Houston, and most of us had never been there. But you see, Carolina’s mascot is the gamecock, and their 90’s era hats said “COCKS” across the front. To quote myself and every dude I knew circa 1998 (and 2019, to be fair), “Uh…huh huh…huh huh…he said cocks.” “Cocks” has a much more je ne sais quai than “Cougars,” no?

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Nobody Gets Out Alive

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We live in a dangerous country. Would it surprise you to learn that the United States has a whopping 100% mortality rate? And it’s projected to remain the same for the foreseeable future. Sad!

According to anecdotes relayed by the President of the United States on national television this week, the scariest source of our countrymen’s fate is undocumented immigrants. From what I can glean from memes posted by racist senior citizens on “the Facebook,” more Americans are killed by immigrants than by every other cause of death combined.

Okay, that seems unlikely, I’ll admit it. But when has your Aunt Gertrude, an angry 80-year-old woman who hasn’t worked outside the home nor left her Midwestern hometown in the last 20 years, ever steered us wrong? Remember 9/11? Well, Gertie said on 9/12 that she’d “always been suspicious of the Moslems,” and I’ll be damned if she didn’t hit the mark with that shotgun spray of post-hoc accusation.

This just in: Aunt Gertrude never said anything about it at the time, but she never liked that guy you just broke up with, either.

Given our President’s inference that we should fear people from other countries, I decided to investigate all of the ways that people in our country find themselves taking long naps on the underside of the terrain. Imagine my confusion when I discovered that, at best guess, only 456 people per year die at the hands of undocumented immigrants!

Now before you go saying, “any murder is a tragedy, and the murderers shouldn’t have even been here!” keep in mind that the overall number of homicides in the US is about 18,624 per year. In other words, if you’re going to get whacked, you’re 40 times more likely to get whacked by a fellow American. That’s why I avoid each of you at all costs, just to be safe. USA! USA!

I was also shocked to learn how many ways to die are more common than “gittin’ kilt by a got-dang furriner whilst on mah way down to the Piggleh Wiggleh.”

And because I cherry picked the hell out of this list for maximum shock value, you should prepare to be shocked, too!

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Come Join My Wild Pigeon Chase

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I own a restaurant in Washington, DC. We’re situated near the Smithsonian museums, the FBI headquarters, and lots of other federal office buildings. As you might imagine, we’ve been a little slower than ideal lately.

Why is it slower than usual?

I told my team that neither their service nor their food was at fault for the slowdown. It’s not competition from other restaurants or food trucks. It can’t be the weather, nearby construction, or the homeless people who ask our customers for money at the front door. While any and all of those issues would be worth an in-depth, intellectual investigation, I told my team that none of those are important.

We’re only slower than normal because of pigeons.

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Hold For Disingenuous Applause.

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Friends, don’t ask me how I’ve done it, but I’ve managed to get advance copy of Donald Trump’s State of the Union address. I know, you’re thinking, “yeah, right – there’s no way Donald Trump actually wrote something down.” I was as surprised as you. I was sure that his impromptu, rambling nature was a ploy to divert us from his “a very special Facts of Life” reality of being illiterate, but not wanting Tootie and Mrs. Garrett to find out. I was wrong. The reality, however, might be even scarier.

“Thank you, thank you.

Mr. Vice President, Mr. Speaker, it is my distinct honor to address this assembly to deliver my remarks on the State of the Union. Continue reading →

Lying when the truth would do you better.

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If someone is accused of something they vehemently deny, and there is enough evidence to warrant an investigation, shouldn’t the accused encourage a full investigation to clear up any doubt, and for that matter, to clear his or her name?

Seems that, if you or your associates have never had any dealings with Russia, you would WANT an impartial investigation to show that the circumstantial evidence against you is untrue.

I would understand if the House and Senate were in the hands of Democrats…you’d be hesitant as a Republican to submit to a B.S., partisan investigation. But you’ve got all 3 branches sewn up. Why wouldn’t you just say, “investigate to your heart’s content, I have nothing to hide from the American people.”

Unless, of course, you have something to hide. Something the American people and the people of your own party wouldn’t like.