Tag: satire

Thirstday’s Wandering Thought

After he and his wife were married a few years, she passed on the casual judgement that he had a flat butt. He’d never considered his butt before, imagining without thinking about it that he probably had a pretty nice butt, but the comment raised his butt awareness. He began studying other’s butts and soon realized that a large spectrum of butt characteristics exist – flat, round, broad, muscular, chubby, pert, drooping, and so on. So many ways to classify and categorize butts by shape, contour, and type are out there that he eventually developed a large index butt shapes.

He had, somehow, become an asspert, all because of his own flat butt.

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Today’s Interesting Headline

Seeing this, you ponder the supply chain. And location: China. Do they celebrate Christmas? I don’t believe so, except in Western homes — especially the United States — or places where profits are celebrated.

The time of year of the headline is digested: autumn has just begun. Christmas is three months away. But we know that we’ll soon see Christmas displays emerging at retail sites. Carols and festive music will rock out on radios and public announcement systems before Halloween. We’ll begin hearing about the latest must-have technology, games, and amazing stocking stuffers. Debates will re-emerge about Black Friday and its impact on Thanksgiving and families. The Elf will return to the shelf. And the car deals! Why, there’s never been anything else like it!

It’ll be a FordMercedesBenzBMWChevroletDodgeToyotaKiaVolkswagenJeep Christmas to remember, I’ll bet.

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Happy Pretend Everything Really Is Okay Day

Hadn’t been reaching much news today (cause it felt icky on my tongue and was searing my senses) so I didn’t know until just now that today is Pretend-Everything-Really-Is-Okay Day.

Wow. As I age, I discover that I frequently don’t know WTF is going on (and even more frequently don’t care), so I’m not so surprised that you could knock me out with a feather for not knowing today is PERIOD. I don’t have happy memories of PERIOD (see, I just found out about it), even though it’s been around for several thousands years, pre-dating just about every holiday that exists.

I read that celebrating PERIOD means doing things that you would normally do, even if something is going on that might disturb you. You’re supposed to watch television, read, surf the net, clean house, shower, shit, shave, and eat, etc., as though everything is like baked Alaska.

What’d you know? That’s exactly how I celebrated PERIOD.

So Happy PERIOD to you, full stop. Hope you had a damn fine holiday.

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Florida

They always warned you,

the day will come,

that the way you govern

by giving others crumbs

would someday bite you in the ass.

You dismissed that with a laugh.

 

But now that day has come to pass

that the government you wanted and thought was right

isn’t up to this situation, is too fragile, too light.

So I wonder what lessons you might’ve learned

as people sicken, fall ill, and die,

and the economy burns.

 

 

 

0

Eat the Rich

“Eating the rich has no nutritional value.”

I read that on the package, in the nutritional panel, before I buy the cookies. Nothing about fiber, sugars, or fat. “No vitamins are in this product,” the manufacturer claims. Serving size is stated, “Whatever you can pack in.” My kind of cookies.

I’d gone to the store for something snaky and discovered the “Eat the Rich” cookies. I put them after musing about whether these will satisfy my needs, but take no chances and add a hefty brownie from the bakery. After arriving home, I open the cookie package with tenderness, preserving the package so I can close it later to preserve the cookies’ freshness. I also like that cookie Mount Rushmore of rich people on the front. Trump, Gates, the Koch Brothers, and Jamie Dimon are easily recognized. So is the Queen of England.

I pull a few cookies from the bag. Naturally, I want to eat Trump first. Well, I don’t know if that’s natural, but it is my impulse. The bag’s back lists all the rich cookies that they make but caution that not all the rich may be inside. They warn, too, some cookies might be broken.

All the cookies are busts of rich people. I find a Donald J. Trump. Orange, the resemblance is pretty good, for a cookie. I sniff it for impressions and get nothing. I figure, the cookie being orange, it might taste like pumpkins or orange, maybe lemon or some other citrus flavor. No; it tastes like cold and greasy McDonald’s Big Mac and French fries. Despite that, I eat the whole thing. I feel a little sick when I finish it. It leaves a bad aftertaste.

Half a cup of hot coffee dilutes the aftertaste. I check out other rich cookies and discover the cookies have the people’s names on the back. Bill Gates. David Koch. Queen Elizabeth. Mark Cuban. Alice Walton. Howard Schultz. Musk. Bezos. Zuckerberg. Sergey Brin.

David Koch’s cookie is white as a plastic Starbucks lid. No smell to it. I take a bite. Hard and crunchy, it has no taste. Frosted pink, with a pink hat. Queen Elizabeth is more appealing. Nibbling on her hat, I’m rewarded by a sweet raspberry lemonade taste. She’s so yummy, I eat her all.

I find a Larry Ellison but I don’t want to eat it and move on to another shortbread offering, Mark Zuckerberg. He’s white-faced with brown hair, with a frosted white shirt and the shoulders of a blue suits showing. I munch on the suit. A flavor I can’t identify overwhelms me. Another bite also mystifies me, reminding me of raw broccoli covered with milk chocolate. I want another bite. Sourness coats my tongue. Dill pickles. Despite that, I want one more bite. A black licorice flavor rises.

Half the cookie is gone. I figure I’ll finish it and stop. Zuckerberg’s head tastes like cotton candy one one side and bad tuna fish on the other. Two bites remain. First one is lemony but the second one tastes like forty cats shat in my mouth.

I drink the rest of my coffee to drown the flavors. After a minute, I start looking through the cookies for another Zuckerberg. That first, mystifying flavor haunts me. I don’t have any more Zuckerberg cookies. I head to the store to buy another bag, but it’s like they say: Zuckerberg might not be in the next bag. Although the bags cost ten dollars each, I buy three bags to improve my chances of getting a Zuckerberg.

Driving home, I wonder about that. He reminds me of Facebook. I don’t know what I’ll get but I feel like I must keep looking.

***

This is entirely fake news. I don’t know if “Eat the Rich” cookies exist outside of my imagination. They were just a whim springing out of a glance at a bag of frosted animal cookies.

2

The New Norm

I run through the checklist.

Check the Air Quality Index. We’re at unhealthy, bordering on very unhealthy. Remember, that’s an average, and it’s early. The AQI usually goes up (the air becomes unhealthy) as the temperature rises.

AQI 08062018

Checking the weather, I confirm that it’ll be in the nineties in our area, with no precipitation. (Ironically, I check Ash Station, ironic because of the fine ash that covers things after a few days.)

Forcast 08062018

It’s a mask day.

I apply my SPF 50 UV A/B lotion.

Then a hat to cover my head, and sunglasses for my eyes.

I’m ready to meet the great outdoors.

Masking up is becoming the new norm, along with skin and eye protection. It’s not truly the new norm yet. We haven’t monetized the masks.

There’s potential there.

America is a consuming, personality driven nation. I can see masks being spun to political preferences – MAGA masks, blue masks, Code Pink masks – but also to styles, personalities, and trends. Advertising can be put on masks. Budweiser and Coke can issue masks in their colors, with their logos, and give them away for free, or a discount. But two litters of Coke and get a free mask!

Pick up your mask with your Domino’s Pizza.

Or, take zombies. If you’re going to wear a mask, find a way to make it look like a zombie. Prefer Star Trek or Star Wars? Show it on your mask.

Bling can be added to the straps. The masks can be manufactured and offered in different colors. Come on, support the Pittsburgh Steelers in your Black & Gold mask. State your preference for the Oregon State Beavers in orange and black, or wear a green and yellow Duck mask to support Oregon University.

Call me a cynic (or call me Ishmael), I’m so surprised that some company hasn’t jumped all over this. I’m sure it’ll happen soon. When it does, when you finally start seeing blinged masks or masks supporting your cause or your team, then you’ll know that the new norm has arrived.

Speaking of which, I better stock up before the prices jump.

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United Airlines Lottery

United Airlines put me on a roller coaster this week. First, they announced plans to stop giving employees bonuses. They would instead use a lottery to reward them.

I thought it was a great idea. I always feel like it’s a lottery flying with United. Yes, I have a ticket for the flight, but do I have a seat? Will I get on a plane? And will it be on the day that I’m scheduled to be flying? Let’s start a betting pool!

The betting pools always made those of us waiting in the gate area feel better. Even though there was a chance we wouldn’t make the flight (or the flight wouldn’t go today), at least there was a small chance that we might win. It was a little rain of sunshine on a bitter day traveling on United Airlines.

I thought having employees rewarded by lottery would help employees and passengers bond. Now employees would feel how we passengers feel when we wait to see if we’re going to fly on the flight that we bought a ticket for.

I don’t think the executives were going to participate in the lottery. I felt sorry for them. It seemed mean of United to exclude them. I accuse United of being executivists, treating executives differently just because they’re executives. It seems like companies will discriminate about anything these days.

But then, United announced they were not going to do the lottery. Say whaaat? Apparently, the employees weren’t as excited about the bonus lottery as I was.

That surprised the president of United Airlines, Scott Kirby (which admittedly sounds like a movie star’s name in the 1940s). Kirby said, “Our intention was to introduce a better, more exciting program, but we misjudged how these changes would be received by many of you.”

I admit, I paused when I read that. The company president was surprised that people weren’t happy that they weren’t going to receive the bonus money that they were probably counting upon. I think that gives us a little more insight into why United sucks more each year (hell, each month) as an airline. It explains why they’re surprised when passengers are pissed about paying extra for the blankets, food, and a seat that isn’t out on the wing.

Is it surprising that United will start selling priority boarding for coach passengers? I believe they’ll next be selling priority exiting, too. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that they’re going to start charging for the seats in the crowded waiting areas around the gate. “I’m sorry, sir, can I see your ticket for that seat? You can’t sit there if you don’t have a ticket. Would you like to buy a ticket? Just five dollars per hour. What’s your flight number? Oh, you’ll need about six hours, then.”

Then, like all of United’s twisted, greedy thinking, they’ll oversell the tickets for the seats in the waiting area. “Sorry, just because you have a ticket, it doesn’t mean that you have a seat.”

I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that United Airlines employees must buy desk time at work.

United Airlines: “Fly with us. It’s a lottery.”

0

Guns & Love

It’s a way of looking at love and how love is expressed that I never considered.

The radio commercial featured a woman, talking to men. “Hey guys, I know you forgot to buy a Valentine’s Day gift again.”

Pause to consider the stereotype presented.

“But don’t worry. February is the month of love. So all month, you can come to the gun store and buy a gift for the loved one in your life.”

Now my stereotype is showing. When I think of Valentine’s Day gifts, guns don’t leap to mind. Candy, especially chocolates, a night out, jewelry, diamonds, flowers, lingerie…these are the stereotypes of the V.D. (sorry) gifts that come to my mind.

I suppose it’s valid for some cultures to say I love you with a gun. I imagine, outside of my sphere, there’s a whole world of gun-giving as gifts for special occasions. Keeping with paper, first year wedding anniversaries are probably celebrated with gun-range targets. In the fifth year, a nice, compact .22 pistol is given. For the ten year anniversary, give her a 30/30 hunting rifle.

The restaurant moments write themselves. He’s down on one knee, handing her a Sig. Her eyes shine with tears as she gasps and whispers, “It’s beautiful.” Around her, other patrons are gushing with appreciation. Applause breaks out as she accepts the gun and hugs her man. One woman hisses at her husband, “Why don’t you ever buy me a gun?”

I wonder if Hallmark has a range of gun cards for holidays?

4

Disaster Mind

Does an early morning telephone call kick a worried hiss into your mind, “Oh, no, what’s gone wrong? Who died?” Do you sit and think, if there’s a disaster here, how will we survive? Do you ever wonder if you left something on, such as the oven, after you departed the house, or if you closed the garage door, or locked the doors after leaving?

If you answered yes to one or more of these questions, you might be suffering from disaster mind.

Disaster mind is a chronic condition that afflicts millions of Americans. It can strike at any time. Recent studies conducted on the Internet estimate over ninety-nine percent of Americans suffer disaster mind. Although the middle-aged and elderly suffer disaster mind more often, students, professional athletes, sales managers, single people, married couples and parents are frequently prone to disaster mind.

Disaster mind affects more women then men, except during football season. Symptoms include worrying, anxiety, and eating comfort food to cope with worries. Extreme cases of disaster mind cause some people to drink more than one glass of wine or beer a night, complain, and wish for the “good old days.” People suffering from disaster mind tend to dawdle, read a great deal, and watch television and movies. Disaster mind sufferers often follow politics, and self-label as “political junkies.”

If you think you might be suffering from disaster mind, doctors suggest you try not to think about it. If that doesn’t work, indulge in wine or beer with pizza, followed by ice cream or pie, and lose yourself in a good book or movie. Chips with guacamole and cheesy foods also work well.

That’s what works for me.

1

New Trump Sayings

Donald Trump came up with a new expression the other day: “prime the pump.” He was discussing the U.S. economy with a magazine at the time. It’s another example of his tremendous ability to see and grasp complex situations and reduce them to something that can be tweeted and remembered.

Here’s a few other expressions he’s originated since becoming president.

  • A snowball’s chance in hell.
  • Between a rock and a hard place.
  • Once in a blue moon.

In each of those four instances above, the Tangelos mascot said, “Have you heard that expression used before? Because I haven’t heard it. I mean, I just…I came up with it a couple of days ago and I thought it was good. It’s what you have to do.”

He also claimed that he came up with the famous statement, “Ich bin ein Berliner,” while discussing the Berlin Wall with President Kennedy. Although only seventeen at the time, Trump said, “Walls always fascinated me, always. I had a gut feeling, you know, just a hunch, just a hunch, but I trust my hunches, I trust my instinct, that walls, like the one in Berlin that we built to protect us from communisms, were going to be important in my life, someday, and I was right. I was right.”

#fakenews

Well, almost fake news.

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