Category Archives: satire

Lady Margo, Mrs. Chumley (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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As we enter Chapter CCXXXIII of Violet Crepuscular’s epic romance, Oy, Rodney, we find Lady Margo Cargo trying to adapt to her new role as the wife of Constable Chumley, to whom she was accidentally married two chapters ago. She has yet to discover the constable’s first name. So have we.

“This must be undone!” Lord Jeremy Coldsore declares. It had been his plan to marry Lady Margo, the richest widow in Scurveyshire, and so save his ancestral home, Coldsore Hall, from a growing legion of creditors.

“Germy, ol’ hoss, we’re runnin’ out of places to hide the bodies,” says Jeremy’s friend, the American adventurer Willis Twombley. Twombley has been shooting creditors and hiding them around the hall and grounds. “If we don’t marry Lady Margo, we’re sunk.”

Meanwhile the constable goes about his duties and enjoys his evenings at The Lying Tart as if he weren’t married at all. It may be he has forgotten the incident. But then–

“I believe I’m with child by the constable,” Lady Margo confides in Twombley. “Dr. Fanabla says it’s all in my head, the marriage has not been consummated, and why don’t I just shut up about it–but I can’t!”

“Why don’t you jist get the marriage annulled?” asked Twombley. “I’m sure the vicar will be happy to do it for you.” He is not aware that the vicar has relapsed into more conniptions. “And if he can’t do it, Lord Germy can: he’s the justice of the peace, ain’t he?”

“But I gave my word to the constable!” cries Lady Margo.

Later, over enormous tankards of ale at the pub, Twombley tries to persuade the constable to disavow the marriage. “Mayhap the furthin be thwall a-beedle,” replies the constable. He has begun his  correspondence course in mole-ology and is preoccupied by it.

Lord Jeremy is almost frantic. “We’ve got to get that so-called marriage annulled by the next chapter at the latest! Or, as you said, old boy, we’re sunk!” He could, of course, declare the whole thing null and void, and have the assistant justice removed from his post and thrown in jail; but at the moment he is too upset to think clearly.

 


I Mist The Elecktoin!!

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So I goed to Vote twoday and thay toled me i mist the elecktoin it’s Over!!!

Well i wasnt goingto Take “that” so i throwed my self “on” the Flore and did kicking “and” screeming and yeled But “I has a impotent Demmocrat vote!!!! yiu cant “do” this” “to me”!!! and neckst thing i Know “this ” guy he comes in “And” grabs my hare and bops my Hed aginst “the” flore Five or Sicks Times to make me stopp!!! and then he says Why “dont” we “jist let this hear Fyne yung man “do a rite-in” vote,, “Hear sunny jist rite yore vote on this hear peace of Payper”! so i done it!! I rote in Hi,llery and aslo Pressadint Obamma and than thay “made” me Go Awaiy!!! But so waht,, at leest i Voted!!! Aslo i sayed the Russhins thay made “me layte!” and thay Beleaved that!!!

it jist gose to show yiu “that” evry Vote it have got “to” be Countid!!! and hear at Collidge i has lernt that “yiu shuld” alyaws be throne “a” Tantrum then yiu get “waht” yiu whant!!!

but Now my Hed it hurts,, that guy “he bended” one of My moth Antenners so i think I better sea iff I “can” fyned some Druggs! and i wahnt to rite a litter to Hillery so shee knows “i Voted” four her!!


A Whole New Economic Philosophy! Absolutely Guaranteed to Work!

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Forget about capitalism! Socialism–that’s old hat! In fact, just throw out all the isms–’cause we’ve got something better!

Dr. Elrond Pubis, professor of Intersectional Economics at Planaria State University, has devised a whole new economic system which he predicts will soon become the model for the entire world.

He calls it “Magic.”

“Cut to the chase!” he explains. “We want what we want when we want it–right?

“Well, in my new system, the government will have the power to grant each and every citizen three wishes. You only get those three, so don’t waste ’em! And as an added bonus” (aren’t bonuses always additional?), “we’ll have full employment because the government will have to hire practically everybody just to keep track of all the wishes!”

Dr. Pubis said he got the idea from reading “certain ancient lore” involving… well, fairies. “Scoff if you like!” he said. “But we are on the verge of hiring former attorney general Loretta Lynch to track down and prosecute Fairy Denial.”


Lady Margo’s Error (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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In Chapter CCXXXI of Violet Crepuscular’s epic romance, Oy, Rodney, Lady Margo Cargo, the richest widow in Scurveyshire, laments, “I always manage to make a hash of things!” That’s putting it mildly.

Confused by the incessant delays of her marriage to Lord Jeremy Coldsore and his friend, the American adventurer Willis Twombley–she thinks they’re the same person, and gets bewildered when they’re both in the room at the same time–and another marriage proposal from her butler, Crusty, Lady Margo has mistakenly married Constable Chumley.

It only happened because Lord Jeremy, the shire’s justice of the peace, was indisposed with a toothache, probably due to a spell cast by the medieval necromancer, Black Rodney: this time Johnno the Merry Minstrel was unable to find the applicable cuss bag, cunningly concealed in one of the pockets of the billiard table. By the time Johnno finds it, the damage is done.

With Lord Jeremy groaning in his bed, and Twombley temporarily prostrate with strong drink, the assistant justice, Master Roger Addlepate, who is also the assistant village idiot, steps in to perform the wedding. He meets the constable on his way to Lady Margo’s opulent country house and recruits him as the groom: there are plentiful gaps in his understanding of the situation.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife, etc.?”

“Wore the weevil in a sorthing mole,” declares the constable. He is actually thinking of a correspondence course in mole-ology, but Master Roger takes his answer as a “yes” and then pressures Lady Margo into going along with it. “Will you please hurry!” he cries. “I am late for a darts match at The Lying Tart!” Flustered, Lady Margo blurts out “Yes!” without knowing what she’s yessing.

“I now pronounce you man and wife!”

Crusty bursts into the parlor to put a stop to this nonsense, but he’s too late.

“What have you done, my lady?” he cries. Meanwhile, Chumley departs with Master Roger because he’s scheduled to play darts tonight, too.

“I think I’ve just married that man,” admits Lady Margo, in a hushed tone. “I’m not even sure which one.”

“Words fail me to describe this lamentable scene any further,” adds Ms. Crepuscular.


I Amb sick And Fackts thay Are hat Speach!

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I was anctious Twoday to get to “the” Stodent Soviet meting wee Are “goingto” Out-law and Ban al Hate Fackts becose thay “are” jist hat speach and No One “canbe” aloud to say Them anny moare!! axept wen i got Up “tooday”” i was sick!!!! I didnt knowe It At frist but than somboddy thay toled me “Yiu has got Spotts all” over “yiu” and wen i wented to “The” Infermery the norse she sayed i got Meezles!!! no wunder i feeled so Bad!!

But i whasnt “goingto” let That “stop” Me fromb going two The Meting so i whent and wen i sitted Down than evry boddy thay strated Moving Awhay fromb me like i hadd Coodies or somthing! and i sayed “wahts the Mater whith al of yiu???” and somboddy thay sayed “wel yiu Got Meezles and “That” is a Dizzeese and it is Cantajiss and i dont wanta ketch it fromb Yiu”!!!

i ansered “Now see,, That “Is” jist waht we meen, That is a Hate Fackt and i amb jist a victimb!!!” and yiu “has” to ignor them Meezles lyke thay wasnt Thare!!!”” and our Commissarr she sayed “Yiu know waht? he is Rihght!! Sayin he got Meezles, that reely Is! a Hate Fackt and we can not Akknollidge it so evry boddy yiu has got to Moove yore ” Chares back “up Clost To himb!!!”” So evry boddy thay didd that becose we Are “Not” goingto “pay” no Attentchin to No Hate Fackts anny moare!!

And then Sombthing beuttifull It hapened!! The Commissarr she sayed “Wee has lett a Hate Fackt hurt Joes Feeelings! so now we has to has a Groope Hugg!!”& so we done a reely long And Sqkwishy groope Hugg untill “My” Feeelings thay whasnt hurt no Moare!!! and we spendded al Day twogethar singin hapy songs!!!

and Now i dont feeel so Goood and mayby iff I ete somb Jim Sox i wil feele beter!


‘”White Privilege Tax”: Are Liberals Retarded?’ (2015)

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These white people wouldn’t have to pay it.

This was only a joke, three years.

Put Democrats in power, and see how long it stays a joke.

https://leeduigon.com/2015/07/21/white-privilege-tax-are-liberals-retarded/

Sorry to mention it again: but the vote is tomorrow, and those people have got to be crushed. Hopefully for good.


Bram Stoker Visits Scurveyshire (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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In Chapter CCXXX of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney–we’re still waiting for Chapter CCXXIX–Violet Crepuscular writes of a visit to Scurveyshire by Bram Stoker, the famed author of Dracula. It is vain to protest that Stoker wasn’t born until 1847 and would have been only three years old in 1850. “I do not believe the dates commonly given,” asserts Ms. Crepuscular. Nor do we get anywhere by denying that Stoker spoke fluent Pidgin with a broad Irish accent. “My sources are impeccable,” she says. We are not sure she knows what “impeccable” means.

Stoker comes to Scurveyshire to do research for Dracula, which was not published until 1897. He is immediately informed that “We ain’t had but one vampire in Scurveyshire, and he retired from it long ago to go into the tea business. Last we heard, he had a big plantation in Norway.” But before he can leave, he learns that Scurveyshire is being terrorized by the long-dead necromancer, Black Rodney. His interest is piqued.

Stoker interviews Constable Chumley at The Lying Tart, where the local brew goes straight to his head and incites him to entertain the night’s customers by reciting rather lurid nursery rhymes. “Yer flothering bandy fair made a clogger that brawsty night,” the constable recalls.

The next night, Stoker disappears. Forever. It is discovered that the itinerant spider girl, Lizzie Snivel, fell madly in love with Scurveyshire’s exotic visitor: and also that he took advantage of her infatuation to purchase from her a rare Tasmanian blow-dried spider at a shamefully low price. Miss Lizzie, the only witness, insists that Mr. Stoker, hunting for traces of Black Rodney, ventured dangerously close to the wading pool in the vicar’s back yard. “I fear he was dragged under by them tentacles!” she cries. “Oh, I should have stopped him!”

Still trying to plan his wedding to Lady Margo Cargo, Lord Jeremy Coldsore finds it hard to do his duty as Scurveyshire’s justice of the peace. “I don’t have time to investigate the disappearance of a Pidgin-speaking Irishman!” he cries. So there is no investigation, and the wading pool has claimed another victim.

We are promised that in Chapter CCXXXI, Lord Jeremy will acquire a new cravat especially for the wedding.


‘This Just In (Some Very Hot News Flashes)’ (2015)

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This little blog scooped all the Big Media on these red-hot news stories, three years ago. In fact, the Big Media have yet to catch up.

https://leeduigon.com/2015/04/01/this-just-in-some-very-hot-news-flashes/

How distressing it is to think we had John Kerry as our secretary of state, and almost had him as our president.


A Book to Avoid

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Violet Crepuscular, celebrated author of the epic romance, Oy, Rodney, has another book out which I urge you to avoid. It is unworthy of her.

In Nazrat of the Moles, the infant son of an English lord and lady, orphaned when his parents are attacked and eaten by hedgehogs, is adopted by a family of moles and taught how to live underground. That means no one ever sees him. And he makes quite a mess of the neighborhood’s lawns.

Nazrat has many of adventures as he pursues earthworms and beetle grubs, runs into a lot of stubborn tree-roots, and eventually rises to become chief of the moles.

His idyllic existence is disrupted when a party of homeless Swedish nobles gets lost in the suburban subdivision in which he lives. As he tries to protect them from the hedgehogs, Nazrat falls in love with the Swedish mole-ology professor’s daughter, Janie. I am not convinced there is such a word as mole-ology.

Nazrat teaches Janie how to burrow, and she joins him in his underground life. Now no one sees her anymore, either.

Really, Violet–how could you?


Yiu can Ownly EEt Socile Jutstus Iyce Creem!!

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[Editor’s Note: WordPress has torpedoed me again! If you see this post appear twice instead of once, it’s not my fault.]

We,lll our Stodent Soviet we has dunn “a” Big Thing!! We has maked a roole to get “rid of” evry Kynde of Iyce Creem axept Benin Jary’s Iyce Creem becose ownly Benin Jary’s it stants “for” Socile Jutstus and Dyvercity!!! So fromb now on on Campas yiu cant has anny kynde Of Iyce Creamb butt Benin Jary’s and “that Is” howe yiu get Dyvercity!!

Yiu see,, Benin Jary’s Iyce Crimb thay pro-motes Socile Jutstus and Enviarmintle Jutstus and Peple of Culler and Wimmin and E-quality!!! It is aslo good becose “It” is maid in Benin witch is sombware in Affricka like rihght neckst To Swizzerland!!

And So fromb now on yiu cant has “No” uther Iyce Creemb butt Benin Jary’s and in Facked we dunn sombthing Elsse two, we maked “a” roole That yiu has to eet Benin Jary’s Eyes Creemb evry Day or else “it” Is hat speatch and yiu are “a” Hater and a Racist and a Biggit and thare Isnt “no Plaice” four yiu in this hear Collidge and iff yiu Skipp a Day then yiu get Flunked Out of al yore corsets butt iff yiu Eat It evry day Like “we” tolled yiu than yiu get All A”s pluss a ottomatick deegree in Socile Jutstus Studdies!!!!! How abote That!!

We “are” Doiing this “For” Fredomb and Dyvercity and no one thay is aloud to Say any Diffrint!!!


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