Category Archives: satire

Break Out the Crystal Ball

Hillary Clinton – nourishing obscurity

LEAD STORY, Oct. 19, 2021–

Chief Justice George Soros ruled yesterday that the “Thank You Tax,” payable to the Clinton Foundation, is “a perfectly constitutional response” to the second round of the coronavirus pandemic.

The other eight justices of the court were declared “non-essential” and sent home last week.

“It’s not like it’s going into my own pocket,” said President Hillary Clinton. “I only get just 5% of whatever the foundation takes in. That’s only 5% more than some deplorable out there!”

The “Thank You Tax” must be paid on any medicine, medical treatment, masks, gloves, hand sanitizer, or testing having to do with the coronavirus, now called Trump’s Damned Virus (officially renamed such last week by Congress). It must also be paid along with any purchase of food, clothing, or household items made by Republicans–“since it’s their party’s fault that we got this virus,” said Speaker of the House Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.

NEXT: Mandatory Transgender or Mandatory Abortions? Schumer Can’t Make Up His Mind.

 


Welcome to Our Youtube Channel

I didn’t even knew we had a Youtube channel, until Lydia subscribed to it the other day. Now we have a subscriber, too. Apparently they create a channel for you if you post a video.

I wrote this little ditty in 2013, before there was a “transgender” movement, before we were scourged with Drag Queen Story Hour, and Andrea Schwartz created the music video.

Boy, if the church was throwing in the towel back then, what’s it doing now?

Well, never mind! Today’s a new day. We don’t have to bow down to this squirming mass of abominations. Speak the truth, sing the hymns, say the prayers, and never give in.

Never give in.


All A’s Foar All Stoodints!!!

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Sumbboddy thay toled me I “was” Speling “Stodent” wrong and “It” was maiking me Look stopid so i has chainged “it!

Butt “the” Big News Tooday “is” frumb nhow On al of us Hear At Collidge we “are” al goingto get Strait As!!!!!!! Ouur Stoodint Soviet de-manndid It!! And the Amministriation thay emeeditly sayed Yes!!! How grate “is” That???

Buy giving evry boddy All As we acromplitsh twoo impotent Things! 1)One) we toatully Get Rid “of” Discrimbinnasion, we maik All Stoodints Equill!!! 2)Towo) This it maiks it “so” Anny Boddy thay canbe A Prefesser,, all thay got to Doo is rite a A on evry Thing!! That is moar Equill!! 3)Thryeee) This meens Evry boddy thay can Gradurate Whith Onners!!!! waht cood be Moar Equill Than That???

Sumb Biggit he sayed “this hear it “whill” Maik a deegree “frumb” this hear Collidge wirth Assolutlee nothing” so we al Jumpt on himb and Beet himb Up!!! We dont Tollereight no In-Tollerinse at our Collidge!!!

The “ownly” not so Good Thing abuot it is,, the Amministriation thay went and dubbled the Tution!!! It doughnt effect Me becose i let themb Shoot Me Up whith Moth Hoarmoans and so thay let me stay Heer for Freee butt i dunt Know “how” sumb “otther” Stoodints thay “are” goingto Pay al That Munny butt the Amministriation thay sayed “thay” aslo has a Plan “to” Cut Cawsts!!

Abandoned Barn Photograph by Gej Jones

Yes!! Thay has bawt this Grate billding,, thats It “up thare” in the pitcure,, and It willbe The New Nantsy Pallosy Memborial Dorm and Stoodints thay can Live “thare” at a redeuced Price!!! It will Saive them Lots “of” Dollerds!!!!

Otther Equilly “wunderfull Improovemints thay “Are” “on” The Way”” sayed our Collidge Pressadint i foreget his Naimb but it has vouls in it!!!


Educators Recognize ‘Centaur’ as an ‘Identity’

Centaur of Attention (Horse) - Centaur - T-Shirt | TeePublic AU

We were bound to get to this point sooner or later: crackbrained authority figures insisting we “affirm” whatever “identity” someone chooses to adopt–even if it’s a mythological creature that has never existed.

School officials at Hangem High School in Yuggoth, Michigan, now recognize “any and all identities” claimed by students and staff, and compel the entire school population to recognize them, too (http//:www.liketotallyfullofit.com). The school is redesigning the cafeteria to accommodate three students who insist they are centaurs.

Thanks to the revolutionary new policy, Hangem High’s student body and teaching staff now include three centaurs, seven vampires, Prince Charles, two mutually hostile Barack Obamas, a Dilophosaurus, Nancy Pelosi, the Lone Ranger, and Chuck Schumer’s Love Child–just to name a few.

“This has worked out very well indeed!” says Principal Albert “Clarabelle” Fanoogi, who now wears a clown costume when he patrols the school’s hallways, from time to time squirting students with a seltzer dispenser.

P.S.–April Fool!


The Bodies Are on the Peapod Trucks!!!

Brooklyn Artists—Enter To Redesign Peapod Delivery Trucks - BKLYNER

The noozies’ latest left-wing narrative, which is already spreading like–well, like a virus!–is that “hospitals have refrigerator trucks full of dead bodies parked around back.”

Ah! But I have it on thoroughly impeachable authority that most of those tens of thousands of dead bodies coming each day out of our hospitals are being carted away on Peapod grocery delivery trucks!

“It’s been working like a charm so far,” said an idiot who has the papers to prove he’s an idiot. “So far, nobody has called the hospital, called their doctor, called the police, or called the funeral director to find out what’s happened to their loved ones. No supermarket employee has even noticed that the bodies are being stockpiled there. No one even dreams, when they see a Peapod truck in their neighborhood, that it’s carrying the dead.”

“This way,” he concluded, “the government can hide the truth–the fact!–that, because of Donald Trump, 710 million Americans have already died from the coronavirus. If you don’t see the bodies, you can’t count the dead.”

 


The Bishop of Booh (‘Oy, Rodney’)

silly romance novels | Lee Duigon

“Dear reader, we have come to a stressful time in Scurveyshire…” Thus Violet Crepuscular introduces Chapter CCCLII of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney. She then devotes several paragraphs to the feasibility of writing “a dental romance,” whatever that may be. A series of anonymous threats drags her back to the story line.

Scurveyshire’s beloved vicar having chained himself to his night-stand and refusing to leave, the Bishop of Booh arrives by oxcart to remove the vicar by force. Because he’s not a real bishop, he has to make do with an ordinary bathrobe and a birthday party hat. He wears a stern expression that would be unbearably daunting, but for the fact that he carries a stuffed monkey doll which he talks to from time to time. Lord Jeremy Coldsore, justice of the peace, Constable Chumley, representing all that is inarticulate and confusing in the law of England, and Willis Twombley, the American adventurer, are on hand to welcome the alleged bishop.

“Now that you’re here,” says Twombley, “you can turn right around and go back to wherever you came from. We like our vicar jist the way he is, conniptions and all, and we aim to keep him.”

“See how the naughty man talks to Booh-Booh!” The bishop is addressing the doll. “But we know what to do with nefandous people, don’t we, Winkie?” He turns to Lord Jeremy. “I am here to repossess the vicar’s backyard wading pool for non-payment and to pack him off to Manchuria. Take me to the vicarage at once!”

Not knowing what else to do, Lord Jeremy conducts the bishop to the vicarage. The vicar seems them coming and starts screaming imprecations that really must not be repeated here. But the bishop has espied the wading pool and decides to inspect it. Constable Chumley tries to dissuade him.

“Noo, noo, yer thwither! Tis a mortal grathwy syne!”

“Out of my way, you pedipalp!” He clouts the constable with the monkey. There must be a brick in it or something: down for the count goes Chumley.

“I say!” cries Lord Jeremy. But the bishop is already on his way to the pool.

“I can barely describe the infernal horror of this scene!” writes Ms. Crepuscular. “I can’t bear it, I tell you!”

Here she interposes a chapter break to heighten the suspense. But we can probably guess what happens next.

 


We Got Secrete collidge Coarses!!

Young woman hiding under the bed - Stock Photo - Dissolve

Hear at Collidge “this” weak thay tryed “to” Send alll us Stodents Home so thare isnt “that” menny “of” us lefft On Campas jist nhow butt The Stodent Soviet we toled the Amminastriation that iff “thay” maid us al Go Home we wood riot!!! So somb of “us” we “are” staying and annyway wye shood We Be “scaired” “of” a stopid Vyris???

I dont Know “wye” thay didded “this” butt The Addminastriation thay sayed fromb Nhow On al “our” coarses thay has “to be” teeched In Secrete!!!! Whe “are” Not aloud to tell no boddy abuot themb, wee “are Not” aloud to say waht thay bin Teeching Us!!!! In facked one of my Nothing Studdies prefessers she woont evin tel Us waht she “is” teeching us!!!!! “”Jist yiu maik Shure yiu lern it she sayed!!” butt watt doo we Cair, we Got Past/Fale nhow Insted of Graids and no boddy thay evver Fale!!!!

Anether prefesser he sayed “Wee shooda bin Dooing this “al allong” and teeching Nothing “in” Nothing Studdies!!!”” Whell he has a Poynt!!! Butt i amb pritty shure i Whas lerning Nothing anyway,, at leesed i Was Trying To lern Nothing!!

So nhow al The Coarses thay are Secrete,, sumb of us we Cant evin Fyned wat Haul the Class is saposed to be In!! This gye whoo eets Smart Flakes he says thay “are” dooing “This” to pertecked the Collidge fromb annyOne fynd Out watt thay “are” reely Teeching becose Iff “thay” knowed then we wood looze our Funding and aslo “Lots” of Dollers$$$!

Wen wee “are Not” acxurely in Classs we “are” saposed To hied Under Our Bedds so No One frumb rite-Wing biggit hat sites wil know we “Are” Still Hear and maik a Phuss aboat it!!!!!!!


‘Jackalope Captured Alive!’ (2016)

See the source image

If this doesn’t prove that Man-Made Climbit Change is real, I don’t know what will.

https://leeduigon.com/2016/02/14/jackalope-captured-alive/

Actually, I’m kind of content not to know what proves Man-Made Climbit Change is real. This gap in my knowledge doesn’t feel like a gap at all. More like something’s missing that shouldn’t be there anyway.

Besides, it’s a known fact that only drips are afraid of jackalopes.


Here’s Another Laugh

Someone cleverly adopted Abbott & Costello’s “Who’s on First?” routine, with President George Bush and Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice trying to figure out who (Hu?) is the new president of China. I’m allowed to laugh at W. because I voted for him twice. Anyway, it’s a very funny video.


The Vicar Gets Canned! (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Violet Crepuscular introduces Chapter CCCLI of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, with a caveat.

“Dear reader,” she writes, “you may find the content of the foregoing chapter rather distressing. That’s why I have provided this caveat. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

Word has come down from the Bishop of Booh that the beloved vicar of Scurveyshire, conniptions and all, has been fired from his post and transferred to a mission station in Manchuria. “We are removing said vicar for his latitudinarian tendencies,” explains the bishop, “and his failure to complete payment on his back yard wading pool. Please consider this to be subcutaneous.”

Constable Chumley’s reaction speaks for the community: “Luffer yon furd wi’ mickle great theer,” he sighs. This saying immediately becomes the watchword for all Scurveyshire.

The vicar has chained himself to his night-stand and refuses to leave. “I’ll give him subcutaneous!” He roars defiance. Records show that there is no such bishopric as “Booh” and that the current incumbent has been appointed by some charlatan in Kansas. But as Lord Jeremy Coldsore says, as he tries valiantly to avoid intervening in the controversy, “A bishop is a bishop.”

A further notice from the bishop arrives that afternoon: “Don’t make me come down there!”

“I kinda like our vicar,” remarks the American adventurer, Willis Twombley. He then cacchinates in a way that raises doubts as to his sanity. “I do wish he wouldn’t cacchinate!” mutters Lord Jeremy.

The upshot of it all is that the vicar remains chained to his night-stand for the time being because no one knows what to do. It has been some 800 years since Scurveyshire was last visited and reprimanded by a bishop, in the days of Corinius the Pipsqueak. “And that,” concludes Ms. Crepuscular, “is an historical experience that no one wishes to repeat!”


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