The advertisement boomed from the radio almost as a brief respite from all the blaring news about the cries-of-duh-unfittest protesting Trump’s election… and petitioning the Electoral College not to cast their votes for him in December.
The radio ad, promoting a university medical study to help you with drug and alcohol problems, asked: ‘Are you drinking more than you want to?’
And I immediately roared: “Hell, no! I ain’t drinking enough!”
And obviously neither are most of these fools.
I figure if I ever do drink sufficiently then hopefully some of these damn jackasses will start making sense – especially those crying a Niagara Falls as if another 911 plane crashed into the new Freedom Tower skyscraper that replaced the World Trade towers.
Besides…! What’s-a-matter with you? Big girls don’t cry. There’s no crying in politics. You’re acting like Reagan just got re-elected after reawakening from one of his many 20-year, afternoon naps. Or, stop duh world I wanna get off, Jimmy Carter finally stopped praying about what to do in Iran. And you really want bad?! Let’s bring that Bush kid back – and his V.P. Dick! — and go invade Bermuda… or Elba… or anybody else that ain’t got no weapons of mass destruction.
Man-o-man, as my dear ol’ bourbon sippin’ Pappy used to roar just before walloping me practically toothless: ‘You want something to cry about?! I’LL give you sumtin’ to cry about!’
Sheesh! Our dentist got rich.
Hey, the fact is about the only thing I don’t trust about Trump is that he actually DOESN’T drink. I mean that’s the same reason I don’t trust camels, either… or anything else that can go 7 days without kicking back and chugging the elixir of the gods.
Hell, folks, we got ourselves a man who not only don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t do drugs… he also don’t care one damn casino chip that some 2 million more of you voted for Hillary. Because he still won. And that’s the system – the same system that allowed him to legally declare bankruptcy, and enabled Hillary to declare she didn’t know nuttin’-honey about no emails. It’s the same system that’s been broken for Hillary’s last 30 years of public service and nobody’s gotten around to fixing it…
Or most anything else.
Hmm… And I wonder why…
And the trouble with all you ‘Never Trump’ folks seems to be that you are definitely three drinks behind me. At least. You gotta quit overdosing on so much coffee. Drink your bourbon straight. You’ll get used to it. It’ll still be the best part of waking up… and remembering that 47 percent of you DID NOT VOTE!
But of course!
Please… all you people on saltpeter bemoaning Trump ought to just go into the bathroom and grab yourself by the crotch… and be thankful that it ain’t Hillary’s. Because, as some famous guy somewhere undoubtedly uttered: Nothing is ever as good as it feels, and tomorrow ain’t gonna be as bad as it seems.
You got that?
Besides, the only thing demonstrated by running a person like Hillary was that the Democrats, this time, were obviously trying to sell us some supertanker of ‘overruns’ of leftovers of bad t-shirts. You know, like the ones at the seashore with an arrow pointing and stipulating: ‘I’m with stupid!’
I mean, can anyone tell me why, out of the million or more honorable, eligible, qualified and electable women in America, why was it that only Bill was able to find a few who were better?
Look, the earth is still spinning. The sun is still shining. The stock market didn’t crash. Your dog didn’t get fried for dinner. And Trump is still sleeping with Melania… in duh Big House.
Meanwhile, what I don’t understand – and never will – is all those folks who are absolutely certain they are smarter than the rest of us supposedly deceived fools. And they just can’t believe that life didn’t go as they planned for us. In other words no manifest destiny.
Well, all I can say is: life is life. Truman beat Dewey. Daly stole Chicago for JFK. And Trump was proven correct when he said the system is rigged.
Hey, I don’t wanna gloat, or even remind you, that even though I voted for Obama before, this time I definitely put my chips on red. After all, America wasn’t created by a bunch of pusillanimous poseurs of parsimonious patriotism. We’ve killed, battled and dueled for what we are – a flawed country, indeed, but the only one where little men can still attain big dreams.
Hell, socialism is where we are all miserable together. We never were supposed to be Europe or anybody else trying to historically preserve its tattered past. In America change, itself, is the value we hold dearest.
In fact, change may be our most important value. Things in America are definitely supposed to be bigger, better, cheaper, different, phenomenal, magnificent, powerful…and yes, even ‘Yuge!’
If we think we can… then we CAN. There is nothing so big an American shouldn’t be able to visualize. And attain. Everything and anything should always be possible here where idealism is almost inherent in our psyche.
Lincoln proved that and kept the country together. JFK proved that and broke the Catholic barrier. Obama proved that and bridged the racial divide. And now Trump proved that a political outlier, a man who did things his way, who grabbed life by more than just its balls, may be able to put Humpty Dumpty back together… again.
Indeed, it is worth giving him a shot. After all how much worse can things be for a guy who everyday always has a bad hair day?
This Thanksgiving holiday I’ll be visiting my brother-duh-heart-doc and his wife-duh-family-lawyer, their children and grandchildren, as well as other relatives all gathered together in San Francisco to break bread and pretend we like each other.
Also, I will be the only Jewish drop-out there. A Jewish drop-out is a guy who didn’t get his Ph.D. Which seems apropos since I will also be the only person there to have voted for Trump.
Of course, I will patiently indulge them and their fashionably liberal palaver – even though they readily recoil in horror whenever I tell them that you can never be too crazy, but you can be too sane. It’s what makes America great! Yet, they look at me aghast like I am some Moby Dick about to splash through their flawless California wine cellars and ship their children off to a kibbutz… where actual manual labor is required.
By the end of my stay and imbibing, we will have once again agreed that change is the only constant in life… as long as it’s change they don’t abjure. And that the two things people hate most in life are: the way things are… and change.
Yet, they also will again assess me rather dourly when they try to reckon why even a not-so-nice-Jewish boy like me has been praying with 4,200 congregants, at an all but me and one other white guy, black Baptist Church the last 10 years.
Like, what duh hell?
And so I’ll have to tell them what the pastor ended his sermon with the other Sunday: ‘We may have a new President, but we’ve still got the same old G-d.’
And that seems to be another good reason to drink heavily… even if the Baptist aren’t supposed to recognize each other at the liquor store.
And dats yDrewIS on dis penal colony…