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14 Women Now Claim to Have Groped the Former President
A 14th Woman has joined the growing list of women in the latest sex scandal to rock the corridors of power.
In a sworn affadavit, Bonnie Devers, who worked on President Obamas re-election campaign in 2012, recounts how she “accidentally” brushed her hand across the President buttocks.
“I had a feeling of power”, ms. Devers is quoted as saying. “He gave me a funny look, but what could he do? I would just say that he rubbed those firm, rounded, funballs of manflesh against my fingers, and he knew it!”
The accounts of the claimants have an eerie similarity, evincing a pattern of abuse that spanned the former President’s entire two terms. Phrases recur with a regularity that defies coincidence:
“He looked shocked…”
“I could tell he wanted it!”
“..still feel his primal grip as he removed my hand from his…”
“…Secret Service questioned me, I felt intimidated…”
Ursula Coggins recounts how she felt encouraged by Obama to act inappropriately…
“It was his eyes, they sucked me in with their story of longing, want, and need, the lying bastard!”
A spokesman for the former first family says the Obamas are seeking no counseling at thus time….(cont. on page A7)



I finally had it out with a troll on my page,
I vigorously typed out my rage
But on the Net, what you say remains
In permanent storage on some foreign mainframe.
Hack, hack, away they hack, they hack all day
And took our identities away….
So now, the troll says to me, that i’m a dumb liberal elitist commie
I do my best, to ignore the clown
But like an evil spirit he keeps dragging me down
Ive argued all day with a troll with no shame
His talking points are always the same
Hes right, you’re wrong, and your arguments lame,
He’s probably a Bot with a Russian name.
Da, da ,dadada da dah, dada da da dah

After 3 days of pointless repartee, the troll unfriended me
And then, I found myself blocked when
I messaged him wittily
I felt empty inside, the victory denied was a blow to my pride
I spent all day seeking a troll I could shame
But nobody is up to my game
They said, “Look in the mirror, bud, and repeatedly utter your name.”
Lala lala lalalala, I cannot hear you….


My inner rapper was up early this morning…

A trump was bound to happen, cuz people got caught nappin, yo, hear me out while I got a voice, while I got a mic and we still got a choice.

We hung ten in the sixties, dug Batman’s car
Unless we got sent to fight their ugly war
That made no sense but dollars and cents
Both sides bought the rich man weapons
Fortunes were earned, but no lesson was learned
A trump was bound to happen

Over disco and punk and fashion we fought
And the country’s inner city continued to rot,
Became poverty traps, where brothers get shot
If they didnt get sent to the pen
A Trump was bound to happen

One Party gave our jobs away
The other just stayed out of the way
Said “to hell with the people on the factory floor”
And joined the others begging at the CEO”s door
A Trump was bound to happen

Who shot JR, who starts the wars
Whoever they say, now stay the course
We was watching TV, Michael toe tappin
To a beat he stole from some street rapper
A Trump was bound to happen

Wars are for the good of The Man and his Kind
They get richer, America’s falling behind
Other countries, where you will find
Better medicine, safer food, more peace of mind
Other nations do better by every metric
Roads, schools, security, better care of the sick
There’s no vacuum for a Trump to happen

But we’re as divided as a nation can be
Anyone with good eyes can plainly see
Between those who shed tears for refugees
And those without an ounce of empathy,
Who blame the weakest of the weak
For the loss of home, family, and dignity.
And when we don’t want to let them in
Because of their race, their face or their religion,
A Trump can, a Trump can happen

A Trump can happen
When all the good people do is cry their eyes out
Stay home from rallies, refuse to shout about
The tyranny that’s coming, don’t be in doubt
So many good laws they’re willing to flout
Watch him cozy up to dictators and louts
On Flatscreen madness as our destiny
Is determined by the viewers of reality TV
Repeating the errors of history
We have Trump now, Long ago we had Huey
They appeal to the fearful, hateful, and loony
A great America doesn’t mean it’s good,
And it’s even less so when run by a hood
Who thinks America, the land of the free
Means mainly for him and his family
A Trump can happen, a Trump can happen
Hap-hap, haha ha-happen…(fade)

Culled From My Facebook Page

Andruids- adherents of an ancient robotic religion whose main tenets include belief in the backward-compatiblity of souls and that Linux is the OS of heaven.
There is a new horror movie out, It Depends, about a clown that lives in the sewers and terrorizes the elderly.
BatMania- an overwhelming urge to put on a mask and fight crime
They finally arrested that sarcastic fisherman, but not before he hurt a lot of people with his vicious barbs.

Fashion shows are sorta like junior high science fairs, everyone pretends to ‘get’ it, and nothing useful is ever seen at either event.

They say it’s turtles, all the way down. What worries me however, is the thought that we may not be astride the top turtle.

I’ll soon pardon me, libs, 
but first on my list
Is Sheriff Arpaio
He hates scum of the Earthers
And, like me, he’s a birther
So, no jail for Joe
Pardon me, my family, and attorneys
All my closest associates
Maybe even my pets
The judges decision was really bad
Sheriff Arpaio is no ordinary cad
He’s like my dear old Dad
The sheriff was only the first,
And there will be far worse

Than Joe Arpaio

Why is the heart considered the seat of our emotions, the organ that symbolizes spiritual love? It’s a pump! It’s essential to life, yeah, but it just sits there and goes ba-dump. Hearing a gal’s heartbeat sans stethoscope isn’t what the fellas brag about over brewskis, if a guy has his ear pressed to a woman’s chest, things other than her heart rate are his current focus.


Why wait until you’re so angry that bile is backing up in your throat, and your BP could power a pressure washer, to vent your spleen? Shouldn’t we crack the valve a couple of times a day? If nothing else, it would take some of the load off the little fella.


Do half-assed people have semi- colons?


What is it about abject fear that turns a coward’s liver into lilies?


Do blue bloods have their own blood banks?


The answers to these and many other questions can be found in the appendix.

A Poem About a Good Wall


From Bristol and from Brittany,
From Thailand and Japan
Azerbaijan and Albany, Canada and Sudan
From ninety lands the families come
To a place that’s not the same
They’re coming to New York City
To find their loved one’s name

Some only have to walk,
or maybe ride a train
Others touch their crosses before they’ll board the plane
Some visit Ground Zero alone, some travel with a friend
They come to New York City
So they can touch the name

The names will always be there, although the vistors will change
For many the name that’s listed there is the sum of their remains

Heads bowed before the wall, a grieving family stands
Aware of passers’ wary glances.
For they come from a Muslim land
Mother reaches out her hand, touches Father’s name
He died responding, per his calling,
Some will never understand

Sad lady finds her husband
Chiseled into stone
Traces ‘Benjamin’ with her finger
And asks him to come home

Dad tries hard to find the words
when his daughter asks him why
On the day that death rained from the sky
Mommy forgot to say goodbye 

Everyone looks so different, but their stories end the same
All they have are memories now, on a wall of many names


The CEO’s Letter

I bought me a ticket on an aeroplane,
Did the TSA hustle, found my seat, and then
The cops they came and grabbed me,
gave my seat to an employee!
And the CEO, he sent me a letter.

When I think about how much money I spent
Just to get away for one lousy weekend
You’re damn right, I’m whining!
I should be zip-lining
Instead of reading the CEO’s letter

Yes, he wrote me a letter that I couldn’t read because the print was too small.
But I heard him say on the news last night that I was the cause of it all.

Screw me!

I should be on my way to Paradise
sipping a mai-tai in the friendly skies
But twice they sold my seat, so airport food I eat
While I write my lawyer a letter


The Mountain Laurel flower is beautiful from the time it buds until it blooms