Channeling Dr Seuss

Dr Suess Weighs In
Trump he trumpeted about a great wall
Mexico, he said, would pay for it all!
Trump stumped well, but can’t govern at all
And so Trump’s numbers took a great fall

Then Trump jumped on North Korea’s Kim
Said “There’s a lot I don’t like about him.”
Hes a lying grandstanding attention whore
A manchild with bad hair, need i say more?

Trump’s humpin’ for Putin takes the cake
Although he claims the truth is a fake!
He snuggles and cuddles with those who dictate,
Those who oppress, and those who hate
With democracy’s leaders, he cannot relate.

Trump jumped the swamp when he hired
The very sort he had promised to fire
The ultra rich, who couldnt care less
Whose oblige is less than noblesse

Who think poverty is ever the fault, you see,
Of people who lack drive, pride, and piety
Who think “I’m rich because He likes me,
Not so much, do my old friends and family.”

Trump likes to lump people, the grump,
By race or religion, or if they have mumps
Says racists are nice, some even have class
I say no way, José, por favor kick his ass!



What a joke we are, we put  jokes in power
That make America less great with each passing hour.
Im tryin not to lose it, keep it real amidst the bullshit
Doin’ my best not to contribute to it, just shuck and jive my way through it. Live and let live, day to day

But sometimes yall come on so strong, like were all wrong, like only you all know
Exactly where to go, precisely when to do it, do not think, you might just screw it..up!
Dont let it get you down when the facts just arent round, in numbers that might soothe you’
We’re fast trackin brand new facts to comfort and use, you know we’re in your corner, and in your bedroom and your bar.I want a job, I want respect instead of hand-outs. But to sweep a floor, I must fill this jar and a 22-page form out, and along with my GPA,
They want my preferred  method, what would be my favorite way,
To make myself the boss honcho of these US of A’s?
I think I would chose force, of the choices violence is worse
But i would use one, both, or the other
The country is in need of my druthers
A change in direction is needed my brothers
A nation devoted to the helping of others
In foreign lands, and down the street
When waters rise, when mountains fall
When earthquakes topple buildings tall, small, and inbetween
Or madmen fight for God or Queen
And victory has lost its sheen
And hate become the driving force
Maybe we can change that course,

Take the wheel, the artful deal with  Belial must be broken, each crime but a token for the ones left unspoken, each one a smokin gun that connects the dots to the have-gots who have lots, but have  naught for the have nots, the never had nothins,  but a glimmer of hope, dulled by dope, or working two jobs and barely coping with a life unseen ‘cept by you and me, the police, coroners and EMT’s.

We gotta take the cities back, at least we gotta try, give the kids a reason to live instead of getting high. The only rides out of the ghetto now are hearses and police vans, that splash water on your mama on your way to meet the Man, who judges you the best that he possibly can, but he will never understand how his system creates a type of man like no other, who called five different men his father before he was even ten, then he no longer bothered. His Mama sees him now and again, with thugs on the corner gathered. Lost souls, seeking treats from their Daddy, the street. He offers no work, no haven, no freedom.

However, he’s there, going somewhere, yet never will he leave them.

Thats the standard we have to beat? How hard can it be to beat the Street?

Work that street, fill it full of marching feet, belonging to teachers, doctors, and good policemen, who live on the block and know who they’re meeting as they walk their beat.

Look at the players on one knee, bringing attention to these streets. We get it Homes, take a bow, but kneeling wont help anyhow, so rise up now, all the pleading wont stop the cops from their shooting of young men seen as looting and causing unrest, blacks shopping in stores are seen as a menace. And the cops want to go home, too!

There aren’t any easy answers, but we have to try. Doing nothing is the biggest crime, we cant let our cities die, peace out


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)


Oh Hell no, oh my my
Why did Tom Petty have to die?
He only got better as time went by
Why did Tom Petty have to die?
No last chance to dance to him,
The stage is empty, the lights have dimmed
A black cat moaned, an Angel sighed,
A lot of us cried when Tom Petty died
God damn it, no! it cant be so
We werent ready for you to go
Your songs defined our Southern lives
With lyrics as sharp as granddad’s knife
And melodies we understood
Rhythms of southern neighborhoods
Your songs were all about our friends
And falling in and out of love again
Anger, hate, love and pain
All come to life in your refrains,
Songs about hurting and making amends
Songs about lovers running away
Or making a stand,, and deciding to stay
Bye bye oh farewell,
Tom will have no more tales to tell


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.