Thoughts on the Blizzard of Awes

Here I sit, imprisoned in a four-bedroom 2.5-bath split-level cell. My warden is two feet of water vapor frozen into ice crystals. Street name: snow.

I feel a common bond with the pioneering ranchers out West who suffered through paralyzing winter storms. They probably didn’t even have cable and I bet the wifi was spotty. Just the thought of what they endured makes me shiver.

Crank thermostat up to 75 degrees. Stop shivering.

No mail delivery today. Miss the routine of discarding junk mail and bringing misdelivered mail to neighbors.

Heard that gangs of Minnesota expatriates are roaming the streets downtown, ridiculing the locals about our snow response. Damn Gophers. We don’t make fun of their state fair love affair with fried foods on a stick!

Well, looks like the stupid paperboy isn’t going to deliver the paper. And when did the paperboy turn into a 45-year-old driving a 2003 Bonneville?
Guess I could try to get news from the internet. Must be something on there besides poker and porn sites.

The last designer cupcake disappeared! Family members eyeing each other with suspicion. Think I smell icing on wife’s breath.

The Patriots lost. I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day.

Shrink is stranded at airport. Won’t do a phone session, claims his battery is dying. Probably just as well. Can’t really talk about my relationship with Zoey while the wife’s around.

Situation getting more desperate. Down to our last baguette.

Bottled water being rationed, may have to go full tap. #shudder

Just called Reverend Anne to see if she could put a word in with the Almighty to get my street dug out, you know, maybe turn swords into plows like it says in the Bible. She said the Lord works in mysterious ways, but that was not one of them. She also suggested I turn off my iPhone and pay attention during services.

Dammit, where are those plows? Called some high school kids who said they can’t shovel my walk and driveway uNeil the street’s plowed. I can’t believe how spoiled that generation is. When I was in high school my father hired my friends to dig us out. Personal responsibility, that’s what we had.

Keeping the key to the liquor cabinet in my possession at all time.

Thank God we haven’t lost power. It takes that old generator two minutes to get the juice flowing again. It could damage the latte maker.

Bird feeders are empty, can’t get to store for more seed. Kids want to share our last baguette with the birds. I told them that’s crazy talk. #birdbrains

After making that large contribution to the mayor’s campaign you’d think he’d make sure I was plowed out before the others. Can’t trust those politicians. Next time I’m getting something in writing, lawyers be damned.

I hear grinding and crunching sounds. Either my son is playing Grand Theft Auto without his headphones or the plows finally have arrived.

I wonder if Zoey has been plowed?

Jeffsicle at the Movies

Welcome to Jeffsicle’s roundup of movies from the 2015 holiday season, viewed in an alternative universe multiplex thought to be near Manhattan, KS.

The Chip Monks Movie: Animated crime-fighting monks who live in a hollow tree and display powers invested in them by an embedded computer chip…and God. Featuring the voice of Bill Murray as Brother Alvin.

Broom: A remarkable and touching exploration of the deep love a maid feels for the tools of her trade.

Stare Wars: The First Order and the Resistance face off in a galactic drum line competition, where attitude is as important as rhythm and light saber technique. Who will flinch first? Can Luke keep the beat with a robotic hand? Will the power of the Force be sufficient to overcome the First Order’s superior discipline and monochrome uniforms? Will the Resistance trust a girl named Rey on the line even if Monopoly doesn’t?

Carob: Two women from opposite sides of the tracks have a life-affirming encounter across the soda fountain at the Varsity Drug Store in 1950s Manhattan, KS. Very evocative of mid-century Midwest Middle America.

Credo: Documentary on whether evolution or creationism is responsible for the Republican Party’s credo that values guns, embryos, and the very very rich above all else. Preceded by the animated short, “It’s Not a Lie If You Say It Repeatedly with Conviction” narrated by Carly Fiorina.

Daddy’s Comb: A family man is depressed over growing bald when he finds hairs in his comb, in the sink, in the tub, in his food. To confirm his virility he has an affair with the widow next door (she’d been married seven times before). When his wife discovers his hairs all over the widow’s house, hilarity ensues…as does murder when the wife shoves her husband’s comb down his throat. Rated FV for Follicular Violence.

The Bad Dinosaur: A young dinosaur becomes an outcast when he refuses to die for the sake of fossil fuel creation millions of years in the future. The audience must decide if he is the Ghandi of dinosaurs or a pothole on the road to American Exceptionalism.

The Hateful Eleven: Ten tough men and one nasty trash-talking woman band together to form the meanest, dirtiest football team ever. When they hit the field the expletives and bone-breaking tackles never cease, even during timeouts. Referees who interfere are hung from a goalpost. Stay for the credits when an eminent psychiatrist examines whether the violence stems from too much nature or too little nurture.

Animalisa: A man struggles with his inability to connect with animals in Manhattan, KS. Features actors playing wooden puppets, including Keanu Reeves and Kristen Stewart.

Titters: Two sisters go to Hollywood in the 1950s where they spend most of their days (and nights) on the casting couch but never appear in a movie. They leave Tinseltown dejected and ultimately return to their hometown of Manhattan, KS to work at the Varsity Drug Store.

Trump Oh!: A documentary showing peoples’ reactions when they are exposed to comments made by Donald Trump during the primaries. The close-up expressions make the movie! Includes historical footage of George Wallace and Spanish migrants in Morrocco. Special guest appearance by Ted Cruz. Rated NSFA (Not Safe for America).

Sportlight: Investigative reporters explore allegations of abuse against the English language by football announcers, particularly the color commentators. Warning: theaters have reported adverse effects on English teachers and subscribers to The New Yorker.

Brooklynn: A young Irish Immigrant navigates her way through 1950s New York City on her way to Manhattan, KS. But her bliss is threatened when she must choose between the two Manhattans.

In the Fart of the Sea: In this beautifully filmed movie, scientists discover that bubbles erupting from the ocean are caused by fish flatulence. Presented in select theaters in Smell-O-Vision™.

The Penis Movie: A beloved but deeply confused round-headed boy gets aroused whenever he’s near a certain red-haired girl. Animated, voiced by Mark Wahlberg and Julianne Moore.

Concession: A dramatic look at the physical and mental costs to a candidate—from relief to depression to somewhere in-between—when he or she concedes defeat. Includes video archival footage of famous concession speeches from the likes of Richard Nixon, Henry Clay, and David Norris

Hung Games: Jeffsicle does not review porn. He has some standards!

The Danish Grrl: A wife helps her spouse become a woman, with attitude.

The Big Shorts: The history of how basketball uniform shorts went from tight and skimpy (think Miley Cyrus) to long and baggy. Stars Michael B. Jordan as Michael J. Jordan and Dr. John as Dr. J.

Sphincter: James Bond is scared shitless while battling a sinister acronym in Manhattan, KS.

Chi-ran: The women in a major American city obtain a nuclear device and threaten to destroy ESPN unless their husbands and boy friends start treating them with respect. Special appearance by Aretha Franklin singing You Better Make Me Feel Like a Natural Women or There Be Hell to Pay, You Hear What I’m Saying Asshole?

Midnight Deliveries of Paul Revere

Paul Revere played a significant role in the American Revolution but is best known because of the Longfellow poem The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere. You remember: “Listen my children and you shall hear…” and “one if by land and two if by sea and I on the opposite shore shall be.” (Which is about all of the poem that 99.99% of Americans can recall.)

As with much of the history we’ve been taught in school, Revere’s ride has been exaggerated and manipulated to make it better fit the official narrative. Much like Madonna’s career.

Midnight Ride was written originally by the poet Clarence Trebuchet, of the Lexington Trebuchets. Some historians believe him to be the man in the window in the illustration above. Many decades later Longfellow was given the task of making his poem more appropriately inspirational.

To celebrate Revere’s December 21st birthday, Jeffsicle is proud to present the original Trebuchet version of The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere.

🐴✨✨

Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight deliveries of Paul Revere,
The British were coming, the hamlet was hungry
Just one man and one horse had the vision to see,
That both crises could be resolved conflict-free
By Paul’s nighttime job at Lotus Key Chinese

He said to his friend, “Wonton if by land, Tofu if by sea,
and I on the carryout line will be.
Ready to order and spread the Hoisin
Through every Mooshu pancake therein
For the country folks who need Szechuan.

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
Saddlebags in the moonlight, filled with Crispy Beef,
It arrived from the forests, as if by luck,
And then, at the next house, came Peking Duck;
That’s not all! Along with the Sweet and Sour Pork,
A nation’s fate had Chow Foon on its fork;
And the spark struck out by that steed’s Steamed Dumplings,
Kindled the land into flame with Five Spices.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;
The whispers of General Tso in his ear,
To Middlesex kitchens goes chicken Lo Mein,
A cry of “food’s here,” and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And the words “cash or credit?” echo evermore!

For, borne on the carry-out of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of hunger and gastric distress,
The people wait up for Shrimp with Asparagus,
The fragrant aromas brought by that steed,
And the midnight deliveries of Paul Revere.

Reindeer Games

(Santa). Thank you for coming to this meeting. Christmas is approaching and there’s some news we need to discuss.

(Dasher): Wait, where’s Rudolph?

I’ll talk about Rudolph’s absence later. What I want to discuss is the exponential increase in deliveries we’ve had to make in recent years.

(Prancer) Boooooring.

Believe me, Prancer, you’ll soon find it very interesting. As you all know, our resources are strained to the point where I could not guarantee we’d meet our goal of no child’s gift left behind. A child’s belief in me is a terrible thing to waste, you know.

(All): We know!

Months ago I hired a management consulting team to assess our operations. Mrs. Claus and I reviewed their recommendations carefully with our lawyers. As a result, this morning I signed an agreement giving Amazon a 20% stake in Santa LLC with an option to increase that to 40%.

(Vixen): That’s great! Finally, some help. We’re not getting any younger you know. Of course, we’re also not getting any older.

(Blitzen): can we go now? I’m late for my antler waxing.

Prancer, Donner, Vixen, and Blitzen…. You can leave. You’re fired.

(All): Wait. What?

Fired. Retired. Put out to pasture. Downsized. Riffed. Bye-bye.

(Prancer): “I fart in your general direction! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!”

You know, guys, 200+ years is a good run, but reindeer teams come, reindeer teams go. It’s a Circle of Life thing.

(Blitzen): Hey Santa Trump! How did you pick who to fire?

Prancer, too much clatter.
Dancer, getting fatter.
Vixen, shrinking bladder.
Blitzen, mad as a hatter.

(Dancer): How are we going to support our families? I have a mortgage on that cabin in Saskatchewan and two calves in private school and a fawn with perpetual ear infections. As it is, my wife has to take modeling jobs for Christmas catalogs to make ends meet.

(Cupid): Don’t forget that doe you see on the side in Greenland. She won’t like it when the baubles start coming from Walmart!

Everyone calm down! I’m very sorry but business is business. Even a nonprofit one. However, we’re not just sending you out in the cold,. Well, actually we are since we’re at the North Pole, but we do have a severance package for each of you, including free Amazon Prime for five years plus an annual $200 gift card.

(Dancer): What about health insurance.

I almost forgot, Denmark agreed to provide you with health care. We tried to get you on Obamacare, but Republicans in Congress said you were undocumented aliens and nixed that legislation.

(Blitzen): You’re joking, right? What about Clement Moore? Burl Ives? Stan Freberg? They’ll all vouch for us.

All dead, I’m afraid. And so, by the way, is Rudolph.

(All): What!?

Very sad. A drone accident over the Bering Straits. The body is available for viewing in the Palin’s meat locker.

(Blitzen): At least he won’t have to “fly like the down of a thistle” anymore. Damn that’s embarrassing.

You are welcome to help out in the workshop through the end of the year. At the Elf pay grade, of course. And if you play nicely with the Elves, I’ll recommend you for a delivery job at Keebler.

(Vixen): No way I’m working with those Ed Asner clones.

(Donner): What I don’t understand is what Amazon gets from all this?

Access to our database of what the children want for Christmas so they can better sell to parents and grandparents. It’s the ultimate in targeted marketing.

(Donner): And what about the Naughty and Nice database?

I resume negotiations with Homeland Security on December 26.

Bloom County Lives! THBBFT!

“Come and listen to a story about a cat named Bill,
“A penguin named Opus, a county full of thrills,
“They’d been out smelling dandelions, wand’ring aimlessly,
“‘Til a man with a mustache came to set them free.

“Well the next thing we knew Bloom County was exhumed,
“A comic strip he killed after Reagan’s years of doom,
“His fans, now grown up, overweight with graying hair,
“Forgot for a time that Jon Stewart left the air.

“Now fathers and granddads are pulling out their gear,
“Opus dolls, Bill t-shirts, calendars from past years,
“Their kids are in the basement, trembling with fear,
“‘Why is papa acting like an aging Mouseketeer?'”

(Cue Deathtöngue for the banjo solo.)

Rare are the things come back after extended absences. Vinyl records, crock pots, Cher.

For the young and/or uninitiated, Bloom County was a comic strip by Berkeley Breathed than ran in newspapers during the 1980s. It mixed humans and animals (some burdened by the frailties of life and some simply batshit) in a melting pot of crazy. The Pulitzer Prize-winning strip’s numerous strange forays into politics helped many of us survive the Reagan years with our sanity (mostly) intact. (Who can forget Bill’s ill-fated love affair with U.N. Ambassador Jeane Kirkpatrick?)

A good summary of the many characters and storylines Breathed molded into Bloom County is available online. Among the more distinguished citizens are:

Opus is a penguin who is shy, innocent, homesick and misses his mother, a fall guy who has body image issues, awkward with the ladies, and unable to resist telemarketers. He often loses his mind, nose, and butt.
Bill the Cat, in addition to his tryst with Kirkpatrick, has lived the life of a rock star–everything in excess, no scruples, horny as hell. He has died and returned to the living. Perhaps more than once. He has run for President twice. And his body has been occupied by the brain of Donald Trump (more on that below). Unlike the other animal characters, his vocabulary is rather limited. Thbbft!
Milo Bloom lives with many of the county’s lunatic fringe in the boarding house run by his relatives. He is often the instigator or fulcrum around which the craziness revolves…kind of like Ray Romano in “Everyone Loves Raymond” but funny. Among his many roles are muckraking reporter and clickbait-style headline writer of the Bloom Picayune newspaper.
Binkley, Milo’s friend, is still torturing his single father with his concerns about life and celebrities. He foreshadowed cable news but was unable to cash in. Binkley also is tortured by the unusual contents anxiety closet.
Steve Dallas is an unethical lawyer and ladies man (who the ladies don’t particularly want) who was as un-PC as they come. Until an alien flipped him to someone as PC as Alan Alda. He’s lost the PC for 2015.
Cutter John is a disabled veteran whose wheelchair (originally named the Star Trek Enterpoop) took the gang on wondrous, often education adventures, such as a trip to the Wild Loud Planet of Lusty Women Commodity Brokers. For 2015 the wheelchair has been updated to the Star Wars Aluminium Falcon.
Oliver Wendell Jones is an extraordinary hacker and scientist who attends school with Milo and Binkley. He can do things with a computer that would make Chinese hackers bow in awe.

Breathed said Donald Trump’s presidential quest provided the impetus to revive Bloom County. Trump was often the object of ridicule in the 80’s strip. He was not amused by Breathed’s barbs then, and it’s doubtful The Donald will feel any different about the new strips. Near the conclusion of the original run, after Trump’s brain ends up transplanted into Bill the Cat’s body, and the strip ends with Trump buying Bloom County, renaming it after himself (duh), and firing everyone.

And then there’s one of my all-time favorites from the original strip.

You can find Bloom County 2015 at GoComics and Berkeley Breathed’s Facebook page. The original strip is also at GoComics. And be sure to visit the Bloom County store on your way out.

Sew What?

It was early in my marriage when I asked Wifesicle if she would fix a split seam in my pants. She smiled, said “of course” and left to get her sewing kit. (Back in those unenlightened days I had simply assumed all women were issued a kit when they turned 12 and had genetic knowledge of its many uses.)

As I contemplated how fortunate it was that at least one of us could sew, she returned holding my pants in one hand and a stapler in the other.

“I suggest protective underwear when you wear these pants,” she said lovingly.

It was at that moment I discovered that the fine art of sewing did not exist…at all…in our new family.

I had only a thimbleful of previous confrontations with sewing.

In college, bereft of a girlfriend (well, any friend), I tried to sew a button on a shirt. After losing several ounces of blood I finally attached the button. I admired my handiwork for eight seconds, the amount of time it took the button to fall to the floor and roll under the radiator, never to be seen again.

Another time was when I helped my sister remove her sewing machine from the trunk of my car and pulled a back muscle. At that moment I retired from competitive sewing. (Unfortunately, by the time I married, my sister had traded her sewing machine for a case of cheap wine.)

But sewing reared its ugly head years later when Girlsicle joined the Brownies and we realized there was no Hogwarts spell that would attach to her sash all those merit badges she was expected to earn. We suggested strongly to her that while earning merit badges was good, displaying them on the sash was akin to worshipping heathen idols. Oddly enough, this appealed to her.

Next we tried to bribe her, but gave up when she hired Scott Boros to negotiate the terms, including seeking free agency at age 15.

So there she went, earning badges for such skills as grilling cheese sandwiches with an iron and learning how to pee in the woods while keeping her socks dry (my memory may be hazy on the details). To our dismay, she neither tried for nor earned a badge for sewing. We blamed “The Real Housewives” reality shows, because, why not?

We did try glue, but that never lasted for more than one campfire. And double-sided tape may have held Jennifer Lopez and her Grammy’s dress together, but it didn’t have the longevity for our purposes.

Once I thought that sewing was rather like touch typing (now known by the PC word “keyboarding”) or riding a bike. It looks impossible until you learn how to do it. I have studied a sewing machine for minutes, however, and cannot figure out how it can push thread in one side of the fabric and pull it back from the other side without ripping the garment to shreds. It defies the laws of nature and is likely related to witchcraft. I avoid witchcraft as a general rule unless it comes with fries.

As a young man about town I could play helpless and ask a kind-looking woman to mend rips or attach buttons. Now when I ask a woman if she will mend my ripped crotch, she threatens to call the police and walks quickly away, giving me a mean over-the-shoulder scowl. People are just so selfish these days.

So that leaves me with three choices.

Go to a professional, which these days means a visit to the dry cleaner. Somehow I find it unrealistic that the same people who rend my shirts can somehow mend them.
Make a serious attempt to learn how to sew. (File that under “old dogs and new tricks.”)
Ditch the damaged goods and buy a replacement. It’s easy on the nerves, good for the world economy (“cloth made in Honduras, assembled in Guatemala, inspected in China, and sold at Walmart”), and, most important, it saves wear and tear on the stapler.

©2015 Jeffsicle. Feel free to share with friends. Sign up at Jeffsicle.wordpress.com or follow the adventures of Jeffsicle on Facebook at www.facebook.com/jeffsicleblog or on Twitter at @Jeffsicle. “As God is my witness, I’ll never go a month between posts again.” — Jeffsicle O’Hara.

Speak Loudly and Carry a Big Schtick

Donald Trump, his mouth, and his hair announced recently that he was running for President. For once his hair had the better day.

Trump Piñata

Having gladly played to the GOP base as a mouthpiece for unsupported allegations about President Obama’s birth, religion, ideology, Benghazi…basically, the full GOP playbook…Phineas T. Bluster didn’t hesitate to bring the full force of his intellect down on everything Mexican during his nomination announcement. As you’ve read, things didn’t go well in this country or south of the border. (Have you seen the Trump Piñata?)

Jeffsicle was particularly intrigued by Turd Ferguson informing the Hispanic network Univision that its executives would no longer be welcome at Trump golf courses.

This appears to be a trial balloon for how Hugo Z. Hackenbush would threaten rogue nations and terrorists…part of his policy to Speak Loudly and Carry a Big Schtick. He believes the threat of no access to Trump golf courses, hotels, casinos, fashions, and other Trump-branded offerings could prove a powerful diplomatic weapon.

Jeffsicle decided to poll the other 20-odd (some very) candidates to see how they might bring pressure to bear on our enemies. (I’ve thrown in a ringer to see if you’re paying attention.)

Jeb Bush. “Don’t think I won’t conjure up a reason to attacking a country. It’s in my DNA. Plus, I have Dick Cheney’s and Don Rumsfeld’s private phone numbers on speed dial. Shock and Awe, my friend, Shock and Awe.”

Ben Carson. “I’ll drop behind enemy lines with the Navy Seals and perform brain surgery on their leaders so they think they’re damn hippies. See how well ‘peace, love, Woodstock’ works as a rallying cry for military action.”

Lincoln Chaffee. If you were a dictator, would you respond to better to pressure from someone named Jeb-Ted-Mike-John-Bobby-George-Rick, or someone named Lincoln offering charity for all and malice towards scum?”

Chris Christie. “I’ll air-lift cars to rogue nations to block their bridges. It’s my signature tactic that works like a charm. The cars will only be American-made so that our economy also benefits. And to really rub it in, we won’t inform them of any recall notices on those models.”

Hillary Clinton. “Since almost everybody who is anybody is a Clinton Global Initiatives donor, those who threaten our nation will NOT receive a hand-signed photo of them and Bill from the most recent CGI event they attended. They can also forget about receiving my home-made Christmas cookies (outsourced to Honduras as part of NAFTA). Plus any messages they send to my private non-government email will go right to spam.”

Ted Cruz. “I am the great and powerful Cruz. I am smarter than the average bear and twice as nasty. Anyone who screws around with us will be filibustered until they cry Uncle Sam.”

Carly Fiorina. “Any of the tens of thousands of former Hewlett-Packard employees I fired as CEO who are still out of work will be deployed in return for health insurance and 401k contributions. After all these years they are lean, mean, hungry and mad men and women who need to take their frustrations out on someone other than me.”

Lindsey Graham. “I’m not going to sit by and kiss some foreigner’s ass like some peace-loving gay person who shouldn’t be married. We’re the United States and we lick ass. I mean kick ass! (Damn, someone get Obama’s TelePrompTer out of storage.)”

Mike Huckabee. “When our so-called ‘Supreme’ Court favored gay marriage I vowed never to ‘acquiesce to an imperial court.’ So you can be damn sure I won’t acquiesce to any so-called ‘International’ Court or any so-called ‘Rules’ of War much less the ‘United’ Nations. I’ll just tell them to bend over and take it like a prisoner. Put simply, Don’t Fuck with the Huck.”

Bobby Jindal. “It is a war – a silent war – against religious liberty. This war is waged in our courts and in the halls of political power. It is pursued with grim and relentless determination by a group of like-minded elites, determined to transform the country from a land sustained by faith – into a land where faith is silenced, privatized, and circumscribed. Wait, what was the question?”

Ezekiel 25:17 Pulp Fiction

John Kasich. “Bible stories are historical facts. So I will quote to them from Ezekiel 25:17…’I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers.'”

John Lennon. ‘Nothing you can make that can’t be made. No one you can save that can’t be saved. Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be you in time. It’s easy…. All you need is love, love, love is all you need.”

Martin O’Malley. “Mess with us and watch what I do to their tax rates!”

George Pataki. “As we say in New York, ‘No soup for you!’”

Rand Paul. “I’d order my father Ron, who will head my Administration’s new Federal Department of Conspiracies, to carpet bomb them with lies, untruths, blood-libels, conspiracy theories, plots, false flags, and stereotypes.”

Rick Perry. “Never mess with someone from Texas. We have more firepower in one state than most nations have in their entire arsenal. And if we’re not afraid to use it against our fellow citizens, well, just don’t mess with us. Or else. P.S. Don’t let the glasses fool you. They’re just for show. I’m no myopic liberal.”

Marco Rubio. “God is an American. Before there was an America He wasn’t any nationality. Certainly not French. Or Mexican. In fact God created America so that He could have a nationality on Earth. He is peaceful and benevolent unless someone crosses His nation, in which case He will return that sorry-ass country to the time when dinosaurs and man roamed the land together.”

Bernie Sanders. “I’m a capital-S Socialist in a country that uses that word as a pejorative. No telling what kind of small-s shit I might pull.”

Rick Santorum. “I once said that ‘moms raising children in single-parent households (are) simply breeding more criminals.’ I will attack a country and when it sends all its men to fight, the single moms left behind will breed criminals who will destabilize the country by looting convenience stores, texting while in church, and panhandling at red lights.”

Scott Walker. “When I was governor I worked hard to wreck my state’s schools, colleges, unions, environment, and anything else Mr. Koch requested. If I’d do that to my constituents, think what I would do to someone else’s country!”

Jim Webb. “In my younger days I had this ponytailed hippie by the hair, beating his head on the sidewalk when he suddenly went limp. So I revived him and he started to kick me in the head about 10 times till I was able to grab his leg. What I learned from this and what our enemies should know about me is: Show no mercy in a fight. ‘Nuff said.”

More Jeffsicle on the 2016 campaign can be found at:

Spelunking the Nomination

An Out-of-This-Galaxy Ticket for ’16

And If Elected…

Spelunking the Nomination

While many new GOP contenders have tossed their American Flag pins into the ring for 2016, many others are considering a bid to be the one who tames Putin, Kim Jung-on, and the liberal media. Here is an update on who is still out there and why they think they are qualified. (Meanwhile, Jeffsicle’s presidential exploratory committee is currently exploring the cool breezes of the Maine seashore.)

Director Michael Bay. “A lot of directors don’t want the pressure of a movie the size of Pearl Harbor. But I love it. I thrive on it. And I’ll thrive on the pressure of The White House. I will Transform into a great President, saving the nation from Armageddon. I am The Rock. And I will crush those Teen-age Mutant NoBalls Democrats!”

George W. Bush. “I keep reading on Facebook how Obama is plotting to subvert the Constitution to run for third term, so I figured I may as well get in on the action. Besides, if Herbert Cain could run in 2012 to flog his book, I can run to sell my paintings.”

Former VP Dick Cheney. “I wasn’t the President but I played one in Washington. It’s time to do it for real.”

Former Reality Star Josh Duggar. “I’ll jump in after the 18th candidate announces so I can be 19 Candidates and Counting. Plus I need a job. And maybe a lawyer, and I hear the President gets one for free. I also hear that ‘what happens at Camp David stays at Camp David.’”

Caitlyn Jenner. “Carly Fiorina, there are now two of us girls in this race who can take on Hillary woman to woman. The difference, though, is that you sucked at running HP, while I was involved in creating a very successful television empire and I helped raise a family of very successful entrepreneurs. How many people can you draw to a campaign rally? Do you have any notion of the throngs that would turn out to see me speak? I mean, hear me speak? And you say the GOP needs a new definition of feminist? You’re looking at her, baby!”

Madonna. “It seems there’s a lot of repressed sexuality among Republicans. That’s my kind of challenge. I’ve reinvented myself so often, Republican is one of the few things I haven’t tried.”

Reactionary Rocker Ted Nugent. “My idol, and the idol of all real Americans, is General George S. Patton. During WWII he said he would go through the enemy ‘like crap through a goose.’ My friends, believe me when I say that I am that crap and the Democrats are the goose.”

Reality Star Bristol Palin. “Radical liberals in media who have total control over public narratives say I’m too young to run based on the Constitution. I am here to tell you the founding fathers who received the Constitution from God never intended to keep a Palin from fulfilling her manifest destiny.”

Reality Star Sarah Palin. “Those haters out there, they don’t understand that it invigorates me, it wants me to get out there and defend the innocent. It makes me want to work so hard for justice in this country. So, hey the more they’re pouring on the more I’m going to bug the crap out of them by being out there with a voice, with the message, hopefully running for office in the future, too.” (Actual quote.) “Plus I’m an attention whore.” (Possibly not an actual quote.)

Retired Adult Film Star Faye Reagan. “All I hear from the other candidates is Reagan This and Reagan That. So I figured an actual Reagan might be a welcome addition. We actually have some things in common. We oppose government regulation and we both made movies. Of course, mine are still actively viewed by millions and will be for decades. I mean really, would you rather watch the Voice of the Turtle or Torrid Tales of Naked Bondage? One other thing: in this age of transparency, I literally have nothing to hide.”

Duck Dynasty’s Phil Robertson. “There’s a lot of shit wrong with this country, but the real problem is that we haven’t had a beard in the White House since William Howard Taft and haven’t had a really good one since Benjamin Harrison. It’s time for a change.”

Comedian Amy Schumer. “I’m like 160 pounds right now, and not only can I catch a dick whenever I want, I also can catch a Rick, a Jeb, a Scott, a Ben, a Ted, a Rand, a George (do they all have one-syllable names?) and that’s the truth. Hell, I can catch a Carly if I’m in the right frame of mind.”

Arnold Schwarzenegger. “I may have made most of my money doing action films where I grunt and sweat, but I’ve always had a soft spot for playing-against-type in lighter fare like Kindergarten Cop. And believe me, there’s no comedy bigger than the GOP nomination process.”

Conspiracy Advocate Donald Trump. “Is there any doubt I will run? I’m a triple threat: real estate mogul, reality star, serial trophy wife owner, and the biggest burr in Barack Hussein Obama’s ass. But that’s not the main reason to pick me. I’M TOO BIG TO FAIL. (Not Chris Christie big. Trump Towers big.) If I ever had the problems our Kenyan President has had—Benghazi, falsified birth records, Putin, failed policies, golf—I would overcome them because I’M TOO BIG TO FAIL. Even when I was on the verge of bankruptcy, I was bailed out by my creditors. And the same would happen if I am President.”

Florida Man’s George Zimmerman. “I could use the Secret Service protection.”

Facebook’s Mark Zuckerberg. “I know with whom you’re sleeping. I know which drugs you take, I know where you play, shop and eat, so ‘like/vote’ me before it’s too late.”

Honey Boo-Boo’s Mama June. Sorry, Jeffsicle is not going there. We have standards, microscopic though they are.

More Jeffsicle on the 2016 campaign can be found at:

An Out-of-This-Galaxy Ticket for ’16

And If Elected…

Songs in the Key of Gee

They say you should write about what you know. While that never stopped Jeffsicle, it’s probably not bad advice for others. Case in point is the professional dogwalker who composed songs about picking up poop.

Here is an excerpt from one he calls “Pick Up the Poop Oh Yeah” (Available on iTunes. Really.)

Please don’t leave it on the ground
Do the right thing, clean up after your hound
You made a choice to get a dog
It’s up to you to pick up their logs
Pick up the poop, pick up the poop oh yeah.

Leaving aside the dexcision to rhyme “dog” and “logs,” this is an admirable undertaking of what might be called “Citizen Songwriting,” channeling a simpler time when songs were based on personal interaction with such elements as mastodons and black obelisks.

Jeffsicle has missed most trends, from pet rocks to love locks, so he’s catching this one before the bus departs.

Cone-O
Hey Mr. Ice Cream Man scoop me some vanilla
Summer come and me want to be cold
Chocolate dreamy and me love strawberry
Summer come and me want to be cold

Oreo ice cream is cool and sweet
Ice cream is best when it’s not too bold
Chocolate chip cookie dough me want to eat
Cake or wafer cone, me want to hold

Pistachio is just not for me
Don’t like nuts or anything green
Rum raisin makes me want to heave
So do caramel and tutti-frutti

Cone, cone cone cone cone cone cone cone cone cone cone cone cone
Summer comes and me want a cold cone.

Bohemian Veggies

Mama, just sowed some squash
Put some seeds into the ground
Too much water and they’ll drown
Mama, lunch has just begun
But all the plants have died and turned to brown
Mama, ooh
I don’t want to eat store-bought
If I can’t get fresh veggies then I’ll starve
Harvest on, harvest on, because pesticides do matter.

Blizzard Street

Cannot play, can’t shovel the snow away
Ice has formed now that the wind chill’s steep
Can you tell me how my dog, how my dog is going to pee?
Snow’s too deep, I’d much rather eat and sleep
Gonna have to shovel soon
And just pray my dog can hold it in until this afternoon.

Spam

Some call it spam
Some call it junk
I have a different take
‘Cause I think it’s all punk
Earring in the header
Nipple ring attachment
Tattoos in the subject line
Erectiles in the text

Rachel Robocall

You call me every day and night
Say your name is Rachel, yeh that’s right
Cardholder Services you say you’re from
Do you think I’m really that dumb?
You say there are benefits for me
If my finger pushes button three
But I’m afraid that something bad
Will make my savings very sad.

Toast Is Splendor

Toast is a very crumbly treat
Whether made of wheat or rye or white it’s a gluten feast
Great toast boasts such a perfect tan
Like Jennifer behind her Ray-Bans
I can’t choose between butter or SPF30.

Rita’s Meters

Lovely Rita’s meters raid
Hundreds of cops responding
Ticketing cars for parking way too long
I ask her really, what’s the hurry
Rita says, you’ll tell the jury
‘Cause I don’t take any crap from scum like you.

Butts

The world was once littered with butts
From cigarettes left in the street
Now the world is drowning in butts
The ones found between head and feet
“Shake Your Booty” and “Bubble Butt”
Are acceptable words to say
Would Kim and Kanye be together now
If thin butts ruled the waves?

Steaming Gwyneth’s Hoo-Ha (NSFW)

I do not have a vagina. Never had the need for my own. I don’t recall having said or written “vagina” in public before now.

Obviously I am not Gwyneth Paltrow.

Reader’s Digest had a long-running series of “first-person” articles discussing body parts, such as “I Am Joe’s Stomach.” They didn’t publish “I Am Gwyneth’s Vagina.” But other publications are taking up the slack.

I am pretty neutral when it comes to Gwyneth. Neither hater nor celebrant. I do like her acting better than her goop web site. (Full disclosure: I have long had a crush on her mother, actress Blythe Danner.)

It is on goop that Gwyneth and her acolytes seem to make her vaginal pronouncements. If you are unfamiliar with goop, it proclaims “we hope goop is an indispensable resource for all who love to make, go, get, do, be and see.” Goop believes in the healing power of the verb.

(At Jeffsicle, we hope you get a good parking space and really cold beer.)

It seems there is a cottage industry in vaginas. In “researching” this post I was directed by the Google to the Cosmo web site where I found “17 Vaginas that Absolutely Owned 2014.” It was quite…enlightening. (I am not going to link to it. I’m already halfway to hell just for reading it.) I am now keeping a running list of those vaginas that, in my estimation, own 2015, so I can compare my picks to the next Cosmo list. If I do well I might turn pro.

I also found many articles all over the web along the lines “10 Things You Probably Didn’t Know About Vaginas.” Ten? These must be aimed at women, as the things men don’t know about vaginas could fill several vagibytes of storage.

And speaking of bites, did you know that vaginas share properties with sharks? Or that the world record for weight lifting using only a vagina is 31 pounds? (NBC wants to make it an Olympic event.)

Back to Gwyneth and what brought me to this topic in the first place: vaginal steam cleaning. Also known, apparently, as vaginal detox and vaginal facial (oxymoron, anyone?).

(I admit that what really got my attention was a misreading of the article’s headline. I thought it was on Gwyneth’s vaginal streaming. That’s a reality show I might actually watch.)

So I found out vagina steaming involves, basically, sitting in a chair with a hole in the seat and being misted by a hot pot of herbs placed under the hole.

Ouch, anyone?

Gwyneth has her steaming done at a Korean spa in LA. The kind of place where you think nothing of going to the receptionist and saying, “I’d like to do my nails, eyebrows, toes, and vagina.”

What does one tip for a vaginal steaming?

One more note. While perusing goop I found Gwyneth’s recipe for her sex bark aphrodisiac dessert. Clearly the perfect post-steaming treat. Unfortunately she was unable to make it during her week on a food stamp budget because one ingredient is Sex Dust at $60/four ounces.

At that price, if I want sex bark, I’ll wait until my dog goes into heat.

Jeffsicle

Icicle. Popsicle. Listicle. Jeffsicle.

Author: Jeffsicle

Thoughts on the Blizzard of Awes

Jeffsicle at the Movies

Midnight Deliveries of Paul Revere

Reindeer Games

Bloom County Lives! THBBFT!

Sew What?

Speak Loudly and Carry a Big Schtick

Spelunking the Nomination

Songs in the Key of Gee

Steaming Gwyneth’s Hoo-Ha (NSFW)