Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: sarah huckabee sanders (page 1 of 2)

Possible Replacements For Sarah Huckabee Sanders

  • Forest Whitaker and his Sloppy Eyeball.
  • Guy from Staten Island eating a chicken parm sandwich who keeps repeating, “Hey, I tol’ you what happened. You don’ wanna believe it? That’s yer fuckin’ problem.”
  • One of Jordan Peterson’s lobsters.
  • Fuck, let Barron do it.
  • Lindsay Lohan, three hours late and missing a shoe.
  • A sentient full English breakfast complete with incredibly racist beans.
  • Gerry Cooney, if he’s still alive.
  • Gerry Cooney’s corpse, if he’s not.
  • Mike Huckabee’s other ugly daughter, Farah Huckabee Sanders, whose nostrils are misaligned.
  • An angry dwarf with dildos glued all over him.
  • Sign hand-written by one of the Koch Brothers reading “Go fuck yourself.”
  • Joe Rogan. (“Politics bores me. Haberman, you ever try DMT?”)
  • Pile of used porn a teenager found in the woods.
  • Whoever Putin says should get the job.
  • Someone beloved who’s recently had a stroke, so they’re lying and slurring and it’s all so terribly sad.
  • Topiary trimmed and dyed to resemble a blue waffle. (Look it up. Look it up at work, or in front of your children.)
  • The one dark-blue cube in the ice tray.
  • Shuckey Duckey. (Quack quack.)

Two Offers

Is that a rando?

“Actually, no. This is Alec Benjamin, and he’s a new–”

PORK HIM.

“–talented…here we go.”

Climb on top and see if you can make it eight seconds. I think you can; he looks frail.

“He’s a very gifted–”

Make a fire, John. Rub your sticks together and make a fire.

“No.”

The sticks are your johnsons.

“I got that. It would not make fire.”

It would. Sticky fire.

“Ew.”

The field is fertile and new, man! Plow it! Make the ground shiver with your fecundity!

“I’m not gay, y’know.”

Well, you haven’t publicly finger-banged a starlet in years, dude.

“So? That doesn’t make me gay.”

It kinda does.

“You’re an idiot.”

You’re an idiot for not being watch-deep in that twink right now.

“Stop talking to me.”

Okay.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Fine. Fine. Better than you.”

“You’re on with John.”

“GETCHER JEW HANDS OFFA THAT THERE LAD!”

“Ah, shit.”

“It ain’t bad enough you’re a hebe, you gotta add sodomy to th’ mix?”

“Not gay.”

“No, you ain’t. Ain’t no such thing as ‘gay.’ There’s just swishy sinners.”

“Wow.”

“That comes from the Bible, boy. You read your Bible?”

“Not every day.”

“The Jew part is the worst part! Book don’t pick up until Jesus comes in. Not known for their writing, you Jews.”

“Not Jewish, Sarah. Not gay and not Jewish.”

“All homos are Jews, but not all Jews are homos.”

“Yeah, I kind of agree with that, but it’s still wildly inappropriate. Why are you even calling me?”

“You wanna be the new Chief of Staff?”

“Hard, hard, hard pass.”

“You can led a Jew to water, but you can’t make him clean.”

“Again: not…ah, fuck it.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“Hey.”

Yeah?

“Please make her stop calling me.”

Freedom of speech, brah.

Jewish, Star

Why are you wearing Jewish stars?

“I’m not. It’s just a pattern.”

Everything’s just a pattern until you slather some meaning on it. You’re all Jewishy.

“Nope.”

You’re Hora-dancing in a burning room.

“I am not.”

Play me some Klezmer music.

“Stop it. These are not Stars of David. It’s just a pattern.”

What about your shmata?

“It’s not a whatever-you-called-it. It’s a custom bandana.”

From Bandana Dan?

“No. His sister.”

Bandana Jan?

“Yeah.”

Sure.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“C’mon, man.”

You dressed yourself. You did this to yourself.

“Asshole.”

“You’re on with John.”

“Ah’ll eat your asshole with biscuits and gravy, boy. An’ not inna pervert way, you filthy Semite.”

“Hey, Sarah. Once again: I am not Jewish.”

“Then why you wearin’ all them Jew stars? You think you’re Sammy Davis or sumpin?”

“I do not think I’m–”

“You ain’t half the man Sammy Junior Davis was! Don’t you never pretend to be no Candyman! That’s an affront to our community!”

“Your community?”

“The sloppy eyeballed”

“Not a community.”

“Ah’ll throw Peter Falk’s corpse at you, boy.”

“Please stop calling me.”

“President Trump, Praise Be Unto Him, just signed an Executive Order makin’ you illegal.”

“Me?”

“You personally. You ain’t no person no more.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Ah can’t, but He can.”

“Are you capitalizing pronouns referring to the president now?”

“Ah am. He deserves that respect.”

“Hanging up the phone.”

“Shoulda been you in that synagogue, boy.”

“Stop calling me, you monster.”

“YOU AIN’T NO SAMMY JUNIOR DAVIS!”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“Is there any way to get those calls to stop?”

Vote.

“I hate you.”

Oh, you hate yourself.

A Partial Transcript Of The White House Press Briefing, 10/3/18

WHITE HOUSE BRIEFING ROOM – MORNING

“Y’all need to settle. I ain’t gonna tell you again. Zip it up back there or I’ll throw my sensible pumps right at your face. We got a lot t’ get through today, an’ they’re doin’ All-You-Can-Eat cheddar biscuits down by the Red Lobster again, so I’m outta here at three. By th’ latest. I’d prefer to’ve tucked in already, but you liars an’ prevaricators need all y’all’s asses wiped for you. So now Mama don’t get her cheddar biscuits. Thank you, Jews and Jew-tolerators.”

“Hey!”

“Acosta, I’ll pistol-whip you if you start with your nonsense today.”

“I’m sorry, Sarah, but ‘Jews and Jew-tolerators’ is unacceptable.”

“I never said that.”

“It was not even ten seconds ago.”

“Fake news.”

“Oh, it’s gonna be one of those press conferences.”

“I’m gonna continue helpin’ President Trump make America great, if you don’t mind. I have some announcements an’ then I have a prepared statement to read. First of all, NAFTA has been dissolved and replaced with a new deal called DONALD. All the details are the same, but the name is much stronger and the President responded very strongly to the name. We gonna issue a release on what the letters stand for real soon, too.

“Second: depending on well someone’s meeting with his lawyers go this afternoon, we may be at war with Iran real soon. Just a heads-up on that one. Watch this space.

“Third, we are aware of Kanye and his patriotism.

“Fourth, the President will be testing the Emergency Alert Service shortly. I will now read from a statement that I did not write.

“Ahem.

“When they attack the beautiful, wonderful Brett Kavanaugh, who went to Yale, the Democrats are attacking America and the flag. Some of the smartest people are from Yale. Penn is as good. Penn is as good, some would say better in some areas, but Yale is tops. These Democrats hate him because he respects families. No one, no one you’re ever gonna meet, respects families like Brett Kavanaugh.

“What they’re doing to this fine man’s reputation should be criminal. Chuck Schumer, Cryin’ Chuck, who is the lowest scumbag moneysucking weasel you’ve ever met, he begs for money like a dog, says that no matter what he hears, he’s voting ‘no.’ How is that not treason? The judge came out and he was so strong in his denials, and to say that? To say you’re voting ‘no’ no matter what? That might be treason.

“Ahem.

“John?”

“Sarah, three of the Senators necessary for Judge Kavanaugh’s confirmation have expressed disgust at the President’s imitation of Dr. Ford at his rally in Mississippi last night.”

“I would disagree with your characterization. President Trump don’t do no imitations. You thinkin’ ’bout Rich Little.”

“Rich Little? How old are you?”

“Huckabees are ageless. The President wasn’t doin’ no impression. What he was doin’ was statin’ the facts of the case in a clear an’ concise manner. He had t’ dumb it down a l’il bit; he was in Mississippi, after all. An’ so what he did was speak to the people in their language, which is why th’ Democrats wanna destroy him.”

“The President of the United mocked a woman accusing his Supreme Court nominee of attempted rape and you’re blaming it on the crowd?”

“I would also disagree with ‘mock.’ Like I said, he was statin’ facts.”

“But the things he said weren’t true.”

“Facts ain’t gotta be true to be facts.”

“They do.”

“Not no more. Blake?”

“Sarah, does the White House believe that the FBI has enough time to conduct a thorough background check on Judge Kavanaugh in the short time they’ve been given?”

“The FBI is the world’s preeminent investigative body, and they can do just ’bout anything.”

“Are you talking about the same FBI the President regularly accuses of bias, incompetence, and malfeasance?”

“I do not believe that President Trump ever used the word ‘malfeasance.’ April Ryan, you gonna ask a question right away, or you gotta kneel before?”

“You’re getting a beating before you leave this job, young lady.”

“You know where I am. Go ‘head with your question.”

“The New York Times is reporting a heavily-documented story about the shady deals and tax fraud engaged in by the Trump family during the 80’s and 90’s. The White House has issued a general denial, but can you tell me specifically what was wrong with the article?”

“First off, it was too dang long. Need a nap halfway through. Real snoozer.”

“Anything else?”

“The Times article was characteristic of the sad decline of a once-great newspaper. Now all they do is lie. And fail. These allegations is all rehashed, and have been dealt with, and–once again–the article was just too dang long. Shoulda serialized that sucker.”

“Specifically, though.”

“That libelous piece of trash article was a slur on the good names of Fred and Mary Trump! Might as well’ve gone down t’ the graveyard and dug ’em up and become feculent upon their earthly remains.”

DIXIE PLAYS WHILE A MAN SITTING SIDE-SADDLE RIDES IN NOISE

“Senator Graham. We weren’t expecting–”

“IT’S SICK! That’s sick! The New York Times is sick! How could you do that to those wond’rful people, you monsters? You’re no better than the ghouls of the piney woods that haunted my dreams as a sickly and artistic child! Every word of that filthy piece of garbage was a desecration of Fred and Margie!”

“Mary.”

“Whatever. YOU’RE GONNA BURN IN HELL. All y’all. For trying to destroy this shining beacon of strength and glory, Donald Trump. You hate him, all y’all. If I could, I’d have cigarettes put on on your faces. The Trump family is good American stock and you just wanna tear it all down. All y’all are gettin’ cigarettes to the face.”

DIXIE PLAYS WHILE A MAN SITTING SIDE-SADDLE RIDES OUT NOISE

“That happened. Who all has another question? Anyone but Acosta.”

“Sarah, why won’t you call on me?”

“Because you’re a troublemaker and I wanna buy a lion an’ set it on you.”

“That’s unnecessary.”

“It’s necessary as all get-out. Lion’s gotta eat, an’ I gotta watch you die.”

“Jesus.”

“Boy, you blaspheme one more time, an’ I’ll stomp your guts.”

“Sarah, I want to follow up about the tax fraud article.”

ROOMFUL OF PHONES MAKING THE EMERGENCY ALERT NOISE NOISE

“Sarah, the President just sent the entire country an emergency message that reads Jim Acosta is Fake News.”

“Yeah, he’s probably gonna be using that to rage-tweet now. We all saw it comin’.”

“Can you please answer my question about the tax fraud? The Times is reporting that the Trump family engaged in–

ROOMFUL OF PHONES MAKING THE EMERGENCY ALERT NOISE NOISE

“–persistent patterns of…oh, you gotta be kidding me.”

“Sarah, the President just sent the entire country an emergency message that reads $1000 to the first person to punch Jim Acosta in the Fake News head!”

“Wow. He just turned your life into a Purge-type deal, didn’t he?”

ROOMFUL OF PHONES MAKING THE EMERGENCY ALERT NOISE NOISE

“This one says Sarah, go punch Jim Acosta in the head.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna be needed in a meeting real soon, so I’m gonna wrap this up. No more questions, an’ God bless President Trump.”

On The Roam Again

What the hell is this?

“What?”

I thought you were going on a journey to find David Lemieux and make him your sensei.

“I am, I am. But I got waylaid. And then I got way laid.”

You had that it your pocket.

“I did. I almost put it on Instagram, but thought better of it.”

Good decision-making, John. Is this a real human being or one of those Disney animatronics?

“She’s a wrestler. It’s stage makeup.”

You should tattoo your face.

“I’m not gonna do that.”

All the kids are doing it. You could have a guitar on your forehead. DOUCHE KING written under your eyes.

“Hey!”

Ah, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.

“You’re aggressive and unpleasant. It’s not fun being with you sometimes.”

Sometimes?

“It’s never fun to be in your presence. Not ever at all.”

John, bubbe, you’re nothing without me. Take me out of the equation and it’s just guitar solos and disastrous interviews.

“I was doing fine before you. Banging famous chicks and making the Top Ten. Did not need your help for one second.”

But now you need my help to get to David Lemieux.

“No, I don’t. I’m just gonna get in the Earthroamer and point it north. No trick to it.”

There’s a little trick to it.

“John, thank you for joining me. It’s the Radio Randy Show and we’re here live with John Mayer, who has just pussed down super-hard with a gorgeous lady of wrestling. John, thoughts?”

“What now?”

“Oh, Goddammit.”

I put you on the Earthroamer, John. And I sent Radio Randy along.

“Why?”

He was in the picture.

“John, explain to the listeners what they can expect from grapple-coitus.”

“Grapple-coitus?”

“Wrestler sex.”

“Radio Randy, I don’t know if that’s really the area I want to get into. It never ends well.”

“Describe Jennifer Aniston’s sex musk.”

“Fruity with a strong whiff of vanilla. Like if a banana split just got fucked really hard.”

“Fascinating. We move on to the Avital Ronell controvery.”

“Why does everyone keep asking me about that person? Is it even a person? That sounds like a Star Wars name. I can’t even figure out how to spell it well enough for Google to know what I mean.”

“Where do you see Dead & Company next year?”

“Uh, we have the Mexico shows in January, and then we’ll figure it out from there but I’m pretty positive that another tour is in the cards. We’re learning how to play and there’s a wonderful magic to the band now. It would be stupid to stop. Nothing’s set in stone, but there’s gonna be a tour or two.”

“That’s good news for all the fans out there. Where do you see Dead & Company in 800 years?”

“Not touring as much.”

“You’re suggesting a residency?”

“No.”

“Let’s get back to the googoo.”

“The what?”

“The smush that ladies keep down there. You know. Down there.”

“Hey! You!”

Me?

“Yes. What’s wrong with Radio Randy?”

He’s randy.

“These are the cheapest fucking jokes I’ve ever heard, man.”

Just go talk to him.

“Or what?”

CLIP CLOP CLIP CLOP

“Is that a horse outside the Earthroamer?’

“THE FIRST AMENDMENT SAYS YOU NEED TO LET MY USE THE BATHROOM IN YOUR RECREATIONAL VEHICLE!”

“Goddammit.”

“I GOT A POWERFUL LOG WAITING TO BE SET FREE, MEYERS! LEMME TURN ‘ER LOOSE IN YOUR COMMODE!”

“Hard pass. Hundred percent no on this one.”

“THIS IS CENSORSHIP!”

“How is not letting you shit in my bathroom censorship? It’s an RV. No one’s supposed to shit in the toilet.”

“THE MARKETPLACE OF IDEAS REQUIRES THAT YOU LET ME SHIT IN YOUR VAN, JOSH MEYERS!”

“It does not. I’m gonna drive away now.”

“THIS IS HOW COMMUNISM STARTED! WHEN PROUD, SHIRTLESS MEN WERE FIRST DENIED ACCESS TO MOBILE POTTIES, THE GULAGS WERE SURE TO FOLLOW!”

“I wasn’t the best history student, but I’m pretty sure that’s not how it happened.”

“YOU LOVE GULAGS!”

“What? No. No one loves gulags.”

“YOU’RE THE GULAG-MAN! LEMME DOOKY IN YOUR CAR!”

“Hey!”

Why do you keep bothering me? Just deal with the situation at hand.

“I don’t want to. Look at him.”

That’s peak male performance, John. You may not like what it looks like–

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve been on the internet. He looks like a bear fucked a moron. Get him out of here.”

Anything’s better than him, huh?

“YesNO, WAIT!”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Goddammit, you tricked me.”

It’s easy. And these are old tricks. You should know them.

“David Lemieux is gonna  become my sensei, and then he’s gonna to teach me how to walk out of posts whenever I feel like it, and then I’m gonna never speak to you again.”

Gonna, gonna, gonna. Phones’ ringing now, pal. Answer it or deal with the Mounted Man-Wolf Of Liberty up there.

“Hate you.”

“Hel–”

“I KNOW IT WAS YEW, JEWBOY, AN’ AH’M FIXIN’ T’ SKIN YEW ALIVE.”

“Goddammit.”

“CONFESS! Damn yew, confess! Ah’m gonna get mah sling blade an’ re-circumcise yew if yew don’t admit t’ writin’ that filthy lie of a letter t’ th’ yellow dog Jew York Times.”

“Sarah, I’m not Jewish. Not that any of that would be okay if I was. And obviously–”

“JEW LIES!”

“–I didn’t write the op-ed in the Times.”

“We done used our computer machines, Jew Mayer! They-a” got t’ whirrin’ and fizzin’ an’ analyzin’ the words of th’ dickless ass-cheese what so horribly run down th’ fine reputation of Trumpident Trump.”

“Trumpident?”

“That’s the new word. No more Presidents. We gonn’ have Trumpidents from now on.”

“Um.”

“Yew know what that computer machine done tol’ us, Dreidel-Dick?”

“Not Jewish.”

“It done tol’ us that th’ language in that there op-ed was exactly th’ same as in your lyrics! Whatchoo say t’ that, yew treasonous cockslammer?”

“Then you’re using the computer wrong. I didn’t write the op-ed. It was from a senior staffer in your administration. I don’t work in the White House.”

“Due t’ shortages in the HR office, we don’ who does an’ who don’t work f’r the Trumpident, so we jus’ assume ev’ryone does.”

“That is sad and not shocking. It is sad that it’s not shocking, though.”

“How could yew do this t’ your country, moneylender!?”

“I’m hanging up.”

“FIRST TH’ ROSENBERGS, NOW YEW!”

“Not Jewish.”

DIAL TONE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“You’re a lousy wretch and once David Lemieux teaches me his secrets, I’m out of here.”

Anything can happen.

A Partial Transcript Of Today’s White House Press Briefing 6/14/18

INT. WHITE HOUSE PRESS ROOM – THIS MORNING

“Good mornin’, y’all. Ah hope you prayed t’ Jesus today, cuz Satan is ev’rywhere. Look, he’s right there! Oh, no, that’s Jim Acosta.”

“Very funny, Sarah.”

“A sense o’ humor is one o’ many genetic traits mah daddy passed on down t’ me. Before Ah take any o’ y’all’s questions, Ah have a short statement Ah did not prepare that was dictated and not edited.

“Ahem.

“The losers and haters thought that Trump couldn’t denuke North Korea, but Trump won. Kim Jong-Un, who is very tough but you have to be tough in this world, was a very, very strong negotiator, but America won. The world is now at peace for the first time in many, many years and the Korean War is over. Just because we didn’t write it down doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. No more Korean War.

“The Trump Foundation is one of the greatest charitable organizations probably in the entire world. Last week, the parents of a Korean War soldier said to me, ‘Mr. President, can you bring our boy back and thank you for your charity work.’ Can you believe that? Their boy’s been missing for 70 years and they still mention my charity? That’s a huge compliment to me, huge, and you got this Eric Schneiderman who is a pervert saying terrible things, and it’s really a shame.

“If you see Jeff Sessions, tell him I don’t like him.

“Ahem.

“Let’s get goin’ with those questions. Gary?”

“Sarah, an ABC report from last night showed the detention centers that children taken from their parents are being held in.”

“Foreign children, Gary.”

“They’re still children, Sarah. Don’t you think they should be with their families?”

“Yes, they should be. Darn tootin’.  But their parents made theyselves a shame of a choice and now we are legally bound to rip the babies from their mothers and throw ’em in repurposed Walmarts. That’s th’ law.”

“It is not the law.”

“It’s as good as law. It’s what we hold with round here.”

“What?”

“Swamp justice, Gary. It’s makin’ America great again. April Ryan, Ah will slap that scowl off your face.”

“I dare you, bitch.”

“Ah dream ’bout body slammin’ you into an empty swimming pool.”

“You think you’re something, step off the podium.”

“Sarah, could I ask a question?”

“Cheese-and-crackers, Jim Acosta. You wait your dang turn.”

“I thought you were looking at me.”

“Ah tol’ y’all that the right eye was the good one this week. Ah tell you every Monday which eyeball is workin’.”

“Yes. You’re right. I even wrote it down.”

“Boy, you dumber than a dead coonhound.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“What ain’t necessary is your lyin’ an’ weaselly ways when it comes to this here Administration. Ah suppose you got some bleedin’-heart question ’bout them kids, too?”

“The five and six-year-olds torn from their parents’ arms? Yes, I have some questions about that.”

“Well, Ah hope your questions is in the form of a ‘thank you, President Trump.’ Cuz a good 80% of them kids is MS13 assassin-rapists.”

“They are not.”

“Fine. 75%.”

“No percent. These are children.”

“Yuh-huh. MS13 is usin’ children now t’ do their assassinatin’. An’ their rapin’.”

“None of that is true.”

“Boy, you thicker than molasses in February.”

“Could you please stop calling me dumb in old-timey Southern ways?”

“Hell, naw. Oh, hey, speakin’ o’ Southern…”

BANJO MUSIC NOISE

“…it’s Attorney Gen’ral Jefferson Beauregard Dixiepants Sessions.”

“Well, don’t you look scrumptious, Miss Sarah?”

“Fiddlesticks, Gen’ral.”

“How’s your momma an’ them?”

“Uncle Jasper’s back in th’ hospital.”

“Did your Aunt Sassybeth put him there?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Well, you lemme talk to these here J-E-W’s an’ Ah’ll come right on back an’ we c’n set a bit.”

LARGE WOMAN CURTSYING NOISE

“Aw right, who’s got theyselves a question? You, boy. Where you from?”

“CBS.”

“Naw. You?”

“Associated Press.”

“Nuh-uh. You?”

“Al Jazeera.”

“Security!”

“That’s highly offensive.”

“Oh, take a joke, Ahmed. How ’bout you? Clean-shaven fella.”

“I’m from the Christian Broadcasting Network.”

“Oh, that’s super. Not Catholic, though?”

“Oh, no. Definitely not Catholic.”

“Well, you an’ me gonna get along like sweet an’ tea. Go ‘head with your l’il ol’ question.”

“Sir, is there a Biblical passage that validates the Administration’s actions regarding immigration?”

“Flapdoodles, yes! Luckily f’r ya’ll, Ah brought the Sessions’ family Bible. Lemme open it up.”

MOURNFUL FIDDLE MUSIC PUNCTUATED BY THE CRACK OF A WHIP NOISE

“Ah quote from Philip 21:3. When the foreigner comes to you, put them in cages provided by private contractors. Ah’m quotin’ chapter an’ verse here, folks. Here’s another one. Boudica 17:11. The Lord is in everyone, but some are low and some are high and the way you can tell is that Mexicans are the low. If you’re disagreein’ with me, you’re disagreein’ with God, folks.”

“Attorney General Sessions, it’s one thing for the Bible to say something, but it’s quite another for U.S. legal code to say it. Which law are you citing to defend your decision to split up families and house children in detention facilities?”

“You that Jim Acosta fella.”

“Yes.”

“Miss Sarah done warned me ’bout you.”

“I’m sure she did.”

“Acosta.”

“That’s my name.”

“Acosta.”

“Stop it.”

“Jus’ don’t hear that kinda name ’round these parts real often. Where your people stay at?”

“Virginia.”

“No, Ah mean originally.”

“I’m not having this conversation.”

“I quote furthermore from th’ scripture! Glastonbury 32:2 Blessed is the Attorney General who does not feed illegal immigrant children to bears, but instead provides them with warm cages. You see there? That’s th’ Holy Word, son. Ah walk with th’ Lord.

LARGE WOMAN RE-ENTERING NOISE

“Gen’ral Sessions, Ah forgot t’ tell you: the President don’t like you.”

“Well, bless his heart.”

Possible Sarah Huckabee Sanders Replacements

  • 65 pounds of rained-on mulch.
  • That lady from Oakland who called the cops on the barbecue.
  • Burt Reynolds’ brain implanted into a giant praying mantis mech.
  • A sponge that’s been soaking in rabies.
  • Glasya-Labolas, Author of Blood.
  • Pennywise.
  • Daphne Zuniga. (I’m of two minds on this one. On one hand, Daphne Zuniga doesn’t get enough work. On the other, I am a fan of the woman’s, and don’t want her anywhere near the President. Oh, God, I hope she hasn’t turned into a Trump person. How terrible would that be if Daphne Zuniga pulled a James Woods? I can’t bare to look. Okay, I looked: Daphne Zuniga was born in Berkeley and sits on a bunch of environmental group’s boards. Phew.)
  • Woman from a Bangkok sex show who shoots ping-pong balls at April Ryan.
  • A hand-lettered sign reading “Cuz fuck all y’all, that’s why.”
  • Jeff Dunham & Achmed the Dead Terrorist.
  • 18 turds in a 14-turd sack.
  • Toe-spiders. (There are either spiders that live in your toes, or spiders with human toes for legs. I haven’t decided.)

A Range Of Expressions

“Hey! Thoughts on my Ass! How’s your pucker?”

Tight.

“That’s what you want. Can’t have a floppy pucker, brother. No good for anyone.”

You look happy.

“Free shirt! Third best thing that can happen in a day.”

Wait, lemme guess: getting paid is first, and skank is second.

“You know me so well.”

I do. Gonna be in New York this weekend, huh? Any big plans for the city?

“Hell, yeah. No one knows New York like me. Peter Gatien used to call and ask for tips.”

Obscure.

“First, I’m gonna go down to Chinatown and eat some Chinafood.”

Yummy.

“Then it’s up to Times Square, where I’ll be taking my dick out at tourists.”

Predictable.

“And then I got a thing I gotta do.”

Are you talking about the show?

“Yeah.”

Playing Citi Field is “a thing you gotta do.”

“I played the fucking Pyramids. You think I’m impressed by where the Mets live?”

True.

CELL PHONE NOISE

You have a cell phone?

“I stole Josh’s.”

Sure. You’re probably not gonna like whoever’s on the other end of that call.

“Nah! You know me. I’m a people person.”

Uh-huh.

“This is Billy. I’ve got my dick out.”

“That’s disgustin’, you foul l’il pervert. Ah got a good mind t’ tell the whole congregation on you.”

“New phone, who dis?”

“This is Sarah Anti-Rodriguez Huckabee Sanders, lover of Christ and Donald J. Trump. Mostly in that there order.”

“Anti-Rodriguez?”

“My parents wanted people to be sure I wasn’t Hispanic.”

“Huh. Wish I thought of that for Justin.”

“Where is Josh Meyers? Is he hidin’ from me? His people do that. Anne Frank, for example.”

“I stole his phone while he was washing his pants. This is Billy. Hey, Huckabee: you wanna fuck-a me?”

“Excuse me, heathen?”

“Y’sound fat and angry, and that’s what I’m into this tour.”

“A woman’s appearance is not on the table, sir.”

“Not on the table? Okay, I’ll bang you on the counter.”

“Ah am a good Christian, you fungus-person!”

“C’mon, honey, we’ll give ourselves chicken-gravy enemas.”

“How dare you!?”

“I dare real good. I’ll dare right in that sloppy eyeball of yours.”

“Well, Ah never!”

“Well, you should!”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“Can’t stand me a liar, Ass.”

She may be the only person in the country who deserves that kind of treatment.

“Don’t get me wrong: I’d still fuck her.”

What wouldn’t you fuck?

“Dunno! Been trying to find out for 60 years now.”

God bless you, Bill Kreutzmann.

“Yeah, I’m the fucking man.”

Stagelight Serenader

Jesus.

“What?”

Don’t sing to men.

“That’s awfully homophobic of you.”

Dude, if you want to blow Andy Cohen, blow Andy Cohen. I’ll cheer you on and wipe the slobber out of your butt-chin. Fist him. I don’t care. Fist him again, like you did last summer. Fisting time is here. Go nuts on his nuts, and I’ll say, “Good for you.” But don’t sing to another man.

“You are a deeply uptight man in a lot of weird ways.”

You’re just figuring this out?

“Go away. I’m celebrating my friend’s 50th birthday.”

Andy’s 50?

“Yup.”

And yet he looks younger than you.

“He doesn’t.”

Just in the face. And probably with his clothes off.

“You can’t bother me. I’m rich and famous and have rich, famous friends and millions of Instagram followers and clothes from all over the world.”

Under you chin is getting saggy.

“WHERE? MIRROR!”

“You need to leave me alone.”

We’re buddies.

“We’re not. I hang out with millionaires and designers and Dave Chapelle. I banged Bebe Rexha the other night.”

How do you pronounce that?

“Y’know what? I have no idea. Just called her ‘Tushycakes’ the entire night.”

Nice work. Who else you been sticking it in lately? You’re quiet in the gossip columns.

“Both Darlenes.”

What?

“From Roseanne. Both Darlenes.”

Wow. That’s impressive.

“At once.”

WOW.

“Right? It’s like getting Eiffel Towered by both Darrens from Bewitched.”

You’re living the dream, Meyers.

“Mayer.”

Stop singing to men.

“No.”

Steal Andy’s brown shoes and tell him it’s for his own good.

“Why would I do that?”

For his own good. Brown shoes are for guys who manage malls in Ohio.

“I’m just gonna stop talking to you.”

Sure.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I hate you.”

You have every reason.

“Johnny M. speaking.”

“Are you serenadin’ homos, Jew Boy?”

“Dammit.”

“Ah can see ev’rything with mah super-peepers. Ah’m like Hillbilly Heimdall.”

“I’m singing my friend a song.”

“Degeneracy reigns in California! Hot darn, you sissyboys out there set mah mustache to quiverin’.”

“I have several products that could take care of that.”

“Ah am a Christian, sir, and Ah take mah ablutions via scour.”

“Scour?”

“There’s a Little League field by mah house. Ah go out there at night and rub mahself against first base f’r a while.”

“Not recommended.”

“It’s in the Bible.”

“I don’t think the Bible mentions Little League.”

“How would you know ’bout the Holy Bible, Delicatessen Breath?”

“For the ninth or tenth time: I’m not Jewish.”

“Ah c’n smell the usury all over you, boy.”

“Wow.”

“Why aren’t you singin’ the National Anthem?”

“For a bunch of reasons.”

“One bein’ that you hate America. Another ungrateful millionaire who burns down VFW halls in his spare time.”

“I don’t do that.”

“You’re disinvited t’ the White House!”

“I wasn’t invited in the first place.”

“Well, you ain’t comin’ now, and black unemployment is down.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Tell Andy Ah like his shoes.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“I want you to cease all contact with me.”

Get your lawyer, Delicatessen Breath.

Ahhhh, Leak Out!

Nice. Got a DMZ going.

“DMZ?”

Dandy Man’s Zone. That little bit on a white guy in between the pant cuff and socks. Sexiest part of a body. So dandy.

“I’d like you to focus on the clothes, and not the parts that aren’t clothes.”

What about your face?

“Scratch what I said. Concentrate on my clothes and face. And hair. Never, ever forget the hair.”

I’d rather not think about any of those–

“Sure, I’ll describe my outfit in detail.”

Dammit.

“The shoes are $1200 Nikes.”

Why are they $1200?

“What did you pay for your sneakers?”

Sixty bucks or something.

“Well, mine are twenty times more fashionable than yours.”

Okay.

“The socks are Visvim. They’re made out of wool from a lamb that lives in a castle.”

A castle?

“Big fucker. Got a moat and everything. You gotta see how happy this lamb is.”

The pants?

“Um, it’s called ‘a pant.’ Don’t embarrass me in front of my hoodie.”

The pant?

“I got ’em in Target. Isn’t that fun? High culture, low culture. I take a lot of inspiration from collage artists. Hold on. Lemme switch positions.”

What?

Oh.

“I’m very conscientiously getting into the kneeling lifestyle. There’s so much to learn! Left knee, right knee. There’s the Asian Squat, but my Achilles tendons won’t do that, and I don’t think it counts as a kneel.”

Did you change?

“Always.”

FACETIME REQUEST NOISE

“Why!?”

That last thing. The ‘Always.’ Just rubbed me on my wrong doodad.

“Dick. Ugh, it’s a Facetime.”

Maybe it’s Carrie Underwood.

“Been there, done that, not going back.”

Why not?

“She sniffs glue.”

That’s still a thing?

“That’s what I said!”

FACETIME REQUEST NOISE

“Hate you.”

Yeah, yeah.

“Number Two on the week’s iTunes download charts, John Mayer here.”

“Cram it, you Christ-killin’ sumbitch: I know you leaked our last conversation.”

“I didn’t.”

“Your people are nothin’ but liars.”

“Again, Sarah: not a Jew.”

“Look me in the eyes and say that!”

“Which one?”

“You stuff that sass, sheenie.”

“Which is the dominant eyeball? Where’s my focus supposed to be?”

“The leakin’ stops here! You go on back to your yarmulkes and buttholes!”

“I do like buttholes.”

“Heathen boy! I smite you in the name of Jesus.”

“You have no smiting authority. I’ve read the Constitution.”

“Constitution ain’t in charge no more. Trumpstitution rules Barter Town!”

“This is starting to make less and less sense.”

“TWO EYEBALLS ENTER, ONE EYEBALL LEAVES!”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Can my daddy play in your band?”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH FACETIME NEVER DID THAT

“I told you I wanted to stop talking to her.”

Yeah, I ignored you.

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