Tug-A-Whore

As an American who remembers that President Jimmy Carter had to sell his peanut farm in order to avoid apparent conflicts of interest while in office it's galling to watch the White House being turned into a Ferengi whorehouse while not one goddamn Republican Congressman sees anything wrong with the never-ending stream of bribes being stacked on the Resolute Desk by winking representatives from other lands.

We are literally THIS close to that orange Waif Weasel installing a huge set of scales in the Oval Office so that he can be certain that foreign dignitaries are properly bribing him his weight in gold... or Girl Scouts.

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Every member of Congress, but one, knew enough about the Epstein files to believe that Trump's fat rump is cooked. Republicans are terrified of being connected to Trump's rampant kiddie-diddling heading towards the mid-terms so, hey, House GOP, rip that bandage off now and start the impeachment process. It sure looks like you've got the Senate on board this time and, lord knows, you've got plenty of ammo with which to work.

Whew.

Just thinkin' about this is giving me the vapors. Think I'll lie go down and dream of micturating on fascist graves.

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In one of the late George Carlin's many performances he mused about the way we bid adieu to our friends and relatives. Particularly aggravating to him was the use of the phrase "Have a good one!"

Mr. Carlin offered an alternative that was more inventive and memorable -- "May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your house."

And then there was preferred response to "Have a good one"...

"Already got a good one. Lookin' for a LONGer one."

(This bit kills because audiences are always up for a good dick joke.)

Being that I'm not a famous comedian on stage before hundreds of people who have paid good money to experience such ribald shenanigans I AM, however, a fan with a good memory, lousy impulse control and a propensity to plagiarize.

So it is with almost Herculean resolve, over the decades since I first heard Carlin's choice bon mot, that I have managed to keep my mouth shut whenever some toothsome damsel behind the register closes our short slice of shared space-time with a friendly "Have a good one!"

I deserve a medal of some kind. Or at least a donut.

So have a safe trip, keep your hands on the wheel, and for god's sake, avoid driving directly into a nuclear fireball.

- Lefty