This is a laugh-and-a-half. Or a full two jokes, as I float one by you for The Fourth then use my final mulligan to finagle a second giggle. Ye can all laugh, even if ye be a Brit. Or a landlord? But mom?!? Or The Donald?

Twin jokes of the day follow.

Just got off the phone with my mom — and maybe my twin — and she asked me, after I stumbled around by saying I had just used a dining (or living room?) chair to create a brand spankin’ new pantry shelf, when does my rental company do my (semi)-annual apartment inspection?

Aaaaargh!

Please mom, anything but that …

I’ll even take the wheel under, or over, as it is, my do-it-right-always (I’m teasing twice) twin bro!

So I had to call mom again when, just 30 minutes and a few ticks untidelly later, there was a note in my door that the next day They Would Be Coming For Me …

So The Deed was done. All was reviewed including that dreaded closet. And the after-assessment was: “We as per our maker and by thus hereby decree, after firm and fastidious final and flawless analysis, and the full impending authority of He who reigns harsh over all means of commoners, and bylaw 40 of the subordinate ordinance six, and subchapter two, and all dotted tees and crossed eyes, that the hearby-under-examination-and-thus-entertained premises and where-to-with and what-not and forth-with is immediately deemed …

Generally untidy.”

What? After all that buildup and jargon? I coulda told you that! That’s the best you can do! No whipping of my soles and ankles?? How dare ye? Thanks mom.

Unquote.

Now part two of the joke follows, with my tail between my legs and underneath and undercage my under-seige (bleeped).

Did you hear that The Donald, done in kind and forthwith, has dared to utter the F word on camera? And doubling-down, made reference a few days later (now) to using “a certain word.”

How to respond, as a concerned constituent.

I will utilize my God Given and Inalienable As Liberty right as a citizen with full free speech still possessed, to counter this abridgment to us all by also saying …

Fuck.

Simple and done.

Gee that felt good. Did it for you, too, Donald? Let’s try it again, as a mantra.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Festively featured five-word fiasco as my mini-manifesto, Happy Fourth of July in this land of liberty. I may not be able to say that come next year. Did somebody bleep me or slay me with all three dashes or lashes this year?

Haha. Rebel With Blather, PBR Red and White and Blue Joe.

Share the Post:

Related Posts

When walking down Second Street in Hudson, you may have seen a sign in a doorway saying One Drop Refillery, and like me thought it was a distillery, like a new place to have a drink. That would not fill the bill. Rather, this new shop that’s like a small mill, as in a dispensary, but quickly grew into featuring much more though related goods, reduces one of your steps and will be a first step toward saving the environment. It’s tucked inside the north half of a long existing photography studio by Lisa Buth and being what the former name says, it’s...
The pre-Halloween haunts are now hanging out their hat, and their head if they still have one, to harangue you, with a Witch’s Night Out — warlocks are apparently out of luck, although they can walk the street beside you, though she just might pass you by — on Thursday, Oct. 22, when things and heads really start rolling. (I was caught in a burning ring of fire, the circling flames lift my smoldered hat higher. Then rims settled for grab globs by Godiva, so she came a horseback witch attired.) So this is a night not only of bad lyricism and sometimes...
To all you true blue followers, hope you enjoy the following run-on expanse as humorous and very warped and a little redneck. It is all true, except for the dream part, which was dreamt. Welcome to Halloween early! Drank a couple of energy drinks, no Monster, and pulled an all-nighter typing somewhat late-dropped-into-my-lap advertorials and carried on my sleeplessness into the next morning and afternoon, all the while walking around the downtown and delivering draft copies and even picked up another assignment, one that could go boo in the night, say what is so. Was at the light by Agave and for some...
It’s roughly mid-October in a roughly MAGA America and how is your rough life going? (Seems like early November, but only politically, not as far as the mal-adjusted seasons.) Well I’ll tell you about mine, thank you. And roughly. Halloween haunts — got to find some extra dough for candy and costumes for the kids and myself, more and more obligatory for adults, but all I have is some spare change, can you please bum me a dime? — are already becoming reality in our everyday lives. Note use of the word “everyday.” Master of Reality? Black Sabbath nailed it...
How fast can you swing the axe? Ask the axe-man not on stage but sitting next to you. Bar math can be fun, as I’ve said many a time, but especially when it’s coming from a decades-long blues man. Imagine going to a bar to have a drink, or two, and then end up talking to a musician about how many more (notes) than that he can play a second! Try five or maybe six. Off to Hudson Tap, and tapping into the knowledge of a guy older than I who is a veteran blues man, mostly — and I...
Thou protesteth too much?!? That be me. Computer geek? Can’t see. Omniscient? I am not He. If you are reading my attempted Facebook teaser, it was supposed to be All About The Football, or even futbal, in freeze frame or infinite loop, but that Alleged Giant, of social media, clipped off the wording top and bottom, front and back, fore and aft, day and night, (that last part is important), then sent the post anyway, a yammering of names! I tried to fix it, and must own up to my own part, but I was just shown more ads. I...
Scroll to Top