I have seen this on the license plate of two motorcades, or as close as North Hudson, unlike its counterparts just to the south, can be as they bring partiers here like never before: A trio of numbers 495, which equates to slammin’ a $4.95 margarita at the defunct president’s club — not the cheap kind you get from HudsonWiNightlife — which foretells the deeds of The Donald (does he still merit a model word-or-two name?) and how he’s said to tip at that club. This after the much-of-the-weekend-when-you’re-supposed-to-be-on-the-job golf outings — all or more likely nothing. (Are you reading Dave Pirner, based on your lack of tip when getting Pudge’s off-sale, yes it happened, around the time when you were at the top with a hit record — whatever happened to you? — and the time the Clintons hosted you at THEIR White House?) But the last three digits of that plate are ZTD, which isn’t in my range, but I know not why, would seem to indicate the kind of sports car Trump would drive. What would you expect from a bankruptcy queen at the executive level? Get some exercise because you’ll need it for counting chads, and you can’t tally them twice if their edge is nicked! Voting twice? Only if you are as fat and counservative as former President Taft.
Riots in D.C. You have to wonder why it took this long. Some Trump supporters gathered near the White House under the name of Low IQ Individuals. Trump appeared at the window and said, “hey, I feel your pain.” As does the drummer for System Of A Down, a critically acclaimed metal act for its social justice lyrics, so I guess their can be a rebel whenever. What does your band leader, who is a staunch progressive just like his Hudson friend Taeja, feel about this? Maybe feeling like marketplace of ideas will win over, like rednecks know what the hell that is. They may even gloat about being anti-intellectual, and their may be some cause for that. Reference the unworkable ideals of Bernie Sanders. (And on a more serious level, what about the passing of “”Bernie” locally, whose name was weighed in on with RIP via the Village Inn in North Hudson for several days running, and across the way at Kozy Korner as simply Bernie, as a one-word model moniker).
And now that North Dakota has issued a firm no-mask-anywhere, anytime edict, one must again invoke song. Phil Collins had a hit record with No Jacket Required, no mention of masks in that earlier day, and then there was the Red Hot Chili Peppers: “Never made it up to Minnesota, North Dakota man is gunning for the border.”
This just in: On Lake Mill Acks, did I spell that right old Bill The Cat, there will now be a limit of one walleye, so just make sure it was the one that filled the boat completely even if walking on water is needed, (reference the New Testament and Apostle Peter). Maybe, reorder the way the catch are obtained, as banks do with overdraft transactions.
For more inconsequential data on the virus, subscribe to MedPage specialties and its bally-whooed precise categories — chances to die via strumdoliosis of the left hand, third knuckle in, on the 13th day of October on Friday under a Full Moon — For Which They Stay And Wait, All Will Be Revealed. Oh but wait a minute, we just had a full moon on a day that is right beside Halloween, so call that 800 number! Then get back to my people when there is nothing left of humanity but two zombies left at the bar, but wait that would mean that my people are dead, too?
Who needs BMWs (Best Motorcades to Watch) or presidential rides on the campaign trail — we have bar-scene limos ready and waiting for you to Ride Like The Wind
Share the Post:
Related Posts
- Elsewhere on these pages: Bark at the cheese on the moon puns, and Brewers win 22-0 to reply while Twins sweep a contender. REplay to replenish.
- For a post that has some of the cheesiest trivia-type references this side of the moon partway through, search elsewhere on this site to see it now displayed
A hodgepodge listing of everything that’s truly different but maybe baked porage follows, and we’re not talking about a connect-the-dots or puzzle-pieces contest or one on Trump’s foreign policy, haha, rather what I saw and what will be seen around town in recent times. Mostly, one of each. Think you have the world’s, or more likely local church’s, best grilled cheese sandwich, (coming from the land of, specifically, well curded and curdled milk and honey?) Fry it to the test on Saturday. No this is not an autumn chili cookoff, or char the best burger, or even a poker run...
- Give props to the several bands for climbing partway up deer-stand-style lofts, then taking to all but the lute. (We saw virtually every other style of smaller instrument at a Music in the Trees fundraiser for a nature preserve.) Yes, they dropped a couple of drumsticks to the forest floor, but perservered as a fan fave. Then a band from The Andes stole the show.
Music in the trees? It conjures up images of a poet wearing millenniums-ago robe and sandals while playing a lute and propped onto the fourth fork of a bigger-than-usual apple tree and doing a balancing act on his ass while he sings a soliloquy or a soffit. Maybe taking a bite in-between verses, to match what listeners chomped on if they hauled it in down long nature paths, making for dinner and a show with duos and trios, and one huge and elaborate band. Well didn’t quite get that lute-ist. Or a bassist so high on life and so-forth stoned...
- The start of one song, was simply “Question?” So we’ll lead off this story — Guess Who? — with who will lead the blue as it attempts to fade in with the red in the county in this election cycle? Can we get to The Color Purple? Mock the Maroon? (A scam Alert!!! My post is massively updated after my short trip between Badger and Gopher states. So read on.)
Questions everywhere? These days, how do you dismiss an ad or a politician, or whoever or whatever pops up and occupies your computer screen, or mailbox, electronic or otherwise? And did that answer in the form of a package or letter or even air waves — coming from a pol or a pool? — ever actually arrive, like all those ads and flyers? Maybe it never will? And surely not written with a quill. As one friend just reminded me, it all starts with one problem leading into another set of problems. Or, like a volcano boiling and brewing and...
- The hearsay vote will be read by some as pure heresy, as Hermening spies the ‘country club crowd’ for how he can putt to quasi-greatness and quash Trump. Then in today’s election there’s a pro-life, run-of-the-mill muckadymuck, a Hong pro-education predictable, and a sharper than the average sheep Shannon (yes it’s a he.) THat’s what flyers tell us about the Day’s Of Our Lives. Today.
Hey today they threw it all back to you, as it is election day, and with it the last Badger gasp — if least if they’re our candidates — (is that the throaty noise they make?), with a soar-throated, campaign-trail rasp made by an audio-version plethora of last-minute flyers that fill our boxes with hopes to grasp, so we can check their boxes when we go to the polls and pick a (partial) winner to move on to full November midterms. Less then the Trump-triumphed manhandling our mailboxes got however, in the last election of this type. Those worn, creaking...