Every Thursday afternoon, Congress empties out, and races to Reagan National for flights to their home districts.
Some would say this is to get the hell back home, but it’s really so that they can get back for an early start on weekend campaign fundraising.
I did a little fundraising of my own, too. On Kickstarter.
The project was to create medical nanobots, but there are so many other uses for these little buggers.
Project Term Limits: nanobots in the fuel supply for all these jet planes. To crash them.
When the last plane takes off, I send the signal.
Tag: war
The King Of The Beach
The King Of The Beach lives in a massive sandcastle.
He stands on the parapet, looking out over his beach.
When he spots a child making a sandcastle, he orders his men to invade the usurper’s territory and smite their castle.
Sometimes, a child tries to put up a fight, so The King lays siege to their castle
“Mom, can you get me an ice cream?” shouts the child.
Their mother looks at the King’s men, and she urges the kid to surrender. “We’ll go to Disneyland next month, okay?”
The victorious King laughs, and returns to his parapet, watching.
Civil War
Tens of thousands of Syrians have died during their civil war.
Hundreds of thousands have fled the country.
While these people suffer, diplomats and politicians yell at each other and do nothing.
Like many, I think we should arm the Syrian rebels, but the problem is that the rebels include Al Qaeda and Hezbollah terrorists.
So, I have decided to help arm the terrorists with pies. Because the YouTube videos will be funny instead of head-chopping-off gruesome.
“What kind of pie would you like?” I ask a rebel.
‘Die Infidel!” he shouts.
“Sorry, just apple and cherry today,” I grumble.
The Tupperware Party
We’re holding a Tupperware Party at my house.
No, we’re not showcasing food containers.
We’re a political party. And we’re planning a revolution.
We hope to preserve the union, the constitution, and individual freedoms.
How will we do that? Simple, really.
By encasing everyone in plastic containers, of course. And by pushing down the lids to burp out any air.
We’ll start by sealing up all of the current political leaders in Washington. And capitals across the world.
Once peace breaks out, we can unseal them.
Make sure to label everything. Although creamed spinach is much more popular than Congress.
Parland
West Parland and East Parland have been enemies for so long, there’s no remaining evidence of there having been a unified Parland ever existing.
Each claims to be the right and proper Parland, claiming sovereignty over the other, home of the National Church Of Parland, speakers of the Original Parland language, and keepers of the Parland style of cuisine.
Finally, in the dead of night, after so many years, the East Parland Army marched West… and the West Parland Army marched East.
They completely missed each other, and they conquered their enemies’ lands.
The citizens woke up confused and frightened.
Galactispeak
Galactispeak is a dialect of Ancient Varadne.
There is no Modern Varadne. All life on Varadne was exterminated in a planetary civil war many centuries ago.
The species may be gone, but archaeologists and xenoanthropologists pieced together the culture as best they could.
Their language was revealed to be amazingly flexible, descriptive, and efficient.
It is also incredibly easy to learn and master in a short amount of time.
So easy, Varadne spread like a virus across the galaxy, replacing almost all other languages.
We call it Galactispeak.
And we shout it as we fight each other to the death.
Atheists In Foxholes
Back in World War 2, US Army regulations clearly stated that there were to be no atheists in foxholes.
Atheists that would ordinarily be assigned to foxholes found themselves reassigned to trenches, bunkers, and pillboxes.
However, the Clinton Administration’s “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy allowed atheists to join their religious brothers-in-arms in the foxholes.
It also allowed them to engage in all the gay sex they wanted to in those foxholes, just as long as nobody asked them why they weren’t shouting OH GOD, YES while climaxing.
As for the atheist chaplains, there’s no explaining some shit the Army does.
Contractor
The general watched the wall of his headquarters shake apart and collapse.
The contractor smiled and said “This will give us an opportunity to learn from our mistakes and rebuild better.”
He was the first to die.
A year later, investigators found the contractor criminally negligent, and they imposed a heavy fine on his company.
Which was already bankrupt and out of business.
The fine would have barely paid the cost of the investigation and prosecution. Or the burial and death benefits of the soldiers who died during the attack.
At least nobody survived. Medical costs would have been astronomical.
My Favorite Things
Sure, Maria sings that bright copper kettles are one of her favorite things, but she’s not the one who has to clean them.
I do. I’m the chef who works for the Von Trapp family.
I hate this job, but I’m a Jew. Captain Von Trapp says that if I don’t want to work for him, then I’m welcome to board the next train for the camps.
So, I stay. And cook. And clean those damn kettles until they’re bright and shiny.
If she and those kids don’t shut the hell up, I’m going to poison the next apple strudel.
The Generals
General Clayton was a great soldier, and he earned many medals.
So many medals, in fact, he was unable to pin them all on to his chest.
That’s when he had himself cloned.
With all those additional chests, he could pin the medals on.
Of course, with all those additional General Claytons, they collectively earned even more medals.
More medals, more Generals.
It was an endless loop of generals and medals, until the Army ran out of medals to give to the generals.
Then, they all suddenly died of the same congenital heart defect.
Dammit. Now we need more cemeteries.