Saturday, April 10, 2010

Freddie Couples and Loving Couples.

0709/1946 72/82 E5/10 Blue Skies 75%H
DOGS 10965 8484 1160 1839 LIBOR .228.

Greetings from the Hill.

Another beautiful day in paradise,
golf on one side and classics the other,
blue skies and swaying palms...
spring and summer have arrived
with seventies and eighties
and a light sheet at night
for the open window breeze.

"Well, oldman..about time for a rant,
you may be free for a year,
but the nation you love
is deeper in financial shit,
thanks to the phony professor
in the White House,"
grumbles the madone
watering the balcony plants.

The oldman mused about the performance
of Barryboy and his oratory art,
a form of political evangelizing
that had the faithful swaying
and the doubters braying...
the middle class back to praying,
a subtle form of change
for the might of the religious right.

"The Prick canceled National Prayer Day
while letting Ragheads congregate
in front of Lincoln..."
steamed the Obama hater on the balcony.

Definitely a hidden agenda,
this warmongering Peace Prize winner
oozes false enthusiasm encouraging
"And a round of applause for..."
another of his toadies,
a toastmaster of bullshit.

The oldman sighed and accepted the con,

Ingratiating cheerleaders on the sidelines.

Most marriages aren't made in heaven,
but through,
but for those exceptional few,
those couples not fake or opaque,
but transparent in honesty
and the true love
of soulmates.

"No lying eyes, no cheating hearts,
true love from heaven above,
real American couples
exuding happiness...
after editing,"
chuckles the oldman,
approaching his A game.

"And we are coming up to
the final pairings,"
intones the idiot announcer
with hush hush ostentation
for for fools who bang balls
"And bang their balls,"
interjects the madone
mocking the man who took
'The Gentle Path'
to understand his
sexual aberrations
for white girls,
the promiscuous kind,
the wild sort.

"I don't know why that boy
didn't just have oral sex...
that's not intercourse,
why..ask Hillary,"
grinned that shifty
Billy Blythe.

Always close to the Truth.

A good spokesman for business,
and acting helps in politics,
Ronnie was the best but
Arnold looks like he was shot
or has a California cucumber
up his ass and his wife
looks like a Kennedy in drag,
spokespersons for default
on every imaginable bond
from the eighth largest economy
in the world..."Hello, hello,
Dumb, Stupid, Retarded...
snorts the oldman to Big Mac.

So comforting to know that some
politicians are honest about sex
but not the incestuous finance
of Freddie and Fannie,
or the menage a trois
with Ginnie Mae.

"That sputtering queer
covering up the Fraud,
the Fed in bed with the
'naked shorters',
Little Ben and Tiny Tim
peaking through the window
of opportunity at discount,"
snorting and getting thirsty,
too weak to walk.

Time to take the shade
in the garden
for beautiful thoughts.

"The Devil is out of the golf bag,
no pretty lovely blonde is safe,
big stick, big dick...
take your Gatorade..
'Is it in you',
great ad, Pepsi Cola,
hofuckingho, on with the show,
and the largest female audience
in television history...
every thing works out
thinking about all those
forgiving wives
until the time arrives.

Quiet streets and empty parking spaces,
no weekend repairs, no nothing,
no weekend drunks at three,
the Recession was Back!

"Imagine if the Fraudsters couldn't cheat,
professional golf, no handicap,
no mulligans, no kick out of the rough,
and noooo side bets covered
by a partner or rich caddy,
no snakey ass lawyer moving markers,
changing cup placement,
not raking traps,
scuffing the greens...
a game of honest gentlemen,"
wonders the oldman sadly,
knowing that 'if there is no law
against 'it', then do 'it'
is the prevailing behavior
of players of all American games,
be it golf, sex or the market.

"Tiger cheated on his wife,
tainted his children
and embarrassed his mother,
Earl would have broken
all of his fingers,"
growled the madone.

"How's Freddie hitting them,"
asks Fred from Portland,
on the MagicJack,
"Is Lee still first on the tee?",
inquires Cousin Terry's
scottish wife...
funning on an email,
"I like Phil,"
giggles Patricia,
watching in the bedroom.

A day of Change.

"It's a different world,
the complexity is awesome,
reaching far beyond our capacities,"
the senile old shit getting
his comeuppance on CSPAN
from Brooksly Born,
Greenspan was right
seventy percent of the time,
"Put that on margin."

Tiger was lurking in the short grass.

Phil had lost his thrill.

Hardly a breeze
in the fabulous florida keys.

Above the Horn.


  1. hey it's jeanna. :) good to hear from you! how's life? i'm on facebook, you should be too. even dad has one (although he doesn't really go on it very often. but regardless, he has one).

    p.s. i LOVE mad murdock and the chink spy. i showed it to my roommate and we both had a good laugh. woot!

  2. It will all be recovered by the time you are 71. So we are told.