The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

I did not have sex with that Ukrainian President! No wait, that was a Democratic President who was lying. This is different, fundamentally, different. We did not talk quid pro quo on that phone conversation. In fact it was a perfect phone conversation, perfect. So perfect we locked it up in the super secret Cone of Silence at the Deep State Data Bank Vault, but we have a transcript, not quite as perfect, mind you, but pretty perfect. You can judge for yourself that I’m innocent.

Well, okay, I did ask the comedian president, Zelenskiy, or Zorro or whatever his goofy name is, for some help cleaning up corruption in that shithole country he’s running. Sent Rudy right over there, see what’s what, get it cleared up before things get worse and they elect a clown for president. They got the goods on Biden and his kid. We just need to get them to dig a little, find something we can use before the 2020’s. You believe that guy, Sleepy Joe, using his name to get his kid a 50K a month gig on their oil board? Corruption! They both ought to be in jail. High crimes and treason.

So what if Little Adam Schitt has a whistle blower, fake news, third hand rumors, who cares? There was no quid pro quo, I only asked Zorro to look into Biden’s boy, big deal. What, another whistle blower? First hand information? There’s treason, you ask me … the guy ought to be outed and shot. Along with Shifty Schitt. So yeah, maybe I did put the chill on those weapons we promised Zorro to fight the Russians. Who, by the way, aren’t bad people if Putin was being honest with me and I think I know honesty when I hear it and I hear it louder than anyone ever has now or before. I hear it like a bell beat by a gong, a huge gong. It sounds great.

So I asked for a favor if he wanted those weapons. I admit it, big deal, who cares? That’s how we do business. Maybe you read my book, The Art of the Deal? I still have some copies you can buy. I’m the deal guy, the best, nobody like me since Kubla Khan, and I could take him with one hand behind my back. If I could reach that far ….

Trading influence for political gain? I don’t think so. Read the transcript. Perfect phone conversation, I won’t say too many times again. No, the real one is locked up. You’d just cherry pick it, twist it around, make me look like a crook. I’m not a crook, I’m a businessman, that’s why you morons elected me, time for a change. I just want to weed out corruption, nepotism, drain the swamp, make America Great Again. Go look at what Biden did, it’s a crime, a real felony, why pick on me? China, you listening? I’d take any help I can get. Give me a call. Rudy’s got a jet ready to roll.

Impeach me?? Who you kidding? Rick Perry is who you want. Made me call that Zorro guy. Now the coward has quit. Looks guilty as hell, quitting like that. Talk to him, I don’t know anything about it.

Okay, so now that Mr. T has tweeted his opinion that those 4 Congresswomen should go back to where they came from and been informed that 3 of them come from the same place he does, well, time to focus on the Somalian who he claims hates America. Meaning, she has found some faults here that she, as an elected official in the United States Congress, hopes to address. For that she is labeled a hater, unpatriotic, possibly a felon and probably a terrorist. So much for tolerance in the Yew Ess Aye.

Today Rand Paul, another elected official, apparently comfortable with throwing stones now that others are throwing them first, stated that he would buy Rep. Ilhan Omar a ticket back to Somalia so she could learn what a great country we really are, kind of ironic considering the tone of intolerance of Sen. Paul. Criticism by someone born outside his country evidently doesn’t cut it for him. Best damn country in the world. Best damn country ever. How dare anyone who came from somewhere else find fault! Fly her back and he’ll pay the airfare.

Excuse me, but one of the things I happen to like about my country, and yeah, I was born here, is the right to free speech. Also the right to criticize. And absolutely the right to find fault and maybe even suggest ways to correct those faults. Call me unpatriotic, call me a terrorist, call me a Muslim sympathizer, call me late for dinner, but HEY, guys like Paul and Trump, they’re the threat to this country. They’re the subversives. They’re what scare the bejabbers out of me. Maybe Sen. P should go visit some totalitarian countries, the ones who squelch dissent and suppress opposition, to get a better sense of what makes this country great. Maybe we could all help him with the airfare. First class, of course.

Down at the forward thinking South End, we were New Age before it became Old Hat.  Herbal remedies?  You bet!  Nettle-opathy has been practiced in the hollows here since old Ma Wexler applied a poultice of the fresh stingers to her Erectile Dysfunctional husband’s non-working parts and boy howdy, things livelied up at the Wexler homestead after that, let me tell you.

Nettle-opathy is a country cross between acupuncture and herbal cure-all.  Apply a few fresh spring leaves to the correct chakra, you can cure everything from shyness to arthritis, halsitosis to insomnia, hair loss to memory loss, seasonal affective disorder to major depression.  You won’t have time to think of much else other than that panacea tickling your chakra.

We’ve been brewing medicinal nettle tonics about since Prohibition forced us to seek alternative medicines.  We got hefe-nettle, nettle stouts, IPA’s, nettle bock, all available in a handy 12 oz. dosage.

Aromatherapy?  Sure.  We got everything from burn barrel poly-blend to chimney cedar to compost leaf mulch/food scrap.  A few minutes of olfactory stimulation, you’ll forget most of those insignificant cares and woes that nag your good mood all day long.

Hypnotherapy.   You want a spell put on you, just wander down to the South End Hotel and belly up to the bar, listen for awhile to the whoppers these old time fishermen spin over a few bottle bass.  You’ll be buying Penn reels and downrigger gear and a boat and motor too — you’ll be broke but if fishing doesn’t cure what ails ya, god help you.

In all honesty — full disclosure here — this New Age stuff, old to us, is really mostly a placebo.  But then, isn’t that the New Medicine now?  And really, who cares so long as it works.  Not our fault the South End itself is really why we live longer, smile more, work less and basically just have most of the answers to life’s tough riddles.  Placebo?  You bet.

76 trombones led the big parade. With a hundred and ten cornets close at hand.

Aw, who doesn’t love a good parade, marching bands, twirlers, floats and banners and our boys in uniform? Women too now! And Transgenders! Followed by tanks and artillery, jets flying overhead in formation, bunker buster bombs carried on carriages two blocks long. Formation after formation of the Army, the Navy, the Marines and the Air Force. Battalions and generals and military hardware. The Commander-in-Chief looking down from the stage specially constructed for his viewing pleasure, salutes to him as thousands pass by rank and file, hail to the Chief!!

Damn the expense! If we can’t put on a good military parade once a year, what kind of cowpie country are we? Let the rest of the world cower before our display of drones and cruise missiles moving mile after mile down the banner festooned streets of D.C. Patriotism on Display!! Military Might on Display!! Who doesn’t love a good parade?? Forget that Mickey Mouse balloon stuff. Homer Simpson three blocks high. We’re talking about Fire Power, not Star Power. Save the Disney stuff for the Mummer’s or the Rose Bowl or Mardi Gras. Bring on the Bradley Fighting Machines, the 1126 Stryker, the MK19 grenade machine gun, the Black Hawk helicopters, the MK-54 torpedoes, bring it all out and let the world tremble.

Shock and awe on the streets of the USA, that’s what we need. You wonder how we won the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq and Syria, well, sir, check out that hardware we’re selling to every hungry dictatorship around the globe. What’s on display here is more than Uncle Sam’s mighty muscles, it’s a runway for arms sales, pure and simple and who better to brand that than the Trumpster himself, Captain America. You need a second generation jet, we got em. You need some Surface-to-Air missiles, we’re your supplier. Just don’t resell them to terrorists. Don’t want those SAMs falling into the wrong hands like that time with the Taliban back in the cold war days when they were fighting the Soviets.

No, give me a good parade any day. Celebrate the weapons of destruction. Hell, drop a nuclear bomb out in the countryside, nothing too big, just a little show of atomic power, a warning to the enemies of liberty. Small mushroom cloud over the capitol, better than the 4th of July. Guns and God, let freedom ring. 76 trombones and a huckster Music Man, is this a great country or what?
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