News with a twist Lisa Neff and Louis Weisberg, Staff writersUpdated
A royal toast, or four
At 91, does Queen Elizabeth have a
secret tonic? Well, according to Travel + Leisure magazine, she actually
enjoys a daily gin and Dubonnet with a slice of lemon and lots of ice
before lunch, followed by a glass of wine and a dry gin martini at lunch
and a glass of Champagne before bed. Here, here.
Plastic binge
A
woman from a city in central China accumulated more than $3.71 million
in personal debt and then attempted to avoid repayment and arrest by
undergoing plastic surgery. Reuters reported police officers searching
for a 59-year-old woman were astonished to find a woman who looked to be
in her 30s. How did she pay for the disguise? She used a credit card,
of course.
Better off fired
The week Anthony Scaramucci
learned he was out as President Donald Trump’s communication director,
he also learned he was dead — at least according to the Harvard Law
School’s alumni directory. The directory mailed to alumni in late July
showed an asterisk next to Scaramucci’s name, indicating the 53-year-old
Ivy Leaguer had died. The school issued an apology and said the error
would be corrected in subsequent editions, which are published every
five years.
Give a little, take a lot
Donald Trump, as a
candidate, promised not to take a salary for serving as president. Since
the law says he must be paid, the president is donating his salary. His
first-quarter “earnings” went to the Interior Department. And the
second-quarter paycheck went to the Education Department, which is due
for a 13 percent cut in Trump’s proposed budget. WigWAG wonders: Are
donations to government agencies tax-deductible? We’ll probably never
know what Trump’s tax returns show.
Gut-busters
The Center
for Science in the Public Interest issued its annual “Xtreme Eating”
awards, recognizing “nutritional nightmares” served in U.S. restaurants.
The Cheesecake Factory made the list twice. Its Pasta Napoletana —
sausage, pepperoni, meatballs and bacon on pasta that’s been greased
with butter and cream — delivers 2,310 calories and 79 grams of
saturated fat. And then there’s the boozy Flying Gorilla shake — five
scoops of chocolate ice cream drenched in 20 ounces of Budweiser beer.
Not a new deal
Democratic
Party leaders this summer rolled out a new agenda with a populist pitch
aimed at winning back voters lost to Donald Trump in the 2016 election —
still a baffling thought. Promoting “A Better Deal: Better Jobs, Better
Wages, Better Future,” the leadership promised “a better deal for
American workers.” The rebranding effort prompted a small protest, at
which activists hoisted pizza boxes with photos of Nancy Pelosi and the
words “Better skills, Better jobs, Better wages, Still Pelosi.” Some
have mocked the Dems’ slogan as similar to “Better Ingredients, Better
Pizza,” the slogan for Papa John’s pizza.
Hypocritical much?
During
a debate with Chelsea Handler over Obamacare, right-wing firebrand and
Trump supporter Tomi Lahren admitted she takes advantage of the health
care law’s benefits — despite opposing it. At age 24, Lahren remains on
her parents’ health insurance policy, thanks to a provision in the law
that allows such coverage up to age 26. The debate occurred at
Politicon, a non-partisan event.
Un-presidential personified
Before
he exited his clown car and entered the presidential circus, Donald
Trump was close to signing on to play the president in Sharknado 3: Oh Hell No!
But then, he decided not to because — wait for it — he was afraid the
appearance would make him look un-presidential. Producer David Latt
asked Mark Cuban to take the role instead, triggering a swift threat
from a Trump lawyer: “He basically said, ‘How dare you? Donald wanted to
do this. We’re going to sue you! We’re going to shut the entire show
down!’” Latt told The Hollywood Reporter. It doesn’t get much more
presidential than that, does it?
Not a foam party
Flight
attendants really hate it when you order Diet Coke. It takes forever to
pour, because the lack of sugar creates way more foam than regular
sodas. Pouring it over ice makes matters worse. “I’ve actually had
nightmares about frantically trying to finish a never-ending Diet Coke
beverage service before landing,” American Airlines flight attendant
Heather Poole told the Huffington Post.
Cute enough to KISS?
KISS
frontman Gene Simmons tweeted “This is real, folks!!!” after seeing an
image of a newborn calf with black-and-white facial markings similar to
Simmons’ onstage persona. Genie the calf was born on a ranch near
Kerrville, Texas, northwest of San Antonio. The ranchers say Genie is a
family favorite and won’t be sold for slaughter.
Hello my honey dews and don't. Such beautiful weather! Get out ,play some game, fall down and cut yourself, end up in the ER getting stitches. Then you can sue somebody. It's the great American game. While I've been the target of lawsuits often enough, I don't think I've ever brought suit against somebody. This whole stinkin' city is full of opportunities to sue. With an even halfway decent case, the city will fold. One of my favorites is the "your bus ran over my foot' litigation. It helps if you have a corrupt foot doctor on your side, but it's not necessary. In fact, a doctor can cut into your settlement quite a bit. Limp into City Hall some morning and yell out, "Your bus ran over my foot. When I yelled for him to stop, he didn't" Then threaten to sue and see what happens. If nothing else, you should get something for pain and suffering. This city just loves to give away money.
If you're really into it, claim some sort of back or nerve damage. Those are very hard to disprove or prove so it may take awhile, but you could end up with a healthy chunk of change. We've been giving millions to lying ohn's contacts. How about we keep some of that green at home? Speaking of which, my candidate, Sandy Weidner has a campaign headquarters:
She's also released a statment on her run:
Sandy is my candidate, so you'll find a preponderance of evidence to support her here. The above snippets come from Racine Community Media: http://racinecommunitymedia.tumblr.com/
Maybe, just maybe, with the head of the snake removed, our Common Council can return to normal. If not, we'll just have to chase the rest of the cons out. I believe that lying John will attempt to run Racine "long distance." His crew is in place. They'll push his agenda. Maybe lying John can attempt a takeover of the US Government. He should be able to pull that off in a week or so.
Speaking of the US Government, I believe that it's our duty to squash the bug currently running North Korea. All he does is talk war with us. Well, bring it. You must have at least a dozen nuclear weapons. We only have a few thousand. Pig.
Well, like I said, today is turning out to be a great day. Plenty of sun and temps not too high. Thanks for reading the time to read my blog today. I appreciate all of my readers and encourage them to send more my way.
Thank you, again, for recommending our site. We're nothing if not crazy.
__________________________ Please donate: paypal.me/jgmazelis If you don't like PayPal, send me a note at madamezoltar@jtirregulars.com and I'll send you my street address so you can send a check or money order. Thank you.
I’m
Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, I got the
good news and I got the bad news—what’s the “good” and what’s the “bad” is up
to you’s, but here it is: On one hand, I’m back from a summertime Up North
odyssey 30 miles straight out of Hayward; on the other hand, I’ve returned
queasily under-the-weather to the degree that there’s not much on my platter
that I can shovel your way in the form of an essay, what the fock.
But
hey, thanks for taking care of the city—such as it is—while I was away. And
yeah, the trip was OK, thanks for asking, until focking Ernie somehow managed
to drop the car keys out of the goddamn boat for christ sakes. You know, when
you go Up North you always hear about the deer ticks and the wood ticks and I
say big focking deal, ’cause I tell you that the ones that really get under
your skin are the luna-focking-tics you’re
vacationing with, I kid you not.
Yeah
yeah, we were way up northwest around your Sawyer/Bayfield counties, a quaintly
developed area of the state where I swear Woodrow Wilson is still president.
But it’s one heck of a scenic locale, and although job opportunities seem slim,
there appears to be plenty of eating opportunities given the load of girth the
huge majority of residents have swaddled themselves with. Cripes, my buddy and political
campaign-fund solicitor Herbie goes about 225 lbs. but Haywardians always threw
in a couple extra bucks out of sympathy when he panhandled them for the cause
’cause they thought he was sick-thin from chemo treatments or something.
We
held our brainstormin’ retreat that could change the future of this country at
my buddy Ernie’s brother-in-law’s state-of-the-art summer home. Yes sir, state
of the art provided you were a contemporary of Jean Nico-focking-let. And
spacious? You bet. How would the equivalent size of three modern-apartment
bedroom closets, with equivalent toilet facilities to boot, sound to you? Well,
whatever it is you hear Up North, it sure wouldn’t be the sound of a flush
toilet if you’d have stayed where we did.
And
I’m also tight on time on account of having to meet the fellas up over by the
Uptowner tavern/charm school, so’s we can make our plans for going to see the
new Apes Planet movie. But I got to tell you, even if this movie is
Oscar-worthy, it won’t seem like a genuine Apes movie to me without Chuck
Heston in it. Talk about a guy with a style. I don’t want to say the guy
brought a curious quality of woodenness to his characters, but whereas most of
your actors put on some makeup before doing a scene, Chuck would slap on a
fresh coat of varnish and be ready for action, what the fock.
You
know, in this new batch of Apes movies, the monkeys are as smart or smarter
than the humans—like they’re super aliens from outer space somewheres. Which
reminds me, I read an article the other day about this institute out in
California to search for extraterrestrial intelligence. And I’ll tell you’s
that anytime I hear of some outfit out of Californica that goes by the name of
an institute or academy, my nut radar starts to hyperventilate. Contacting
aliens? A terrible idea. What if we get mixed up with a bunch of conquistadors
from who-knows-where? Hey, go ask the Aztecs how that panned out for them—if
you can find any.
And
speaking of species of lesser intelligence, our President Orange Circus Peanut
apparently entertains a novel notion regarding personal fitness. The following
is from a Trump biography by a couple of Washington
Post writers, by way of Kali Holloway from Alternet:
“After
college, after Trump mostly gave up his personal athletic interests, he came to
view time spent playing sports as time wasted. Trump believed the human body
was like a battery, with a finite amount of energy, which exercise only
depleted. So he didn’t work out. When he learned that John O’Donnell, one of
his top casino executives, was training for an Ironman triathlon, he admonished
him, ‘You are going to die young because of this.’”
Talk
about compassion, ain’a? And this from a guy who was supposed to have a great
fantastic plan for health care, a great beautiful plan—part of which, I
imagine, that if you now couldn’t afford the astro-focking-nomical health
insurance plan, insurance companies would be mandated to rent you a shovel so’s
you could choose to dig your own focking grave, what the fock.
Cripes,
I got to go relax. Anyways, it’s nice to be back where a guy like me can see concrete
again wherever he looks, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.