Comedy is not exactly brain sugary, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers 

Competitive eater, Matt Stonie, set a world record by eating three pounds of Crunchy Cinnamon Toast cereal in 17 minutes. The next day Stonie set another record for being fired for spending too much time in the company bathroom.

In Ohio, a man was arrested for masturbating in a McDonalds. In his defense, he did order the Happy Ending Meal. 

Hillary Clinton’s new slogan is “Stronger Together.” Which is better than her old slogan, “My lawyer said I don’t have to answer that.” 

A study claims beautiful people have different life experiences than everyone else. Asked to comment, a beautiful woman said, “That’s not true,” then she boarded a private jet to spend the weekend in Tahiti.” 

In Ohio, a man was arrested for masturbating in a McDonalds. Asked to comment, the man said, “I’m really lovin’ it.” 

A mafia member in prison, “Joey No Socks” said he did business with Donald Trump. He calls Trump “Donnie Hay Head.” 

According to a poll, Donald Trump is doing badly with Asian Americans. In Las Vegas, you can get ten-to -one odds Donald Trump will say their view is slanted. 

In a speech in Detroit, Hillary Clinton said it is wrong dog trainers make more than pre-school teachers. Or as “Fox News” reported it: “Hillary glad Ol’ Yeller died.” 

Donald Trump is polling badly with Asian Americans. Trump’s response was not appropriate. Trump donned a talking-Chewbacca mask and said, “Wookie who no likey me.” 

Since you asked: 

Yesterdiddly, I was reminded of a story back when “American Idol” was watchable. Ann Caroline was about ten and we were watching during dinner. 

Part of the fun was riding the “AI” contestants who are not good. In the first couple of years of the show, I felt horrible for the people who were awful. My heart would break when they would say, “But my mommy thinks I am wonderful.”

But after a few years, when the show exploded, ignorance of their inability was no longer an excuse. So we would let fly with the insults. On this night, however, I thought A.C. and Virg were being too critical. 

“Hey, give them a break,” I said. “Unless you have performed in front of an audience of strangers, you don’t know how hard it is,” I said rather sanctimoniously. They agreed and things were fairly respectfully quiet for a while and the comments were contrite and polite.

Along came a young woman who could not hold a tune in a hooker’s purse. It was quiet for a few seconds after her dismal performance, then Ann Caroline said,

“I am sorry, but that was poop on toast.”

(Sniff) That’s my girl. 

Just had a ham and cheese and pickle sandwich on a bagel. Here is my question: how did I live without Wasabi mayonnaise from Trader Joe’s? 

Cool Beans Wally

Beginning to think my Walter Payton Kaseberg, aka, Wally, is the world’s most duplicitous dog. His need for affection goes up exponentially the closer it gets to meal time. By Six PM, lord, he is lovey-dovey. And his need for said affection recedes utterly as soon as he eats. 

Duplicity plain and simple. 

The other day I left the house to get mail and chatted-up our wonderful neighbor, Nancy. Upon my return, Wally greeted me like I was a Marine coming home from Afghanistan. 

A day or so later, I left all day to watch Ann Caroline’s track meet. When I got home, Wally was lying on the couch and he did not stir an inch. 

Now that I think about it, the world’s most duplicitous dog was my childhood dog, Charlie. Charlie was 100 percent poodle so he was nearly twice as duplicitous as our Sir Walter Cornwallis. 

Charlie, like Wally, was an unrepentant momma’s boy. It made my mom happy when Charlie greeted her boys, me, my brother John and my dad, when we got home. So Chas-bow would greet us. He threw his whole heart into giving us a yelping and dancing-with-joy greeting. 


But when any of us came home and mom was not there to appreciate the greeting? Charlie would not so much as bat an eye. 

How did a self-important putz like Stephen A. (We all know what the A stands for) Smith get on the air? Each night he verbally pukes on himself on ESPN; this shank-nozzle jumps on the roller coaster called Multi-syllabic and he can barely hang on for his useless life. Land-a-goshin’ he is one sizable tool. 

How bad is Smith? I dislike ESPN's verbal vomit-spewer, Skip Bayless, less. 

If there is such a thing as a higher being, Stephen A-Wad Smith will be summarily canned and replaced with Katie Nolan. 

How is the rapper name Skweef La Luffa not taken?


Four things that have to be in every submarine movie: 

One, no matter if it is a nuclear powered submarine with arguably with most highly advanced technology on the planet, they cannot control the temperature and everyone is constantly sweating. 

Two: A meal where the plates and glasses are sliding around. They never heard of pizza, sandwiches or burritos on a submarine? They are always trying to eat a bowl of soup. The singularly stupidest thing to try and serve on a submarine or ship. 

Three: depth charges explode basically right on the top of the deck and the only thing that happens is the requisite water spraying from pipes which is automatically fixed with a giant wrench. Has a depth charge ever sunk a submarine? Not in the movies. 

Four: the obligatory dive well below the manufacturer's recommended depth. The sound of the bulkheads creaking is part B of four. And also the mandatory leaking of pipes fixed, once again, with a giant wrench. 

Great line from “U 571.” “Whoever tried to fix the engine did not know a piston from his sister’s tittie.” One would hope he did not know his sister’s tittie.