Archive for December, 2019

The Tim Corrimal Christmas Special

Posted: December 24, 2019 in New Post

One of the special events of the Christmas season in our house was when my mother would make her famous homemade bread. It was a momentous project because her bread was not only for the Christmas meal, but to give as gifts to family and friends. Everyone looked forward to her gift of bread and the loaves were not only delicious, but a work of art. So much so that to immortalize her masterpieces she once had several loaves preserved in shellac for posterity. I have one of those loaves to this day.

But apparently the baking of the Christmas bread was not always a very smooth process. As I grew older, my mom confessed that the project was especially difficult when I was a toddler. So when friends would ask for her bread recipe, this is what she would give them:

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees. Grease pan, remove Lincoln Logs and toy cars from kitchen table. Measure two cups of flour, remove Joseph’s hands from the bag of flour, wash the flour off Joseph. Get one more cup of flour to replace the flour on the floor. Put flour, warm water and yeast on bowl. Get the dustpan and sweep up the pieces of the bowl Joseph just knocked on the floor. Get a new bowl, answer the door, and return to the kitchen. Remove Joseph’s hands from bowl, wash Joseph. Get out eggs, answer phone, return. Look at bowl, notice there is salt in the bowl, look for Joseph. Dump ruined mixture, get another bowl and start over. Answer phone, return to kitchen, remove Joseph’s hands from bowl, wash shortening, flour, yeast, etc. off Joseph. Answer door, return to kitchen and find eggshells floating in bowl. Head for Joseph who flees knocking bowl off the table. Wash the kitchen floor, wash the table, wash the walls, wash the dishes, call the bakery, lie down.

Needless to say, after her family and friends read this recipe, they had an even greater appreciation for her Christmas gift of homemade bread. Oh, and I was rarely invited into their kitchens!

The Impeachment Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Impeachment, when in Nancy’s house
Not a Trumper was stirring, not even the Louse;
The indictments were hung by The Speaker with care,
In hopes that some handcuffs soon would be there;

The members were seated in their jackets and ties;
With incriminating evidence crossing their eyes;
And The Speaker presiding with gavel in hand,
Had just told Jim Jordan to go and pound sand,

When down at the White House there arose such a clatter,
We turned on our TV to see what was the matter.
Away to the remote I flew like a flash,
Flipped on CNN there to hear Dana Bash.

The man in the frame on our flat screen TV,
Was an odd shade of orange and fat as can be,
When what to my wondering ears did he riff,
But Pelosi was evil and arrest Adam Schiff,

With a mangled combover that looked like a lump,
I knew in a moment it was Donald Trump.
More rabid than jackals his allies they came,
And he screamed, and he shouted, and called them by name:

“Now, Nunes! now, Jordan! Now Gohmert and Lee!
On, Graham! on, McConnel! on, John Kennedy!
To the mics of Fox News! to the mics of Sinclair!
Now lie and confuse and deny on the air!”

As dirty rats on a sinking ship jumped,
When they meet with real evidence are really quite stumped;
So on to the airwaves these liars they flew
With a  mouthful of lies, and Sean Hannity too—

And then, in a twinkling, there was a thundering cry
It was the voice of an angel cutting through all the lies.
As I picked up my head, and turned up the TV,
There Pelosi was pointing saying, “don’t mess with me!”

She was dressed all in white, from her head to her feet,
And the news that she had was not very discreet;
A bundle of charges she just flung at the press,
And said “just look at that asshole, that Trump made a mess.”

Her eyes, how they flared! Her voice how it thundered!
She scared Sinclair news and, out loud, someone wondered,
“What makes you hate Trump so much?” one man said,
And her face made a scowl and then turned a bright red;

She pointed her finger as she stiffened her stance,
And the look on her face made the man piss his pants;
“If you say the word hate one more time in these halls”
“You’ll be leaving this room with my heel in your balls!”

He was stunned and confused like an old drunken elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
‘Cause the fear in his face and the sweat on his head
Soon gave me to know that he’d rather be dead;

He spoke not a word, but slumped down in a crunch,
And filled his depends with what he had for lunch,
The other reporters just held their noses,
Because what they were smelling was nothing like roses;

Nancy sprang from the stage, to her team gave a whistle,
And away she walked off  like a liberal missile.
But I heard her exclaim, ‘ere she waved a goodbye—
“By this time next week, we’ll impeach forty-five!”

A Public Service Announcement

by Melanie Trump, Third Lady of Donald Trump

Good Afternoon. This week, along with my husband, the President of the United States, I visited the United Kingdom to celebrate the seventieth anniversary of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. Instead, some very nasty people took advantage of my poor husband and made fun of him behind his back end. I know there is a lot of room behind my husband’s back end and there is always a lot of fun making there. I know, I see a lot of fun making behind his back end when Devin Nunes comes to visit. But this is beside the point.

On the last day of the meetings, some very nasty men were overheard mocking my husband for blowing out a stinker during meetings like a big fat gas balloon. He does this sometimes, so what. At the White House, we refer to it as “white noise.” But the nasty men in the UK, namely that very bad but very handsome Justin Trudeau and Emmanuel Macron mocked him, making fart sounds and laughing that he “smells like an orange gas factory.”

As a result of this embarrassment, I am today announcing the third initiative Be Best NATO Edition: Stop Bullying POTUS. My new initiative has tree peelers:

  • First, every president is special and we should stop the jokes about his stinkers. We all have gas and have to let it out sometimes. It’s just that my husband has a lot more gas than most people. Having a medical condition is nothing to make fun of. We should make an effort to be more tolerant when he cuts the cheese and hold our noses and smile like the Republican party.
  • Second, we must always try to be kind to the president. He should be included in all the events the other leaders attend, instead of telling him there is a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken in the next room and then holding the meeting without him.
  • Third, we must always give emotional encouragement to the president as he has the mind of a four-year-old child. He is very sensitive and must not be “lead-on” or “egg-on.” He needs “boy talk” like “grab them by the p***y” or “piss on my mattress.”

By this new initiative, I hope that we all learn to treat each other with respect like we would treat our own family. I know that sometimes my husband is crude, nasty, a bully and a disgusting horn-bag. But above all, think of this: I have to sleep with him!