Big Dick(head) Contest
Phillipe and Jorge always enjoy seeing to what degree the General Assembly is going to disgrace itself before they adjourn, which always precedes July 4 because everyone at Halitosis Hall has family vacation plans that cannot be intruded upon by such trivialities as properly serving the Great Unwashed who elected them.
This year came through with flying colors thanks to the two most powerful jumped-up goombahs in Little Rhody politics, Senate President “Rubbers” Ruggerio and House Speaker “Thick Nick” Mattiello. These two functional idiots wrapped up the session early because of the equivalent of a schoolyard “mine’s bigger than yours” spat over the state budget. But what it was really about was Thick Nick’s prized campaign issue, the elimination of the car tax. Well, that should certainly be the major concern of the General Assembly, pushing aside such things as an improved education system, better pay for workers or people being shot by gun-toting lunatics.
The snit exploded when Rubbers decided to amend the budget to provide the state a way out of financial obligation in case Nick’s big idea failed to meet income needs. Mattiello went berserk, and said that he and the Senate president had a handshake agreement on it breezing through, saying gripping each other’s paws was a traditional unspoken guarantee of solidarity. Evidently the speaker has never heard the expression “no honor among thieves.”
So Thick Nick shut down the House for good, and Ruggerio soon followed on his side of the State House. Don’t let door hit you in the ass on the way out, right?
Wrong. Really wrong. The petulance of these two Mr. Man idiots left the state without a budget, which has horrible, rippling consequences. Not to mention leaving critical bills, such as paid sick leave, denying domestic violence perpetrators access to guns (a legitimate, long overdue and life-saving law that absolutely must be enacted), and providing aid to small businesses in providing healthcare benefits.
Without an approved state budget for 2018, municipalities not only take a hit in trying to balance their budgets while not knowing what the state input will be, but have a monkey wrench thrown into their education funding. Hey Rubbers and Thick Nick, how do you feel about screwing the state’s kids? Oh, forgot about that, did we?
Complicit in the Rubbers-Thick Nick travesty are the reps and senators who allowed this to take place without raising holy hell about it. As always, it was “silence of the lambs” at the State House, because unless we missed it, none the sheep in the two chambers have the guts to take on their leaders in public, and simply capitulated to the strong-arm tactics of their bosses lest they fall into disfavor. Shameful behavior. You should all be embarrassed, if not apologetic to the people who you are supposed to serve.
And that’s today’s sermon.
Storming the Bastille
It was very nice of President Pussy to accept French President Emmanuel Macron’s invitation to visit his country to celebrate Bastille Day (despite the fact that The Donald believes it was called that to honor a pastry, which is why he wondered why napoleons were being served at the Eiffel Tower, since they were obviously named in honor of Robert Vaughan’s American character Napoleon Solo in “Man from U.N.C.L.E.”).
Also a very smooth move by The Grabber to tell President Macron’s wife that she was “in great shape” while standing next to his own spouse, Zsa Zsa, whom the French first lady used as a human shield as she backed away from the Orange Orangutan.
But Bastille Day has always been inspirational in P&J’s lives, especially for P, for whom it has special (and none of your business, sorry) significance.
It always reminds us of Charles Dickens’ classic work, A Tale of Two Cities, with the famous opening line of, “It was best of times, it was the worst of times.” But that opening was actually expanded upon in the first paragraph, and seems to have a lot of relevance to the current chaos our country is experiencing under the new clueless, narcissistic, juvenile, greedy, anti-intellectual and arrogant US regime:
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way.”
Viva the revolution, and viva the French Resistance in World War II, which is a very viable model and mindset for today.
Hole in One
Phillipe and Jorge believe the Ladies Professional Golf Association and the US Golf Association showed an absolute tin ear in holding their high profile US Open at, of all places, the Trump National Golf Course in Bedminster, NJ, where President Crybaby often retreats when he is tired of playing POTUS.
Although the apologists for the pro tour, on which liberals are about as thin on the ground as are Black Panthers in the clubhouse, say sports and politics shouldn’t mix, may P&J point to the typically staid NCAA, and its decision to move all its major events out of North Carolina due to that state’s recent gender discrimination law. (And if you think that’s small cheese, it made the millions of diehard college hoops fans in that state, where it is the #1 sport, apoplectic to see traditional March Madness games moved elsewhere, never mind the economic hit NC took.)
But P&J’s one encounter with a Trump National course came in Florida a number of years back, at the time of Tiger Woods’ public disgrace and meltdown, exposing him for having numerous affairs with, let us say, women you would not want to bring home to meet the parents.
Just after we passed a huge sign touting one of Donald Duck Dynasty’s elite courses, across the road was what is known as a “gentlemen’s lounge” (we would never use the words “titty bar” in this column). Outside, on one of those huge, tacky signboards mounted on a trailer cart, was the advertisement for the appearance of a woman recently identified as one of Woods’ illicit consorts. Below her name was the highlight, “One of Tiger’s Favorite Holes.” Crude, offensive, demeaning, misogynist? You betcha, however laugh-inducing. Just like the man who owns the golf course across the street. Save for the laughter.
Our Little Crimetowne
A Bucket of Beer