Saturday, October 21, 2017

Dear Sarah Huckabee Sanders

Dear Sarah Huckabee Sanders,

I think you're going to be a popular Halloween costume this year.

Veraciously yours,

Underemployed



Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Happy Holidays

Dear Mr. Trump,

The best Christmas present of all would be your resignation.

Greetings of the Season,

Underemployed



Monday, October 16, 2017

Dear Scott Walker

Dear Governor Walker,

If they didn't listen to Trump, why should they listen to you?

You're a dolt,

Underemployed



President Mean Girl

Dear Mr. Trump,

The other day I came across David Axelrod on TV, cautiously suggesting that perhaps you might be jealous of Barack Obama.

(Ya think?)

I admit that I find it disheartening the way Washington circles the wagons when one of the chosen turns out to be a lemon (or, in your case, an orange).  You can practically see it tattooed across their foreheads:  "What can I get out of this without losing any votes?"  Screw nuclear winter, global warming, and neo-Nazi's!  They're more worried about their cousin's appointment to 2nd undersecretary to the ambassador of Tonga.

But getting back to this thing you have with Obama (and John McCain, too, BTW):  Dude!  I totally get it!

Back in high school, when I was about 16, I had this BIG crush on a guy named John.  I mean, I was full-on, sixteen-year-old-girl ga-ga, crush at first sight.  And my world came crashing down when, on the second day of our acquaintance, I overheard him talking to his best friend about Carmen, a young lady he clearly admired.

Carmen didn't know I existed, and when we were finally introduced, she was very nice (damn her).  She was tall, blonde, smart, talented, and funny.  And she had BIG BOOBS (tucking them into your pants now, huh Carmen?), which sort of mirrors your tiny hands complex. 

I was CONSUMED with jealousy, which lingered like the taste of Fresca, even after John and I became a big item and then eventually broke up.

My point is that, though all of this played out in my own mind instead of a global arena, I spent many an hour trying to console myself by criticizing Carmen's smallest flaws.  Hey, it was my Mean Girls stage!

And you're in your Mean Girls stage with Obama.  Though it's an unusually long one, if we count the whole "Birther Movement" comedy.

But I understand.  After all, truth be told, you fall a little short in comparison with your predecessor:
  1. He's younger than you.
  2. He dresses better.
  3. He's better looking.
  4. He has better hair.
  5. He's better educated.
  6. People like him.  And miss him.  A lot.
  7. He has a higher IQ.  (Don't argue, it's obvious.)
  8. He won the popular vote.
  9. He has bigger hands.
  10. And crowd sizes.
AND, though I'm only guessing here, he's tougher than you are.  I'm willing to bet that Sarah Huckabee Sanders would beat you in an arm wrestling match.

Thus, you have your reasons.  And my sympathy.

So let's move on now, shall we?

Empathetically yours,

Underemployed




Sunday, October 15, 2017

Dear Mr. Trump

Dear Mr. Trump,

I'm a little depressed.

Not about you, per se.  The moment I wrote you off as a nutcase, you lost the power to depress me.

Even when you hold up some bullshit piece of "legislation" (like you really understand legislation), glowing with your "Look at me!  I'm a big boy now!" face (actually scarier than your "Mussolini" face, which makes you look like something crawled up your butt and died), I remain immune.

No, what depresses me is that sea of happy (mostly white) faces that seem to populate your every photo op.  Much more depressing than you is what crawled out of the woodwork after you.  Smiling and applauding, they are always there, seemingly unaware of...well...anything

But you.  (Where have I see this before?  Oh, yeah.  North Korea.)

Now, given that these people are not certifiably insane, are apparently competent enough to match their belts to their shoes, and haven't be gelded, what would motivate an entire roomful of people - not to mention 292 or so Republican members of Congress - to encourage the tantrums and (potentially dangerous) antics of a petulant, mentally and morally deficient, giant orange man-baby?

I'm at a loss.

Since they can't possibly all be completely stupid, it must be either greed or fear.  Now, no amount of money is going to make nuclear winter or global warming any more fun and, personally, I can't imagine how someone could possibly be afraid of you.

Unless...
  1. Your BFF Steve Bannon and his dirt-digging machinery at Breitbart have something to do with it.
  2. You are Washington's Harvey Weinstein.  (Are you Harvey Weinstein?  The similarities are striking.)
  3. There are a lot of things about you that I don't know anything about.  Things I wouldn't understand.  Things I couldn't understand.  Things I shouldn't understand.
What I do know is that this doesn't bode well.  At the very least, it's creepy.  And your "base" is starting to look like a Village People fancon.

Maybe Donald Jr. could shed some light here?  They don't call him "Fredo" for nothing.

Perplexedly yours,

Underemployed



Monday, October 9, 2017

Dear Mike Pence

Dear Mr. Pence,

Word has it that you thought Colts fans would follow you out of the stadium en masse, in a grand spectacle of support for you and President Circus Boy.

Didn't quite work out that way, did it?  

Do you know why?  Well, besides the fact that most people have figured out that both of you are just straight-up whack-job fools, your head looks like a Day of the Dead sugar cube.

Just saying,

Underemployed




Sunday, October 8, 2017

Morons - Part 2

Dear Mr. Pence,

As if this couldn't get any better.

First, you jet from Las Vegas to Indianapolis to stage your little comedy.  At the taxpayers' expense.

Then, you post a picture of you and the missus at the game.  ("See how much fun we were having?  How tragic we were driven from the stadium by such a dastardly - AND TOTALLY UNEXPECTED - manifestation of disrespect for soldiers, Flag, National Anthem!"). 

Unfortunately, the picture you posted was from "the game" in 2014.  

Then, the Cheeto-in-Chief tweets that he told you to do all this.  (Surprised?  Moi??)

Then, you jet to California.  For a fundraiser (good luck with that).  Also at the taxpayers' expense.

Total bill?  The watchdog group keeping an eye on you is saying $250,000.  

Your display of utter contempt for the intelligence of the entire population of the United States is insulting, unless you actually thought you were being clever.  But please keep in mind that We the People are relying on the likes of the TWO OF YOU to handle Vladimir Putin and Kim Jong-un.  To keep us safe from terrorism and nuclear war.  To show us a little of the respect you demand from football players for the national anthem.

Gotta say, it doesn't look promising.

Can you imagine what Rex Tillerson is thinking?

I can.

Stupefiedly yours,

Underemployed





Dear Mike Pence

Dear Mr. Pence,

I think I have this right:
  1. You went to the Indianapolis Colts game today.
  2. Knowing DAMN WELL that some of the players would kneel during the national anthem.
  3. But you went anyway.
  4. And then, in a GREAT SHOW of what you parade as "patriotism",
  5. You left.
  6. Sputtering, "I left today's Colts game because President Trump and I will not dignify any event that disrespects our soldiers, our Flag, or our National Anthem."
  7. Knowing, ALSO damn well, that these peaceful protests have NOTHING TO DO with respect for soldiers, flags, or anthems.
  8. Which has been explained at LEAST a zillion times.
  9. But, who cares? 
  10. You and the Clown Prince (during your last playdate) figured it would be a great publicity stunt.
Way to go, Mr. Patriot.  If we had more like you around during the Revolutionary War, we'd be taking a knee for "God Save the Queen".

Sincerely,

Underemployed



Dear Bob Corker

Dear Senator Corker,

Will you marry me?

Love,

Underemployed


Saturday, October 7, 2017

Morons

Dear Mr. Trump,

You:  "They had these beautiful, soft towels, very good towels.  And I came in and there was a crowd of a lot of people, and they were screaming and they were loving everything.  I was having fun, they were having fun.  They said, 'Throw 'em to me!  Throw 'em to me, Mr. President!  So the next day they said, 'Oh, it was so disrespectful to the people.'  It was just a made-up thing.  And also, when I walked in, the cheering was incredible."

Mike Huckabee:  "You were a rock star."


Trust me, there is not a single late-night comic who wants to see you leave office.

And, by the way, Mike Huckabee is a moron, too.

Saludos,

Underemployed



Dear Cyrus Vance, Jr.

Dear Cyrus Jr.,

Well, well, well.

By wild coincidence, I watched the documentary Abacus: Small Enough to Jail a few weeks ago.  It was the first inkling I had of your existence and, I must admit, it did not leave me with a favorable impression.  In fact, I remember - quite clearly - hoping that Purgatory actually exists and that you might do some time there before continuing on to your ultimate destination.

Now, to my delight, I see your name in the news. 

And I think that the Purgatory time is pretty much a go, and that the ultimate destination could in question.

Because right about the time (2012) you, as Manhattan District Attorney, were parading - past reporters - poor non-violent souls, hand-cuffed to each other like in a chain headed for the gulag, you were letting Ivanka and Donald Trump, Jr. off the hook for fraud.

Oh, and right about that time, one of Trump's personal lawyers sent you a campaign contribution (surprise!), because you are such "a person of impeccable integrity".  Two contributions, in fact.  The first one you returned right away, because - well, how would it look?

And the second one (the larger one) you also returned. 

Last week.

Now, some perceptive person in New York is asking that you be "probed". 

Couldn't happen to a nicer guy.

Wouldn't it be lovely to see you, Ivanka, and Junior hand-cuffed together and paraded - in a chain - past some folks from the New York Times? 

Be still my beating heart.

Staying tuned,

Underemployed





Friday, October 6, 2017

A Terrific Idea

At this moment, while 9 out of 10 people in Puerto Rico still have no electricity, and many have no running water...

...Mr. Trump is hosting a Hispanic Heritage event.

(Let that settle into your brain for a minute, and - while you're at it - imagine what it must be like for Puerto Rican families with babies.  And/or elderly.  And/or sick people.)

I am hoping that at least some people at that event toss paper towels.  Not at Mr. Trump, because they'll get arrested, but perhaps to each other, a visible protest in commemoration of his memorable behavior during his visit to that devastated island.

In fact, I hope the paper towel protest toss follows Trump wherever he goes.  Preferably for the rest of his life.

It's a terrific idea.


Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Wait...What?

I just found out that the bill to ease the restrictions on gun silencers is officially called (and I couldn't make something like this up if I tried)...

"The Hearing Protection Act"

Seriously?

If there were an Olympics for Orwellian Euphemisms, this one would take gold.  I would like to meet the genius who dreamt it up.  After saluting his talent, I would drag him by the ear over to a chalkboard and make him write "I will not help whack-jobs buy stuff to kill people with," a thousand times.  Then I would send him to Vanuatu, without his supper.

Also, in case you missed it, Son-of-Trump, (Junior, aka "The Smart One") did an interview last year for a silencer manufacturer, saying that silencers were a great way to "get little kids into the game" of hunting.

I have three thoughts on this:
  1. Junior is even dumber than previously thought.  (Probably.)
  2. Junior should not be left alone with children.  (Possibly.)
  3. The psychotropics I ingested during that one trip to Jamaica in 1975 have finally kicked in.  (Perhaps.)
Now, I offer three alternatives to those Americans who, in the absence of any real understanding of the meaning or intention of the 2nd amendment, would rather see a potentially dangerous firearm accessory more freely available in a country where innocent people are already being menaced by their own crazy-ass fellow citizens, 
  1. Earplugs.
  2. Noise cancelling headphones.
  3. Don't shoot guns.
Easy enough, and no government legislation necessary.  

No bullshit, either.

Dear NRA

Dear NRA,

Per the second amendment to the United States Constitution, what part of "well regulated Militia" don't you understand?

Conscientiously yours,

Underemployed


Sunday, October 1, 2017

Wrapped in the Flag

"When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying a cross."

- James Waterman Wise

Querido Presidente Ridiculo

Querido Presidente Ridiculo,

Las unicas noticias falsas que hay son las que salen de su boca.

Sus ciudadanos (de veras!),

Puerto Rico


Saturday, September 30, 2017

Dear Eric Trump

Dear Eric,

I'm so glad you don't mind it when NFL players stand and link arms.  I was worried.

Not,

Underemployed


Dear Ann Coulter

Dear Ann,

You find Mike Pence attractive and dignified?  Sad!  (Actually, that explains a lot.)

In deepest sympathy,

Underemployed


Another Prediction

Trump will resign (medical reasons, heel spurs?) as soon as Congress passes his tax bill (which they will).  I have a feeling it's the only reason why the powers that be (i.e., the very rich people who own Congress) allowed him to be president in the first place.

As soon as Ivanka starts packing up her Post-its, you can start counting the days...


Friday, September 29, 2017

Candygram for Mongo!

Dear Mr. Trump,

Now that I have your attention, can we talk?
  1. Congratulations on being the most "tweeted about world leader" at the United Nations General Assembly.  I wonder if you realize that most of those tweets were multi-language variations on "What an asshole!"  
  2. Tell Steve Bannon, the next time you guys are sharing a pizza, that the Alabamans who voted for Roy Moore are a pack of morons.  But then again, so are the ones who voted for Luther Strange.   
  3. Thank you for sharing the revelation that Puerto Rico "..is an island.  Surrounded by...big water, ocean water."  My husband finds this endearing.  I do not.
  4. Speaking of Puerto Rico, I'm glad to hear that things are going "really well" there.  Remind me to add "really well" to The Donald Trump Phrasebook and Dictionary.
  5. That's some tax cut you're promoting:  "giant, beautiful, massive".  (You left out "turgid" and "throbbing".)  Rip my bodice, and I'm sold.
  6. Please explain how a puffy, orange, old draft dodger - who has publicly ridiculed John McCain as "not a war hero" - can be questioning the respect of protesting athletes for the United States military. 
In the theater of the absurd that is now America, it is only appropriate that your administration be brought down by socially conscious members of the National Football League.

And speaking of sports, I have a sort of Fantasy Team in my head for a re-make of Blazing Saddles.  Until recently, I had only cast Barack Obama as Sheriff Bart and Joe Biden as The Waco Kid. 

But now, I think you'd be perfect as "The Pres", and wouldn't Mike Pence make a wonderful Hedley Lamarr?

As for Lili von Shtupp...

Too obvious?

Contumaciously yours,

Underemployed


Monday, September 25, 2017

Dear Susan Collins

Dear Senator Collins,

Thank you.  I will sleep well tonight.  Though I would sleep even better if somebody would shut down President Pumpkinhead's Twitter account.  (Time for some aggressive action, General Kelly, don't you think?)

I would also like you to know that you are my hero and my role model and I want to be you when I grow up.  

And if you run for president, I will send you money.

Your fan,

Underemployed


Sunday, September 24, 2017

Dear Mr. Trump

Dear Mr. Trump,

Let me see if I have this straight.

So, standing with your arms linked is good and kneeling is bad.  And this is because...

...you say so?

I think it would clear up a lot of confusion and save us all a lot of drama if you would just publish a list of body stances acceptable to your regime.

Patriotically yours,

Underemployed


Dear Mr. Trump

Dear Mr. Trump,

You've really gotten yourself into a pickle, haven't you?

Setting aside the very real consequences of hurling childish insults at North Korea, you've managed to tick off both the NFL and the NBA in the same week.  For patriotic reasons, you say, though even a casual investigation of your life will indicate that your "patriotism" is a relatively recent development.  (Those bone spurs can be a real bitch, no?)

You even went so far as to call an athlete a "son of a bitch" in public, on TV, in front of a cheering (and badly-dressed) crowd.  Not a good move for a pudgy old orange dude, but that's why you pay your bodyguards, I suppose.

You're calling for players to be fired, and a fan boycott.  Good luck with that.  I'm pretty sure that the majority of people who actually take you seriously are just going to ignore you on this.

The response from the sports world has been heartening:  Steph Curry, LeBron James, Kobe Bryant, Bruce Maxwell, Robert Kraft (count me as a born-again Patriots fan), Shad Khan, Roger Goodell, amongst others have basically told you to fuck off.  

Today is Sunday.  It's almost kick-off time.  This might be a defining moment for you.

I hope so.

Can Colin Kaepernick have a job now?

Go Bears,

Underemployed





Saturday, September 23, 2017

Dear Mr. Trump

Dear Mr. Trump,

Sweet home Alabama!  So you had a rip-snortin', foot-stompin' good time with thousands of people you would normally find highly unattractive.  Good for you.  You're always much more...shall we say..."newsworthy" after your handlers arrange for you to be in front of a bunch of illiterates for a while. 

But you should lighten up on the big-crowd-size thing, because you're only drawing attention to how small we suspect you are in every other respect and, anyway, at this point we're pretty sure your fans are paid.

I'd like to take this opportunity to address a few of your points:
  1. There's a difference between "Little Rocket Man" and "Little Marco".  Little Rocket Man has nuclear weapons at his disposal; Little Marco does not.
  2. Remember when you said John McCain wasn't a war hero?  So does he.
  3. I think it's probably not a good idea to profanely condemn an NFL player's respectful protest gesture.  It further blurs the distinction between Kim Jong Un and you.
  4. The Wall:  "If you can't see through it, you don't know who's on the other side."  I can solve that mystery:  Mexicans.
  5. Luther Strange:  "I might have made a mistake..."  Well, that's a ringing endorsement.  Not that I care.
But the number one issue about the Alabama rally:  Were you kidding with that tie?

Sartorially yours,

Underemployed


Friday, September 22, 2017

Dear John McCain

Dear Senator McCain,

You've done it again!

"I cannot in good conscience vote for the Graham-Cassidy proposal."

Sir, you are my kind of hero.

From a mother's heart, thank you.

Respectfully yours,

Underemployed


Dear Melania

Dear Melania,

I hear you want to stop bullies.  Why don't you start with your own husband?

Skeptically yours,

Underemployed


Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Dear Jimmy Kimmel

Dear Mr. Kimmel,

I, too, have a child with a life-threatening (and expensive!) pre-existing condition.  Please accept my sincere appreciation for standing up to those heartless bastards who would have no problem ruining our lives if they thought it would buy them a vote.

Thank you for using your voice in our defense.

And though I have long surrendered myself to blankets and bunny slippers by the time your show comes on, I want you to know that I love you.  

Gratefully yours,

Underemployed


Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Dear Paul Manafort

Dear Mr. Manafort,

You do realize that if it weren't for leaks, we wouldn't get any news at all.

Just saying,

Underemployed


Dear GOP Senators

Dear GOP Senators,

You do realize that all these health-care theatrics have NOTHING to do with what might be good for the American people and EVERYTHING to do with obliterating any fond memories they might still have of Barack Obama.

Right?

Because if Obamacare were called "Trumpcare", the current resident of the White House would be touting it as the greatest health care system ever:

"Historic.  Believe me.  And I know health care better than anybody because...well...maybe I know some people who actually use it.  Anyway, I've heard many people say...it's tremendous.  Everybody knows.  A lot of people say so..."

It is slowly dawning on me that the future of this planet is entirely dependent on the outcome of a phantasmagorical popularity contest being conducted entirely within the none-too-stable mind of a raving lunatic. 

And, as if that weren't enough, he's orange.

This is the stuff of nightmares.

What I really don't get is why fifty (okay, 48) apparently sane people  - elected with the full faith of their constituencies - should be going along with it.

You must have your reasons.  (I'm not sure I want to go there.)  But you do realize that when this half-assed health care plan goes haywire - and it will - everybody's going to blame you, not him.

So please act like grown-ups.  Or at least bipeds with a healthy self-preservation instinct.

Fretfully yours,

Underemployed






Dear Mr. Trump

Dear Mr. Trump,

After listening to your address to the United Nations this morning, it occurred to me that there are those that might take issue with some of your key points:
  1. Native Americans
  2. African Americans
  3. Women
  4. Historians
  5. Atheists
  6. Socialists
  7. China
  8. Countries (non-specific) who are going to hell (you know who you are)
  9. God (also non-specific)
  10. Elton John
And is it my imagination, or were you considerably more orange this morning?

Just asking,

Underemployed



Dear Mr. Trump

Dear Mr. Trump,

It's me, your old friend, and I take back every rotten thing I've ever said about you. 

I was just kidding, anyway.  My admirable colleague, Chris Collins (R-N.Y., not very bright), says you are "just a fun guy", so I'd like to think that you've enjoyed many a good laugh at my political shenanigans.  But I promise I'll never do it again.

Let's start over.  We can make this work.

For you, O Tremendous One Of Tall Towers and Huge Hands, my Republican friends and I are willing to SACRIFICE THE WELL-BEING OF EVERY PERSON IN THIS COUNTRY, as well as our collective integrity, that we may bask anew in the warmth of your orange glow.

To show our sincerity and esteem, we've cooked up a humdinger of a health care bill that we think we can ram through the Senate before September 30th.  This is our gift, and proof of rudimentary competence, to you.  So you don't feel like you have to look elsewhere for the love and appreciation you so crave and deserve.  The bill is actually even worse than any of the other ones we've tried to pull off, if that's possible, but who cares?  Only Democrats.  Oh, and any Americans who need decent health care, but only the ones north of the Mason-Dixon line who can read and/or aren't passed out on opioids. 

They'll come around.  They always do.  Even the Democrats will, if we legalize marijuana.  Trust me.  All will be forgotten and forgiven by November 2018.

I hope. 

Now please stop eating Chinese food with Nancy Pelosi.  It's more than I can bear.

Faithfully yours forever and ever, until the end of time,

And I really mean it,

Lindsey Graham



Monday, September 18, 2017

Notes on a UN Meeting

From the desk of Donald J. Trump:

Today's Agenda
  1. Meeting at the United Nations (some people are saying the biggest ever).
  2. Lunch.
  3. (Golf?)
  4. Dinner.
  5. Bedtime (ask General Kelly if I can watch TV first).

Notes to self:
  1. Start UN meeting by talking about my dick.
  2. Not my real dick (too small, illegal),
  3. But the building across the street (TRUMP WORLD TOWER),
  4. Which is very BIG, really.  Huge. Tremendous.
  5. Say some stuff about reform.
  6. Tell them about how I'm going to make the United Nations great.
  7. Like I'm making America Great Again!
  8. Give examples.
  9. Like...?
  10. Hmmm...
  11. Maybe...?
  12. Or...
  13. (Ask Mike Pence for examples.)
  14. Or just be vague (easy).
  15. Or lie (usually works).
Some HBCU people might drop by the White House.  Tell Kellyanne to keep her feet off the furniture.



Thursday, September 14, 2017

Dear Ivanka

Dear Ivanka,

I have heard about your concern that some people have created "unrealistic expectations" of you.

(I'm sorry about that.  If it makes you feel any better, I would say that you have totally met my expectations of you, namely that you hang around looking like a blonde Kardashian.  Take comfort, you do that admirably.)

But, so soon after "'Daddy, can I come with you' to North Dakota?"

Girl, what gives?

Are you telling us that you are no such "voice of reason" within the White House?  So why do you need an office (at the taxpayer's expense, I'm sure) next to the head of the National Security Council?  Why not just a daybed and your bunny slippers in Daddy's office?  With such limited influence over His Orangeness, what would you have us believe about that (well-publicized) trip to North Dakota?
  1. That you really do have influence?
  2. Or you think you do?
  3. Or you had an overwhelming and irresistible urge to visit North Dakota?
Instead of berating those poor souls you believe to have unrealistic expectations, why not show some compassion for the pitiful psyches battered to the point of being desperate enough to endow you with savior status.

However, I think your trials are at an end.  It's safe to go back to New York, where you can live happily without all those pesky expectations.  

We've got Chuck Schumer now.

Unrealistically yours,

Underemployed



Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Dear Steve Bannon

Dear Mr. Bannon,

Nice "wingman" work on Ted Cruz!  Though mean-spirited bullying is not normally my cup of tea, I do admit that watching Republicans cannibalize each other is sort of a guilty pleasure.

I have a favor to ask.  As long as you've declared war on the GOP, can I give you my wish list?

Here they are, in no particular order:
  1. Mike Pence,
  2. Steve Miller,
  3. Javanka,
  4. Donald Jr.,
  5. Donald Sr.,
  6. Kellyanne Conway,
  7. Mitch McConnell,
  8. Paul Ryan,
  9. Sean Hannity,
  10. And, of course, yourself.
There are more - many more - like the fat moron in Texas who wants to fight a duel with Susan Collins, but that's the B-list.  This is a good start.  

Please note I've left out foreign nationals.

Keep it coming,

Underemployed




Saturday, September 9, 2017

Dear Sean Spicer and Reince Priebus

Dear Sean and Reince,

Remember the game "Life" from your childhood?  Not the 1980's revamp that had squares that told you to "Recycle!", but the old, dark version that had blue pegs for boys, pink pegs for girls, and...

...Revenge.

Dudes, this is your moment.

If it were served up on a silver platter, if a leprechaun had left it at the end of a rainbow, if Santa Claus had dropped it down your chimney with a big red bow, you could not have been gifted a more golden opportunity.

Though you left Mr. Trump's employ still kissing his hem, and you've had some time to calm down, remember the Sicilians (who know) say that revenge is a dish best served cold.

Ask Scaramucci.  Who, I'm sure, is chomping at the bit.  Or Chris Christie, who's thinking that a job with CNN might be just the thing.  Both Sicilians.

As am I.  And I'm waiting.

This week, Sean and Reince, you are to report to the principal's office.  Where you get to rat on the biggest bully in the school.  This is the chance of a lifetime.

Make me proud,

Underemployed




Friday, September 8, 2017

Dear Kid Rock

Dear Kid Rock,

You've been quite the controversial little devil these days!  But I guess we all need some time in the sun, and you - being 45 years old and beginning to resemble everybody's creepy uncle - probably should get yours while the going's good.  Your cover of Ted Nugent's personality is wearing a little thin, and I'm getting the impression that it won't be enough for you to end up as a White House D-lister, reduced to taking selfies with Sarah Palin.

Why I'm bringing all this up is that, recently, you went on a rant at one of your concerts.  Upon reading some of the highlights of that rant I said to myself, "Ah!  Suburban twit!"  And I googled you, to see if I was right.  

Lo and behold, suburban doesn't even begin to describe it.  Car-dealerships Dad and a six-acre Estate.  A childhood picking apples and taking care of the family horses.  (I concede that might sound more idyllic than it actually is.)

I also found out:
  1. You have a sex-tape.  (What idiot doesn't?)
  2. One of your big hits is called, "American Badass"  (Which almost made me choke on my froyo.)
  3. You once were arrested for a brawl in a waffle house.  (Seriously?)
But none of this concerns me.  What does concern me is you want to run for president.

Please.  Don't quit your day gig.  We already have an uneducated, lunatic buffoon in the White House.  And that's not going very well.

Of course, I don't think you could be much worse than the Circus Peanut, but I really wouldn't care to find out. 

Listen.  Your loyal fans seem to have accepted the weird self-identification thing you have with Southern Good-Old-Boy Culture, so why not just stick with that?  Keep talking about women, whiskey, and Jesus and you'll be set for life, the toast of every honky tonk south of the Mason-Dixon Line.  Trust me.  Aside from having to hang out with Southern Good Old Boys, there's no downside.

Preemptively yours,

Underemployed




Tuesday, September 5, 2017

Oh, Boy!


Now...if it hits Mar-a-Lago, too, that will surely be a sign from God.



Dear Mr. Trump

Dear Mr. Trump,

For the record, if you want to replace a policy (and I think you should know this by now), you come up with the new policy first, and then discontinue the old one.

The six-month grace period is bullshit.  The bottom line is that you're going to hold 800,000 innocent people hostage until you get your "big, beautiful wall".

That's some "heart" you've got there.  I almost feel sorry for Melania.

And I hope the only wall you ever get to see has bars on it.

Unbelievingly yours,

Underemployed



Sunday, September 3, 2017

Prediction

Mr. Trump has announced the demise of the Dreamer Policy.  Well, take that, Barack Obama!  

Apparently, he figured out that the traditional Friday Night News Dump was just too predictable, so he decided to give the bad news to 800,000 people - young people and children - on a Sunday, during his proclaimed "Day of Prayer".  Probably as soon as he got out of church.

But if I were a Dreamer, I wouldn't start packing yet.  Because President Cheese Ball has given Congress six months to come up with a replacement policy. 

Which is quite a dodge. 

Think about it:
  1. The "base" will be ecstatic (because they won't understand it). 
  2. And Congress will craft some "new" policy.
  3. Which will be exactly the same as Obama's policy.
  4. With a few changes thrown in
  5. So that - somehow - rich white people will be able to make money off of it.
  6. Trump will also be ecstatic (because he won't understand it, either).
  7. And he will announce his new policy as "historic",
  8. In the Rose Garden, surrounded by his whipping boys,
  9. Who will gaze at him adoringly,
  10. While mentally calculating how much bourbon they're going to need until 2020.
That's my prediction.  


Dear Rick Perry

Dear Rick Perry,

You are one dumb bunny, aren't you?


And please take off those glasses.  I can't even imagine what you use them for.

Sincerely,

Underemployed


Conspiracy Alert!

Dear Mr. Trump,

The news was a bit unsettling this morning.  

There's Houston still breaking our hearts, and they haven't seen anything yet if the EPA continues its rather disinterested approach.  Please tell Scott Pruitt (if you can find him) to turn off  the video game and get to work.  

Then there's North Korea thumping its chest today.  I hope you're tired from your trip to Houston, and you won't do anything too strenuous when you thump back.  Maybe you could apply your "Never Met a Dictator I Didn't Like!" philosophy to finding a way to make friends with this guy.  Or just agree to designate the chest thumping as "For Display Purpose Only".

But the BIG news, and this is what you really need to worry about, is the seizure of Russian posts in DC and New York.  Are you finally getting tough on Putin?  I'm guessing no, that it was the State Department's (i.e., Jeff Sessions') idea.  There seems to be something of a search going on.  And a cover-up, too, given the column of black smoke coming from the San Francisco consulate. 

I mean, they weren't electing a pope in there.

So what is Mr. Sessions looking for?  I propose one of the following:
  1. Stuff to exonerate you.
  2. Stuff to convict you. 
Given the recent bumps in your relationship with Mr. Sessions (who might have a long memory), I'd choose #2 and take up drinking if I were you.

Think about it:  President Pence/Vice President Sessions.  It could happen.

And it would made Steve Bannon very, very happy.  

Just a heads up,

Underemployed


Saturday, September 2, 2017

Dear Sean Spicer

Dear Sean,

So, it's official.

I didn't even know it had to be made official.  Or that it would take more than a month.

Not that we won't miss you.  My husband will miss you because he thought you were hilarious.  And I have to admit that you did score some points with me when you were hiding in the bushes and that one time when you tried to convince America that "covfefe" was a secret presidential code word.

But, TBH, I'm only going to miss Melissa McCarthy.

Your dismount was a "10", though.  I particularly enjoyed,

"It has been the honor of a lifetime to serve the President..."

(This, in spite of the fact that he used Anthony Scaramucci like a can of roach spray to get rid of you.)

Well, after reading that, my first thought was, "How sad!"

And my second thought was, "He technically didn't specify whose lifetime." 

I hope I'm right.  If so, good luck in the future.  Now go home and see if you can get your wife to talk to you again.

Previously yours,

Underemployed



Friday, September 1, 2017

Dear Eric Trump

Dear Eric,

They don't let you out to play very often, for obvious reasons, so this is a real treat.  True, you were only on "The Joe Pags Show" (whatever that is), and it was only last Tuesday (more or less obliterated by Hurricane Harvey, thus any speculation about your unfortunate resemblance to a weasel went unnoticed).  But still.  With your brother in hiding and your sister struggling (her persistent association with Jared Kushner, support for the rollback of a regulation on gender wage gap data collection, and a rather creepy obsession with chairs), I miss the comic relief.

Honey, can we talk?  You seem to be a little befuddled as to why there's so much "negative media" about your Dad, even though he's such a swell guy. 

I hope to shed some light on that for you.

Let's start with a very important point you seem to be missing: Your Dad - and by extension, you and your illustrious siblings - are very, very, very rich.  Now, you may not realize this, because you don't know what it's like not to be rich, but the ubiquitous presence of bodyguards, chauffeurs, nannies, Secret Service agents, and other people substantially subsidized to be solicitous of one's well-being tends to shelter one from some of the harsher realities of life.

Such as somebody punching one's lights out when one is being an asshole.

What's an offended world to do?  What recourse does it have?  Who will speak for the powerless?  Well, that would be our friends in the media, who aren't so much being negative as reporting what is actually going on.  You think the stuff they're reporting is horrendous?  Good.  That means you're taking your pills.

The people in the media are not your Dad's bodyguards, chauffeurs, nannies, and/or Secret Service agents.  They are not being substantially subsidized (with notable exceptions) to be solicitous of his well-being.

Now, put your spoon down and pay attention:  I'm sorry that you're depressed.  We're all depressed.  But the solution isn't a Smiley Face Emoji.  If your Dad wants the negative media to stop, then he should stop saying negative things.

With me so far?

In other words, Dad shouldn't go around calling people pigs, dogs, phonies, liars, pieces of ass, bad hombres, fat, ugly, crazy, showboats, and/or disgusting.  He shouldn't threaten their wives.  And he CERTAINLY shouldn't be leading chants of "lock her up" with hordes of hillbillies. 

I mean, we're talking basic human decency here.  Please note that on any given planet outside of the Trump Galaxy, any one of the above would have this guy lying on the couch with an icepack on his nose.

It' very simple.  This is why your Dad gets bad press.  On a lighter note, you also told Mr. Pags (WTF???) that you and your beleaguered family have learned to take the negative media coverage "with a grain of salt".

No, don't.  You all deserve it.  Every bit of it.  If anything, the media is pulling punches. 

But that's a term you might not be familiar with.

Sincerely,

Underemployed



Thursday, August 31, 2017

Memo

MEMO

To:          Donald Trump

From:      Underemployed

Re:          Sheriff David Clarke


I didn't say you should hire the shithead.


Dear Milwaukee County Sheriff David Clarke

Dear Sheriff Clarke,

Stop being a Democrat.

Thank you,

Underemployed

Monday, August 28, 2017

Friday Night Sleights

Dear Mr. Trump,

Thank you for saving my marriage.

For some time now, my husband and I have spent our evenings in our rocking chairs, watching reruns of "Upstairs, Downstairs", and wondering, "Where did the magic go?"

Then YOU came along, and one of the benefits (the only one, actually) of your tenure in the White House has been Friday nights.  Now, each and every Friday night, we eagerly await the hour (which is exactly one hour after Wolf Blitzer signs off the air) when all hell breaks loose in Washington, D.C.  Et voila!  Enough excitement and drama to last us a whole week.  Along with anxiety, uncertainty, incredulity, fear and loathing.  Nuclear War Weekend was particularly stimulating.

So, thanks. 

However, I must say that last week's Friday night news dump - while impressive - was a little uninspiring.  Which is odd, given that your spectacular performance as a human spittoon managed to outshine Hurricane Harvey:
  1. You pardoned Joe Arpaio.  (Which means you finally managed to do something that even God couldn't do.)
  2. You let it leak that you'll be ending the Dreamer program next time you're in a bad mood.  (Oh, yes, you did.  I've known for quite some time now that you're one of the "leakers".)
  3. You fired Comrade Gorka.  (Won't do you any good.)
  4. You made it official that LGBT people are no longer welcome to get their asses shot off in defense of the country.  (Can the draft be far behind?)
  5. The Wall Street Journal reported that Mr. Mueller thinks that two of your homies, Mike Flynn and Peter Smith, might have been in touch - on a nefarious matter - with a mutual friend named Yorgy, who weighs 400-pounds and sits on his bed.  In Moscow.  (No kidding.)
  6. And you headed off to Camp David (I didn't know it had a golf course) during one of the biggest natural disasters in U.S. history.  (The USA cap was a nice, though somewhat unconvincing, touch.)
But none of it was - you know - funny.  Maybe I've just been missing The Mooch.

So I waited.  And was rewarded.

Lo-and-behold, like manna from heaven, along comes Felix Sater, your bosom buddy and former "senior advisor".  (Whyever did you let him print those business cards?)

I have a feeling that we're going to be hearing a lot about Mr. Sater in the future.  He has all the makings of a great Trump sideshow:
  1. He was born in Russia.
  2. He's a New York real estate developer.
  3. He has mob connections.
  4. He was convicted of stock fraud.
  5. He's an FBI informant.  And he's currently cooperating with the FBI on an international money laundering scheme.
The stuff of dreams.  Oh, this guy is going to sing like a canary.

But Mr. Sater's real claim to fame is that he once did a year in the slammer for - are you ready? - "assaulting a man with the stem of a broken margarita glass".

Top that, Anthony Scaramucci.

Eternally grateful,

Underemployed





Sunday, August 20, 2017

Spoiler Alert

This is what I see in my crystal ball:
  1. Steve Bannon will start his own media network.
  2. (Surprise.  Probably funded by Trump.)
  3. Which will be somewhere to the right of Fox News.  
  4. (Good Lord!)
  5. Then, when the coast is clear,
  6. (If ever),
  7. Trump will resign.  And he will become the star of Bannon's new blockbuster show.
  8. (Working title: "Swamp Thing".)
  9. Each week, in an interview with Sean Hannity, Trump will decimate somebody in Washington who didn't want to play with him,
  10. To the ecstatic delight of his base, who will never miss an episode.
  11. (And who will never get over Trump's political failure.  Or the Confederacy.)
  12. Eventually Trump will become the new Rupert Murdoch.
  13. (Like we need a new Rupert Murdoch.)
  14. And maybe he and Melania will be able to go out to dinner in New York again.
  15. (Maybe.)
Everybody wins.  Except for:
  1. "Non-base" America.
  2. Who, I predict, will be almost as miserable under President Pence.  
  3. Because he's almost as crazy as Donald Trump.
  4. If you don't believe me, 
  5. Ask Indiana.
This was probably the plan from the beginning, and got side-tracked because Trump liked being The President for a while.  But that's not working out so well right now.

So it's time for Trump to go back to doing what he does best:  being a somewhat goofy and supremely annoying media star.  Much more fun that being president.  Trump will again have adoring fans! fame! money! golf! Russian beauty pageants! and - as a private citizen - he can be as politically incorrect as he wants to be (which is, apparently, a lot), because nobody around him will be wearing a wire. 

And even if they were, no one would care.  A possible alternative future is that Trump and Bannon will just fade away into obscurity, a la Sarah Palin. 

We can only hope.





Friday, August 18, 2017

Dear Mr. Bannon

Dear Mr. Bannon,

Please allow me a few moments of your attention before you drink yourself into your nightly stupor.

I hear that you really weren't fired today.  Which I don't doubt for a minute.  You left voluntarily, and who can blame you?  With the White House starting to resemble the set of Dr. Strangelove, just how effective could you be?  Now you are free to wage your "war" without that pesky Constitution to worry about.

Regretfully, your choice of words could be construed as throwing gasoline on the national fire, but that's in keeping with the grand plan, I guess.  It will be interesting to see the results of your fiery journalism while waiting in checkout lines at Walgreens.  (With an eye to their customers' continued good appetites, my grocery store chooses not to sell The Enquirer.)

I have a bit of advice for you in regards to your new/old job at Breitbart.

Though I'm sure you and Mr. Trump are gleefully cooking up all sorts of nasty surprises for those you perceive to be your enemies (quite a list, I'm sure), you guys are apparently missing a very important point.  The reality is that you are SO far gone many people would consider it a fucking badge of honor to be defamed in one of your...um..."news" stories.

In fact, if you really wanted to "crush" some hapless member of the "opposition", all you would have to do is casually mention that he or she is a friend of yours.

How easy is that?

Now, back to your double Maker's Mark.  On the bright side, you can day drink again.

Bon voyage,

Underemployed

P.S.  Do you think you could take Lurch with you?  



Thursday, August 17, 2017

Dear General Kelly

Dear General Kelly,

For crying out loud, can't you give this guy KP or something?
http://thehill.com/homenews/administration/346995-trump-resurrects-pigs-blood-myth-after-barcelona-attack

Please,

Underemployed



Dear Mitch McConnell

Dear Mitch McConnell,

I find it interesting to read that you were so angered by your Fearless Leader's recent display of spectacular ignorance that you were rendered speechless for 48 hours.

Call me a cynic, but I think you were just checking the polls.

Curiously, you are suddenly being characterized as a "pro-civil rights" Republican (which is certainly news to the Americans who came of age after your midlife crisis) in the popular press.

Nice try, and you have a helluva PR team. 

However, in my own mind, nothing will ever be able to erase the many times I've seen you, since the inauguration, photographed with a smug and satisfied smirk on your face, apparently pleased with Yam Man's sundry attempts to decimate this planet.

Sorry, dude.  What goes around, comes around.  Ask Anthony Scaramucci, who - I think - finally understands karma.

And good luck in 2018.

Skeptically yours,

Underemployed



Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Underemployed Is the New Resistance

cc:  Melania Trump, Ivanka Trump 

(Sorry, ladies, I try to leave you out of this, because I think there's a possibility that you've been abused and/or brainwashed, and I don't like to rail against my sisters, but I've had it.)



Dear Mr. Trump,

White supremacy and Nazism are not "sides".  They are enemies of the United States.  Of humanity.  Of civilization.  And the people, the common citizens, who come forward to protect us from them should be hailed as heroic.

Alt-left?  Nobody's buying that.  Well, maybe Ann Coulter is buying it, but...'nuff said.

You, who cry big crocodile tears over our military, and now desecrate everything they've ever fought and died for, how do you sleep?

Call me divisive, but I have no intention of "uniting" with this evil.  Or communicating with it.  Ever. 

And that includes you.

Enough.  You need to resign.  Right now.  Though that may deprive me of the pleasure of seeing you - and your minions - going to jail, I'm willing to make the sacrifice.



Underemployed

P.S.  The eye protectors you wear during your spray tans are making you look like a big orange raccoon.






Sunday, August 13, 2017

Notice

The Donald Trump Phrasebook and Dictionary (see previous post) has been amended to include the following entry:

"others of different militant perspectives
     1.  people who object to white-supremacists and neo-Nazis; 
     2.  people who read books;
     3.  people who can count by fives all the way to a hundred;
     4.  Democrats;
     5.  and anybody else who didn't vote for Donald Trump."

Thank you, Mike Pence, for your contribution to my humble lexicon.

For the record:
  1. You look like you're made out of PVC and would get slimy in the rain.
  2. You talk like someone in the throes of an LSD flashback. 
  3. Your wife is quite right about not letting you drink when you're out of her sight.
I'll bet you spend hours watching your Big Orange Daddy in the White house (looking as vapid as possible, so as not to alarm him), whilst spinning fantasies about him having to seek political asylum amongst the Uzbeks. 

And thinking about how thrilled Americans would be to have you as their president.

You're wrong about that.  Many Americans have carefully checked the line of succession and - God help them - are trying to figure out how to get to Orrin Hatch.

BTW, Indiana doesn't miss you.  One bit.





Goodbye, Mr. Trump

Dear Mr. Trump,

After this:
http://www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/former-kkk-leader-invokes-trumps-name/vi-AApVAvZ?ocid=spartandhp

You said this:
http://www.cnn.com/2017/08/12/politics/trump-statement-alt-right-protests/index.html

And you're trying to spin it:
http://www.msn.com/en-us/news/videos/wh-adviser-both-sides-looking-for-trouble/vi-AApZ2XG?ocid=spartandhp

But it won't work. 

Watch what happens next.

Hopefully,

Underemployed




Saturday, August 12, 2017

Dear Mr. Trump

Dear Mr. Trump,

I'm feeling sucker punched.  Again.

It appears that Rex Tillerson and Nikki Haley have convinced you that your wrestling match with North Korea isn't playing well with a whole lot of people, and now you're bored, and you're figuring that maybe you can just dump the whole fiasco on Sweden or China or someone, and move on.

Well, all I can say is that was a half-a-bottle of whiskey wasted.

Probably, Mr. Tillerson and Ms. Haley - after assuring you that they love you to pieces - also pointed out that the rest of the world just considers you to be America's very own little Kim Jong Un.  A pain in the ass.  But with a shorter attention span.

Not easy to find a dog to wag these days.

However, with various investigative agencies knocking on your golf club's door, you'd better come up with something.

Fast.

And like a gift from heaven, that rascal Maduro in Venezuela has started acting up.  I'm guessing that most of people in the United States, being as clueless as a Nevada parole board about anything that goes on in South America, give a damn if you bomb Venezuela.

What's not to love?  Venezuela won't fight back.  And there's lots of cheap oil to be had, you get to play with your new toys, and you'll finally WIN something.  Maybe you could send Donald Jr. there to be president for a while.  Just 'til the heat dies down.

With Venezuela you can thump your chest as much as you want, causing paroxysms of patriotism amongst your not-too-bright base and another bump in your approval ratings, though I'm sure that your professed feelings of compassion for the people of Venezuela are as genuine as your cartoon machismo. 

I'm also sure that, up until yesterday, you wouldn't be able to pick out Venezuela on a map, given a pop quiz.

Exasperatedly yours,

Underemployed





Monday, July 31, 2017

Anthony, We Hardly Knew Ya

Dear Anthony,

I told you to stop shooting your mouth off, and now look where it got you.  Fired by a guy who puts ketchup on a steak.  And his Irish general friend.  If it makes you feel any better, your worst meal was better than anything they ever put in their mouths.

I'm sorry you got fired.  You were funny.  Not like the rest of those jamokes.

Well, take a vacation.  Write a book.  I'll buy it, promise.  And if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, you know where to find me.  Actually, you don't know where to find me. 

Ask the Russians.  They probably do.

In boca al lupo and don't be a stranger.

Your fourth cousin, once removed,

Connie Staccato




Saturday, July 29, 2017

Generally Speaking

I have heard through the grapevine that Mr. Trump's new chief of staff, used-to-be General John Kelly, "...won't suffer idiots and fools."

Um...okay.

That leaves a rather obvious question begging to be asked.



Friday, July 28, 2017

Dear Senator McCain

Dear Senator McCain,

That was heroic.  Thank you.

Respectfully yours,

Underemployed



Thursday, July 27, 2017

Hey, Anthony!

Jeez, calm down!

You're quoting Joe Paterno and talking about hanging people.  One more stupid thing out of your mouth and I'll be wondering - like everybody else - what you're putting up your nose.

Take a nap or something.

Your fourth cousin, once removed,

Connie Staccato



Monday, July 24, 2017

All Hat, No Cattle

Dear Representative Farenthold,

Unfortunately, you have come to my attention today.  Specifically, your wistfully expressed desire to settle the health care issue "Aaron Burr-style" with "female senators from the Northeast".

But only if they were "a guy from south Texas".

Wow.  So much to work with here.

I assume you are referring to Sentaor Susan Collins of Maine, Senator Shelley Moore Capito of West Virginia, and Senator Lisa Murkowski of Alaska.

For the record:
  1. I am from central Oklahoma.
  2. People from Oklahoma generally consider people from Texas - south or otherwise - to be yahoo blowhards.
  3. West Virginia and Alaska are not in the Northeast.
  4. Susan, Shelley, and Lisa are - probably - all better shots than you are.
  5. And they would have a much larger target.
Which goes to show you that grown men who allow themselves to be photographed, while attired in "ducky pajamas", alongside "lingerie models", should not be taken seriously.  http://www.nydailynews.com/news/politics/politicians-potentially-career-ending-photos-gallery-1.14806?pmSlide=1.22120

Especially by voters.

Git along, little dogie,

Underemployed 




Sunday, July 23, 2017

My Cousin Anthony

Would you believe it?  Anthony Scaramucci is my fourth cousin! 

Once removed.

Hey, Anthony!

It's me, Connie.  The last time we saw each other was at Aunt Lena's wedding and you were about six.  Congratulations, and don't get a swelled head.

I saw you on TV the other night.  Jesus, are you kidding me?  Anthony, some advice.  Stop combing your hair with a rake and put on a tie that isn't shiny!  You look like an undertaker, for chrissakes.  And stop telling everybody about all the shit you're gonna do.  That's not how Sicilians operate, in case you forgot.

And lastly, Mooch, listen to me here.  Just because you're hanging out with that big orange gagootz doesn't mean you can say stuff that isn't true.

Remember, St. Anthony can hear you.

Make me proud,

Connie Staccato
Special Correspondent
Underemployed Is the New Organic