Friday, May 26, 2017

Dear President Cafone

Dear Mr. Trump,

How's that little vay-cay working out for you?  Here's what we know so far:
  1. Your wife can't stand you.
  2. Maybe because you're a rat bastard?
  3. Your son-in-law is even creepier than you are.
  4. Your suits don't fit.  Not even close.
  5. French people make fun of you.
  6. They didn't make fun of Obama.  Just sayin'.
  7. His Holiness thinks you're a jerk.  
  8. And when I first saw your ladies at the Vatican, I thought "Who died?"
  9. You really like Saudi Arabians. 
  10. Probably because they give you (and your creepy kids) money.
  11. And shiny things.
  12. World peace?  Fugeddaboudit.
So you're in Sicily now, are you? Let me give you a list of Sicilian words you're gonna hear.  A lot.  I don't know how they're spelled, but they sound like this:














They all pretty much mean the same thing.  Except for the last one.  But I think the word you're gonna hear the most is cafone.  Like, you are the EMBODIMENT of a cafone.  Take, for example, what you did to the Prime Minister of Montenegro.  Smooth move, James Bond.  The jacket flick was a nice touch. 

Seriously, chooch, in the Italian dictionary next to cafone is your picture.

Hope this helps,

Connie Staccato
Sicilian-American special corresdondent

(BTW, a special "grazi'!" to the American-Italian dictionary at

Monday, May 22, 2017

Dear Governor Christie

Dear Governor Christie,

Today I read the following quote, attributed to you, in reference to Mike Flynn:

"If I were president-elect of the United States, I wouldn't let General Flynn in the White House, let alone give him a job."

Tough talk from a jet-puffed marshmallow.  So answer me this, Big Boy.  If that's true, then how come you had no problem legitimizing and enabling the goofball who did?

Just asking, because I'm not sure you realize how annoying you are,


Just So You Know

The "leaks" are coming from the Grand Poobah himself: 

Donald J. Trump

This speculation is "largely based on an accumulation of data".  Namely, since this guy has been on my radar, I've never known him to be able to keep his big mouth shut.

And I'll bet he's loving every minute of it.

Friday, May 19, 2017

Everybody Knows

I've come to the conclusion that President* Trump is at his scariest whenever he says, "Everybody knows."

Here is a partial list of what Mr. Trump thinks everybody knows:
  1. He calls his own shots.  (Who else would be this stupid?)
  2. "...largely based on an accumulation of data."  (I shudder to think.)
  3. His hair is real.  (That's a good thing?)
  4. As is He, Himself.  (Ditto.)
  5. The Russian 'story' is fake news.  (Not.)
  6. And there is no collusion.  (Speaking strictly for himself, of course - so he says - but still.  Not.)
  7. Everybody's against him.  (This worries me.)
  8. James Comey is a showboat, a grandstander, a real nut job.  And crazy.  ("I know you are, but what am I?")
  9. The system is rigged.  (Agreed.  But by whom?)
  10. He had the largest inauguration crowd, period.  (In spite of what you might have heard/seen/counted/cared about.)
  11. Jeb Bush is a wuss.  (Obviously.)
  12. Steve Harvey.
This is but a sampling.  There's much more.  Mr. Trump may not be in contact with the Russians, but he appears to be in constant contact with the little green people on his home planet.

Mr. Trump, I assure you there is one thing for sure that everybody knows:

You're toast.

Fill in the Blanks, Part 2

Donald Trump calling James Comey, "crazy" and a "real nut job" is like:

____________ calling ____________, " ____________ " and a " ____________ ".

I'm beginning to detect a pattern...

Saturday, May 13, 2017

Fill in the Blanks

Donald Trump calling James Comey a "showboat" and a "grandstander" is like:

____________ calling ____________ a "____________" and a "____________".

I've been trying for two whole days.  With a thesaurus.  And all I can think is, "Well, that's the pot calling the kettle black!"  Which means I'm in some sort of shock, or there just are no words.

You give it a go.  It's Saturday.  Buy a bottle of Stoli.  Invite some friends over.  See what you come up with.  The best entry will receive a certified letter from my lawyer saying that I don't have any business dealings with Russians, suitable for framing.

Better make that a bottle of Jack. 

Thursday, May 11, 2017

Dear Mr. Trump

Today, I was overjoyed to read that you have established a new commission:

The Presidential Commission on Election Integrity

Sounds BIG and bad.  And like you're still trying to convince yourself (and considerably more than half the country) that you really won the election.

"Presidential Commission on Election Integrity" is an oxymoron.  At best.  Coming from somebody who is desperately (and obviously) trying to keep the lid on Russia's role in handing you a "W" in 2016, I can assure you that you're just embarrassing yourself (again), something you seem to be incapable of perceiving. 

At worst I assume that the oh-so-critical voter fraud issue will just join the other smokescreens that your Congressional stooges seem so het-up about:
  1. Hillary's emails.
  2. Obama's "wiretapping" (note the quotes).
  3. White House leaks (it's Bannon, I already told you it's Bannon, he's a troublemaker).
  4. The Great Inauguration Crowd-Size Plot.
And those of us who watch congressional hearings (yes, we exist and we tend to vote), have to listen to those stooges drawl on (yeah, they're mostly Southerners) about these crucial issues, acting very tough and clever, while Russia decides what tie you're going to wear today.


Keep up the good work,


Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Dear Mr. Trump

Dear Mr. Trump,

Nothing says, "I'm guilty" like firing the investigator.

At least that's the way it is in this solar system.

Just a "head's up",


Monday, May 8, 2017

Dear Sally Yates

Dear Sally Yates,

Please run for president.

Thank you,


The Secret Handshake

Dear Mr. Kushner,

I've finally figured out why you exist.

Aside from being Ivanka's husband (whatever possessed you to let her fly coach?) and the Office of American Innovation (remember that?) and bringing pops-in-law the occasional diet Coke (seems to me more of a "Tab" guy), it has never been immediately apparent - not to me, anyway - what exactly you do in the White House.

I know now.

As I eagerly away the testimony of Sally Yates to Congress, hoping to high heaven she's got an impeachable offence up her sleeve, I've been mulling over Mike Flynn.  And Mike Flynn and you.  And Mike Flynn and you and Ambassador Kislyak.  And Mike Flynn and you and Ambassador Kislyak and - what the hell - let's throw in your sister's antics in China over the past weekend.

Admittedly, I'm a cynical sort.  And I asked my cynical self:  "Why in God's name was Jared Kushner visiting a Russian ambassador with a creep like Mike Flynn?

And it just hit me:  You're Donald Trump's SECRET HANDSHAKE!

Here's how it works:  All you have to do is show up to any given gathering, and everyone knows that Daddy Warbucks in on board.  With whatever.  Most of it illegal and/or morally reprehensible.

And you can honestly say that you only discussed the weather or exchanged Pokemon cards.

Pretty clever.  A nod is as good as a wink to a blind horse, eh?  But if a little old underemployed lady in Chicago can figure it out, can the FBI be far behind?



Sunday, May 7, 2017

Thanks, Reince!

From USA Today:

"Priebus doubts states will choose to charge sicker people more."

Oh.  Okay.  I'll sleep like a baby tonight.

Thanks, Reince!

Saturday, May 6, 2017

Dear Wisconsin

Dear Wisconsin,

The Look of Love

Please keep this in mind.

Your friend and neighbor,


Friday, May 5, 2017

I'm Sure There's a Very Good Reason for This

Dear United States Senate,

But for the life of me I can't think of what it might be.

From The Hill:

"None of the 13 senators working on an ObamaCare repeal plan in the Senate are women."


Apparently you're relying on one of two things:
  1. Women will forget what total dickheads you are and go brain-dead as soon as they enter a voting booth.
  2. You'll be senile, dead, or so fucking rich you won't care.
Here's hoping you are very, very wrong.



(the blogger formerly known as Underemployed)

Thursday, May 4, 2017


Dear Mr. Trump,

...and while we were all looking at something shiny (health care bill), you signed something euphemistically called, "The Executive Order on Promoting Free Speech and Religious Liberty"...

...which might possibly make it easier for employers with religious objections (and misogynists, and greedy bastards) not to include contraception coverage in their workers' health care plans... step closer to dystopia.

Regretfully yours,

(once known as Underemployed)

Reality Check

Dear Ivanka,

You actually think you work for a living?

Just asking,


Monday, May 1, 2017

Dear Mr. Trump

Dear Mr. Trump,

I'm sorry that my previous letter was so cranky.  My cat's been sick and requires medication every twelve hours, the administration for which I need to be sober.

Let me try again:

Congratulations on surviving the Washington Swamp for one hundred whole days!  

And what a 100 Days it's been:
  1. Russians!
  2. Nazis!
  3. Beautiful women!
  4. Lies and deceits!
  5. Betrayals!
  6. Foreign agents!
  7. Spies!
  8. Bombs!
  9. Chocolate cake!
  10. Golf!
Thank you for making my life a James Bond movie, if only vicariously (I hope).  SO much more exciting than that old-maid-in-pants Obama!

I think I'll go lie down now,