On behalf of the people of Canada, we would like to welcome you to our country. We hope you’ll enjoy your stay. We heard about your recent election, and, frankly, we’re starting to worry about your nation’s apparent complete psychological breakdown. What exactly were you folks thinking? You were doing so well these past eight years with President Obama. He seemed like an awfully nice fellow. We’re not quite sure what has caused your country to go off the rails, but as we watched your presidential election results, the only plausible conclusion we Canadians can come to is that millions of your fellow Americans have gone utterly bonkers.
Oh sure, for a while there, we’ll admit, we were highly amused watching your presidential contest, featuring a carnival of candidates, from a narcissistic billionaire / Reality TV show host, to a rightwing evangelical Texan universally disliked even by his own party’s colleagues in the Senate, to a prominent neuro-surgeon who believes Egypt’s pyramids were built to store grains, not pharaohs. Where on earth did you find such a zany cast of characters? But we figured that eventually your countrymen would come to their senses and realize that perhaps the most important criteria for selecting your next head of state should be something more substantial than the size of the candidate’s privates or the relative hotness of their spouse. Apparently we were wrong. And for that, we deeply apologize.
I want to apologize. Recently I’ve learned that remarks I’ve made in previous humor articles have offended some readers. To Mr. Arnold Halasz of Budapest, Hungary, whom I appear to have sent completely over the edge, I apologize for my snarky comment that in Hungary, the only three foods you’ll find are pickles, cabbage, and pickled cabbage. I completely failed to mention cauliflower, and that one is totally on me. Thank you, Mr. H., for all your letters. I should mention, however, that your most recent death threat came postage due. Don’t forget to use two 1st class stamps next time.
So if I have offended any of you the way I appear to have done to the entire nation of Hungary, let me extend an olive branch by way of apology in the hopes that someday you might find it in your heart to forgive me.
To Edna Weppler of Racine, WI, who was offended by my post A side by side comparison of our Savior vs. the Apple iPad, I apologize. I absolutely respect your deeply held religious convictions. I was not trying to imply the iPad is better than your Lord and Savior. I was simply trying to point out that it has a much faster operating system than Jesus, with more advanced graphics, comes with way more free apps, and has a more forgiving interface.
To Maria Solbein of Hornbeck, LA, who was offended by my post Women, help end discrimination against men. Get struck by lightning, I apologize. I appreciate that from your perspective it seemed I was arguing that men face more discrimination than women in our society. Your exhaustive list of 342 studies documenting longstanding patterns of discrimination against women in the workforce, politics, and society was, I must say impressive – not to mention exhausting. But I stand by my claim that far more men than women suffer from male pattern baldness. So let’s just agree to call it a tie, okay?
To Angus O’Shaughnessyof Halifax, Nova Scotia, who was offended by my post Seven myths about our neighbors to the north, I apologize for my insensitivity to your great nation and for my callous stereotypes about your country being totally ice-covered for 10 months of the year, along with my egregiously flippant comment that most Canadians live in igloos and leave their elderly to die alone on ice floes. In doing some additional research, I realize now I meant to say Norway, not Canada. I promise to print a correction in the next issue. (more…)
Hi, everybody. Hope you’re having a super day. Have you been following the news? If not, I’ll let you in on some late-breaking news. Our world might not be around much longer.
You see, experts now lay the odds of an imminent cataclysmic event at somewhere between 75 and 90%. By imminent, I mean possibly next month. And not just one “event” – a tidal wave of cataclysmic events. So you might want to get prepared for the Final Countdown. No hurry. If you’re in the middle of something important – like watching pro bowling or pruning your rose bushes– then by all means, finish that up. We can chat about this later.
But when you have a few minutes, you might want to consider making just a few minor preparations for when the end of civilization as we know it arrives. To be honest, I never gave much thought to the impending Apocalypse until lately. You see, I live near Seattle. Recently, the New Yorker Magazine posted an article that predicts a 9.1 or greater earthquake that is apparently long overdue, according to seismologists. “The Big One”, as they call it, will be so devastating that “It will leave Seattle and most of western Washington in ruins. Everything west of Interstate 5 will be toast.” Hard to spin this story in a positive way – unless you happen to live in Boise, Idaho, in which case you may soon become the owner of oceanfront property.
Then CBS 60 Minutes reported that the odds are over 80% for a major terrorist strike in the next three years which would take down huge portions of our electrical grid, leaving vast regions of the country without power for months. No biggie – seeing as I installed solar panels last year.
Add to these worries rumors that North Korea’s Kim Jong-un threatens to launch a nuclear strike against the US, a probable terrorist suitcase nuclear bomb attack, and Fox News’ prediction of the looming Zombie Apocalypse, and well, the near future is not shaping up like an episode of Happy Days.
I’m 61 years old. You can’t fool me with platitudes like “60 is the new 45.” Let’s face it. The man in the mirror is looking very rough around the edges – and frankly, he’s looking pretty rough everywhere inside the edges, too.
In recent years, I’ve become increasingly aware that my body is starting to falter. Nowadays my knees creak melodiously. When I get out of a chair, I have to think about how much thrust will be needed to propel me to a vertical posture. I’m losing my hair where I want it and gaining it in places I don’t. And my eyebrows grow in every direction but straight. When did that start happening?
In a series of futile efforts to stave off getting old, I’ve employed a variety of desperate measures. I can’t recall how many times I’ve tried dieting – mainly because my memory isn’t that good anymore. Every diet I try seems to end at the bottom of a guilt-ridden bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream at 11 o’clock at night, with me swearing I’ll start my diet tomorrow. I’ve tried working out on the treadmill, swimming and cycling, but these all suffer from a major drawback: they all require effort. I’ve tried herbal supplements like ginkgo biloba to improve my memory, but I always forget whether I took the pills that day or not. I’ve even tried self-proclaimed miracle drugs like Dyzastra. You name it. I’ve tried it. None of them have worked. I still feel like I am aging by the minute.
I have searched for the Fountain of Youth for years with no success – until now. I’m excited to share that I’ve finally found the secret to feeling instantly 20 years younger. And it did not require any expensive cosmetic surgery, painful ab crunches, uncomfortable fat-burning, vibrating belt, or Australian-method Pilates classes. I didn’t have to drink Kale smoothies, which, no matter how many blueberries you add, still taste like, well, Kale smoothies. No hair transplants. No hip replacement. Nothing that my doctor has been nagging me to change about my daily fitness habits for the past fifteen years. No, my solution was far simpler and pain-free.
Donald Trump is a great American. In the past nine months, he has done a masterful job of uniting millions of Americans from all different backgrounds – admittedly mostly by uniting them in their deep hatred and fear of Donald Trump. But that’s simply because they’ve not gotten to know him the way I have. If only he had more TV exposure, then people would see the light.
I know all about the trash talking dished at The Donald. Unflattering slurs – like he’s a narcissist, a racist, a sexist, that he often insults people using coarse language unsuitable for a serious presidential candidate, that he lashes out at anyone who dares say a negative word about him, that he has a hair-trigger temper, that he is unpredictable and mentally unstable, and that he flaunts his wealth every chance he gets. And these are just his supporters talking. Don’t get me started about his detractors.
But these attacks are unfair. The Donald Trump I know is one to admire. Listen to my heartfelt defense of the man, who, God willing, will be the next – and quite possibly LAST – president of this great nation.
CLAIM: TRUMP IS A NARCISSIST.
Unfair. So he has a healthy opinion of his own point of view. So he harps on how he’s greater than everybody else. So he flaunts all the properties he owns worldwide. So he brags about how tough he is and how he’s the best deal maker since Thomas Jefferson engineered the Louisiana Purchase from France. So he likes to blow his own TRUMPet. Does that make Trump a narcissist? I happen to know for a fact that you bragged to your dad about your third place ribbon in your middle school science fair. Do you see me calling YOU a narcissist, you hypocrite?
Did it ever occur to you that just maybe underneath all of Trump’s bravado, there is a fragile little boy begging to be loved? That all of his braggadocio may be masking the excruciating pain of not having any friends as a young boy – or ever? No, I didn’t think so. You’re so heartless.
Greetings, American Refugees,
I want to apologize. Recently I’ve learned that remarks I’ve made in previous humor articles have offended some readers. To Mr. Arnold Halasz of Budapest, Hungary, whom I appear to have sent completely over the edge, I apologize for my snarky comment that in Hungary, the only three foods you’ll find are pickles, cabbage, and pickled cabbage. I completely failed to mention cauliflower, and that one is totally on me. Thank you, Mr. H., for all your letters. I should mention, however, that your most recent death threat came postage due. Don’t forget to use two 1st class stamps next time.
I’m 61 years old. You can’t fool me with platitudes like “60 is the new 45.” Let’s face it. The man in the mirror is looking very rough around the edges – and frankly, he’s looking pretty rough everywhere inside the edges, too.
Donald Trump is a great American. In the past nine months, he has done a masterful job of uniting millions of Americans from all different backgrounds – admittedly mostly by uniting them in their deep hatred and fear of Donald Trump. But that’s simply because they’ve not gotten to know him the way I have. If only he had more TV exposure, then people would see the light.
