[The following news summary has been approved by the White House Ministry of Clarifying Communications and Truthful Facts, the greatest, most truthlike communications ministry in American history.]
Contrary to the endless lies propagated by fake news sources like CNN, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, CBS, NBC, ABC, NPR, and 500 other America-hating, fake media sources, the news lately has been amazingly great. Here’s a summary of the incredibly positive top stories from the past week.
President Trump signed an Executive Order (EO) to override the Circuit Court of Appeals’ unanimous verdict, which had falsely claimed that his Muslim travel ban was a Muslim travel ban and thus unconstitutional and illegal. Trump’s EO officially bans all federal courts that disagree with any of his EOs because his awesome presidential constitutional authority is bigger than the courts’.
President Trump had an amazingly successful first phone call with Queen Margrethe II of Denmark. In a seven-minute call originally scheduled for an hour, the Queen gushed about her adoration for America’s new president and pledged her full submission, we mean, full cooperation to ensure strong diplomatic relations. And if the Danish ambassador says Trump called the Queen a b*tch when she refused to let Trump deport all our Muslims to Denmark, the ambassador’s a lying, whining loser whose wife is a 4 at best.
Author’s note: Since it’s almost Valentine’s Day, I thought I would celebrate with a true story about love and romance. Sometimes you never know when or where love will find you, as this story proves. Their names have been changed out of respect for their privacy but the story is exactly what happened. – tej]
“Pardon me, sir. But do you play bridge?” That’s how it all started. A simple question, posed by a middle-aged woman to a complete stranger. To be more specific, Beth was emboldened to ask this question in Aisle 7 of the grocery store, somewhere between the shampoo section and men’s shaving cream.
“Um, well, uh, yeah, I do”, stammered the elderly man, confused by the query and not sure why this mysterious woman was accosting him in the middle of a store. His name was Ed – a kindly fellow, well into his 80s, with a warm, jovial smile. He was just minding his own business. But Beth was not finished. “My mother plays bridge. Would you like to meet my mother sometime?”
More stammering. More confusion. Mixed with an extra helping of embarrassment. Ed was caught in a deer-in-the-headlights moment. He had no idea what the correct answer was to this audacious inquiry. So, being the gentleman that he was, and not wanting to offend this lady in Aisle 7, he replied, in his noticeably southern drawl, “I dunno. Well, um, I guess that would be ahhhlrahhht.”
Apparently by “sometime,” Beth meant NOW. Because before Ed had time to ask her name, she was on the phone with her mom. “Mom, meet Ed. Ed, meet my mom, Margaret.” And then she handed the phone to Ed and walked away. Suddenly there were now two deer caught in the headlights – and neither of them knew what to say. Margaret wanted to say, “Beth, why are you trying to embarrass me? Hang up this phone this instant!” But Margaret was raised to be polite and instead told Ed, “What a pleasure it is to make your acquaintance,” hoping this awkward situation would be over quickly, never to be discussed again.
If you’re a parent like me – or even if you’re a parent who’s not like me – at some point you’ve probably asked yourself, “Why on earth did I ever have kids?” In my case, I blame my wife.
For years, I found that same question popping into my head – roughly every four minutes – as I would endure one battle after another with my rebellious younger daughter for household supremacy. I fondly recall that satisfying period when I was in charge and my word was law. But then she turned two.
Parenting is exhausting, with long stretches during which you wonder if your children will ever show you a glimmer of respect or affection – and by “long stretches” I mean from age two to whatever age they currently are. If you’re feeling anxious that perhaps your child doesn’t love you, despite all the hard work and sacrifices you’ve made, it’s understandable. But there is hope she’ll get through her awkward, narcissistic phase, and the day will come when she shows you her devotion. Admittedly, when I say “there is hope”, I mean in the way that there’s hope my Seattle Mariners may someday make it to the World Series, or how astronomers hope someday they may find intelligent life elsewhere in the universe.
The signs are obvious if you just know where to look. Here’s how I know my daughter loves me:
Over the past 18 months a previously unknown but highly dangerous psychiatric disorder has spread across the entire United States. It is now considered by medical experts to be our nation’s most nefarious mental health problem. This malady’s scientific name is Tolerance of Racist, Unbalanced, Misogynistic Predators Disorder. But it’s more commonly known by its acronym, T.R.U.M.P.
People exposed to T.R.U.M.P. lose the ability to maintain clear, rational thinking and are unable to tell fake news from real. Scientists have discovered that T.R.U.M.P. tends to target less educated and lower income individuals. Blue collar workers concentrated in white, rural communities seem to be particularly vulnerable to this disorder.
One of the most insidious aspects of this thus-far incurable condition is that most people who have contracted it are oblivious to just how dangerous T.R.U.M.P. is to their safety and economic well-being. And the number of people afflicted has risen alarmingly in the past few months.
Warning signs you may already be exposed to T.R.U.M.P.
If you enjoy reading conspiracy theory rants on social media about Mexicans and Muslims ruining America, you may have been exposed to T.R.U.M.P. Interaction with fake news sites like Breitbart and PatriotNation.com correlate highly with contraction of this mental illness. If you have no problem with the leader of our nation grabbing women by the genitals or walking into dressing rooms of beauty pageants to ogle young, semi-nude female contestants, you may have a particularly noxious case. If you believe in the concept of “alternative facts”, consult a psychiatrist immediately.
I’m the proud owner of an extensive collection of priceless one-of-a-kind heirlooms, some of which I’ve owned since early childhood. Recently I decided to find out what they were worth. No doubt hundreds of thousands of dollars. So, when I heard that Antiques Roadshow was coming to Seattle, I knew this was my chance to determine conclusively just how valuable my rare compilation of artifacts was. The following is a transcript of my conversation with the appraiser on Antiques Roadshow.
Antiques Roadshow (ARS): Welcome to another episode of Antiques Roadshow. Good afternoon, sir. What do we have here?
Tim: Love your show. Big fan. By the way, I recently wrote this book called YOU’RE GROUNDED FOR LI-
ARS: We really don’t have time for you to shamelessly plug your book.
Tim: Why not? After all, this is my humor blog.
ARS: Pardon me? Okay, what is it you have to show me, sir?
Tim: I have this rare coin my father gave to me when I was five years old. I think it might be ancient Mesopotamian, probably from the 5th century BC. It appears to be in really good condition. What would you say it’s worth?
ARS: Well, sir. I agree this coin is in excellent condition. However, on closer inspection, it appears that it does not date quite as far back as the 5th century before Christ. I would date it, instead, to sometime around 1960. It appears to be a New York City subway token. Notice here, where it reads “Good for one fare” – in plain English.
Tim: Well, that’s disappointing. Okay, well, how about this item, then? I think it might be a rare impressionist painting. I can’t really make out what it’s supposed to be about. But my mom had it posted on our kitchen wall when I was very young. It looks to me it could be an early Monet or maybe a Van Gogh. Do you recognize the artist?
ARS: Hmmm, I’m sorry to say, I don’t, sir. But look here on the back – there appears to be some sort of signature. I glean the letters “T-I-M-M-Y” scrawled in reddish orange crayon. Does that name mean anything to you?
Tim: That’s funny. That’s my name.
ARS: Intriguing. You don’t think by any chance this might be one of your childhood finger paintings, do you? Perhaps from when you were, say, two or three years old?
Tim: Hah! I had not thought of that. But how can you be so sure it’s not something by one of the early Impressionists? (more…)
[The following news summary has been approved by the White House Ministry of Clarifying Communications and Truthful Facts, the greatest, most truthlike communications ministry in American history.] 
I’m the proud owner of an extensive collection of priceless one-of-a-kind heirlooms, some of which I’ve owned since early childhood. Recently I decided to find out what they were worth. No doubt hundreds of thousands of dollars. So, when I heard that Antiques Roadshow was coming to Seattle, I knew this was my chance to determine conclusively just how valuable my rare compilation of artifacts was. The following is a transcript of my conversation with the appraiser on Antiques Roadshow.
