A proposal for a more civilized feeding time for bankers.As evil self-serving politicians go on a witch hunt against Goldman Sachs and other Wall Street financial types, I’ve become worried.
What if the dastardly politicos enact regulations that might curb the free marketeers from earning their paltry hundreds of millions of dollars annually?
What if there are no longer billions of bucks for bonuses, paid for by taxpayers, for losing on aggressive bets made?
What if financial lobbyists don’t enjoy unlimited budgets to grease politicians and assist in writing laws ensuring future riches?
In other words, what if stupid laws cap the opportunities for gambling, greed and gouging the little people who don’t even understand how banks make money?
After many sleepless nights, I have come to a simple solution: cut out the middlemen.
Rather than the outdated system we currently have– bankers hiring lobbyists to get politicians in the pocket and help write laws that enable financial fatcats to gamble and win big, or get paid-off by taxpayers if they lose– let’s just cut out the lobbyists and politicians and simply have taxpayers pay Wall Streeters directly.
The market would be much more efficient if we taxpayers simply tithed 5-8% of our income to our banking overlords from the get-go. Why should they have the inconvenience of waiting for our income to be taxed, then passed their way?
With my bold new proposal, these pinstripers wouldn’t even need to trump-up risky gambles or cockamamie financial instruments. They wouldn’t have to hurt their ivy league brains conjuring schemes to screw people– we’d just fork over the dough up front and acknowledge our woeful ignorance. Then the civilized cufflinked crowd could get back to more important matters, like buying estates on the Hamptons or dandruff control.
Why must we continue these pointless charades in Washington? Help save the bankers– write your congressional servants and let’s cut to the chase.
Run the red light at your own peril, lead-foot…. this monkey means business! Some cities are placing cameras on light poles and snapping pictures of cars running red lights to issue citations by mail. Then some cities are playing for keeps.
Austin, Texas is employing trained monkeys to ‘man’ light poles for keeping law-breaking drivers in line. If a motorist runs a red light, the monkey leaps onto the car and scrambles its way inside the vehicle to gouge the driver’s eyes out and spray the interior with urine.
“Some people think this watch-monkey program is a bit extreme,” said Officer Terry Inklurd, “but if people just obey the traffic signals, there won’t be any issues. You’ll be able to keep your vision and not have your car smell like monkey pee–– which has an awful stench. Not even those pine tree air fresheners can mask monkey musk.”
NBC is rumored to be developing a new series called “Law & Order: Traffic Monkey Division.”
It’s looking like strike eight in the love department for Larry King. Rumors have surfaced that the 76-year old gab show host and his 50-year old bride, singer Shawn Southwick, are soon to be divorcing, making it Larry’s eighth failed marriage to seven women. Why is the couple breaking up? Allegedly, Larry was getting all Tiger Woodsy with his sister-in-law, Shannon Engemann, while wifey-poo may have been rounding the bases with their son’s little league coach. Yow!Old dog learns new tricks, wife to wave bye-bye in car-car.In a Lint Screen exclusive, we reveal the searing confrontation that took place in the King household on April 15th when Larry sat waiting at the kitchen table as wife Shawn entered the house from the garage.
LK: Shawn, welcome, it’s great to see you. Come have a seat, let’s talk.
SS: Larry, is my sister here?
LK: No, no she isn’t. Why do you ask, babycakes?
SS: I smell that whorish French perfume she always wears. You’re not wearing it, are you?
LK: Of course not, sugarlips. Let’s talk about your day, snoogums. If you could describe your day in one word, would it be ‘magnificent’ or ‘wondrously fabulous.’
SS: Larry, why’s there lipstick on your forehead and neck?
LK: Remarkable your powers of perception, love-dove. I swear, you could be a C.S.I. agent with your observational skills. Let me just say here and now, that you are, without a doubt, the most incredibly beautiful woman on planet Earth. In fact, you make all other women look like garbage. They’re festering, stinking trash, compared to you. They are not worthy to be in the same gender with one as beautifully captivating as you, buttercup, and…
SS: Larry, what’s that on your arm?
LK: My arm?
SS: Yes– look, that!
LK: I shouldn’t be showing so much flesh. Between the sexy suspenders and my alluring flesh, I could be accused of babe-baiting. Let me roll down this shirt cuff. The shirt’s a Geoffrey Beene wrinkle free pinpoint, which is 60% cotton for comfort and 40% Polyester for easy care. There’s no better value for quality…
SS: Oh no you don’t– you’re not coving that up. Roll the sleeve up so I can see…
LK: What is it about the words ‘shirt sleeves’ that’s so fun to say? Have two words ever been made more for each other: shirt, sleeve— it’s like a poem. I love them!
SS: Give me your arm– aha! Just as I suspected, it’s a tattoo.
LK: Is it just me or is everyone getting ink these days?
SS: You have a tattoo that says “I heart sleeping with Shannon.” Larry, are you having an affair with my sister?
LK: For my money, there is no jealousy quite like sibling rivalry. It drives siblings crazy…
SS: You are, aren’t you?! You’re sleeping with Shannon! You smell like her, you’re wearing her lipstick and you have a tattoo with her name.
LK: In my opinion, the concept of ‘innocent until proven guilty’ is the backbone of our democracy and it’s what makes America great, and the country I’m proud to call home.
SS: Unbelievable. Larry, how could you?
LK: Well, look at the time. I’m afraid this day is done and I’d like to thank you for spending some time with me. I hope you’ll join me again tomorrow when my guest will be…
The angry protestors across America are being counted in their vocal protest of the U.S. Census that is underway nationwide.Count ’em– two barrels!“I don’t see no reason no government needs to know nothing about me and my family,” said a visibly agitated E. Granger Bycross of Alamo, Georgia. “Taint none of their business how many kittens I got in my litter. They come to my house to cipher, I’ll let ’em count two– double barrels of buckshot!”Count on Chester Wheelie to not be counted by U.S. Census.
Chester Wheelie of Keene, New Hampshire, is also one angry American. “We answer that census, next thing you know the federal government will be sending radio waves to infect our brains making us gover-zombies, begging to pay more taxes, have more socialist entitlement programs and requesting Fluoride in our drinking water. I ain’t falling for it! You can tell the government to keep their greedy hands off my Social Security and Medicare checks, what’s mine is mine. End of discussion.”
Helen Wilmunk of Ainsworth, South Dakota refuses to complete her census form because she thinks many of the questions are too difficult to answer.
“They want to know how many people we got living here. Well, there’s me and Darrel, and the kids, Stinky, Bubba and Weasel– but we also got six dogs and three cats who are like kin to us, and sometimes those dogs sleep outside. Now how we supposed to answer that trick question? It’s like those math books in school asking about two trains leaving Chicago going different speeds and we’re supposed to figure out when the dadgum trains will arrive in St. Louis. Well, I wouldn’t answer those trick questions either because don’t no one take trains these days. They’d just fly or drive!”Stinky, Bubba & Weasel are tough to categorize.And Jerry Fuddmork of Bald Knob, Arkansas is refusing to answer his census on the basis of what is done with the information. “The government says they need to know all this personal information so they can plan for schools, libraries, roads and other social services. Well, I don’t cotton to such socialistic notions. I don’t want my tax money going to build some road for illegal aliens to drive on. And schools and libraries are just a complete waste of money, what with so much you can learn on the television. Why, if I wanted to be a doctor, all I got to do is watch ‘House’— that lanky guy with the limp is cagey as can be. Ain’t no school going to teach you how to be like House– he’s the rascal you want to learn from, not some stupid school!”
Do Tiger’s new texts prove he’s Hubby of The Year? Could be. The guy’s a gem!Tiger Woods has been combatting a flurry of bad press concerning the explicit text messages he allegedly sent porn star Joslyn James over a nine week period last year during their alleged torrid sexual affair. In a surprising development, just before the Masters Golf Tournament, someone in Tiger’s inner circle of confidants has leaked a new set of texts allegedly sent by Mr. Woods to an unnamed person that may prove the world’s greatest golfer is a lovesick husband devoted to his wife– not some perv creepazoid. The anonymous source said Tiger would be greatly upset if these texts were made public, but, the associate feels the truth is more important than Tiger’s fragile feelings.
Here are the newly released texts.
Tiger:Sent: 1:06 PM 8/4/2009:
Been thinking a lot about breakfast cereals. Think I like Frosted Flakes best– could be the whole Tiger feeling bro-love for Tony The Tiger LOL Froot Loops is a close second.
Tiger:Sent: 1:07 PM 8/4/2009:
Changed my mind. Froot Loops is da bomb. Frosted Flakes make my teeth hurt. Too sweet!
Tiger:Sent: 1:08 PM 8/4/2009:
Who am I kidding? I mix Frosted Flakes WITH Froot Loops. I call it “Tiger’s Tony The Tiger Froot Loopty-Doo Mash-Up!”
Tiger:Sent: 2:03 PM 8/4/2009:
I love my wife so much;-) I would never ever cheat on her. EVER!
Tiger:Sent: 8:16 PM 8/5/2009:
Cantalope or honeydew for morning melon? Cantalope for me. But not if it’s too ripe. If it’s mushy, it’s in the garbage. Tiger don’t play that. End of discussion.
Tiger:Sent: 10:06 AM 8/10/2009:
I sure do love my wife a whole bunch. Gonna send her flowers, candy, box of diamonds and a luxury SUV with premium sound system. Maybe even a crate of Omaha Steaks!
Tiger:Sent: 7:06 AM 8/14/2009:
Was thinking about that guy Marconi who invented the radio, and how close his name was to ‘macaroni’, but he didn’t invent THAT cuz everyone knows it was done by Yankee Doodle Dandy sticking a feather in his hat and everything. Hey, I love my wife!
Tiger:Sent: 5:43 PM 8/16/2009:
Before I putt, I like to think about how much my wife means to me:-} Man, I love that woman! Makes me wanna write poetry…
Tiger:Sent: 9:11 PM 8/20/2009:
Fidelity is important in sound systems and marriage. I’m as true fidelity to my wife as possible, and that ‘sounds’ like the key to a long, successful, divorce-free marriage{:-)
Tiger:Sent: 2:41 AM 8/23/2009:
Having trouble sleeping. Miss my wife. Sting was right– the bed’s too big without her. I love my cupcake so much it hurts when I’m not with her:-)(
Tiger:Sent: 10:36 PM 8/28/2009:
Played golf today and found three balls– almost new!!! I love when that happens, but not as much as I love my wife:-)
Tiger:Sent: 7:12 PM 9/2/2009:
Forgiveness is the most important quality anyone can have, and I married a woman who is rich in forgiveness. It’s what makes her so lovable to me– her ability to forgive anything I may do no matter what! She’s got a huge forgiving heart and I really love her ;-})
Tiger:Sent: 10:30 PM 9/8/2009:
I hope no one EVER reads these text messages… they’re kind of embarrassing cuz they make me sound pretty head over heels for my terrific wife who I love so much. But what the heck, I am! I love my wife, love my wife, love my wife and that’s the TRUTH!
Tiger:Sent: 7:51 PM 9/14/2009:
Did I mention I love my wife? I do, I really do and would NEVER chase skanks because I want to stay married to my wonderful wife and not go through an expensive, messy divorce. These texts are on the level. Seriously– straight up on the level.
Bunny lays an egg for commie little boy.Fortunately for little Frankie Urbeenor, he sleeps on a very absorbent pillow. The child cried torrents last night after his visit to The Easter Bunny at the East Waverly Heights Mall in Port Arthur, Texas.
Easter is Frankie’s fifth favorite holiday, after Christmas, his birthday, Halloween and Thanksgiving, so he was looking forward to spending some quality time with Mr. Cottontail. Instead he was subjected to an angry political rant from a bunny who is also a part time Tea Party zealot.
Spectators reported the following exchange took place between Frankie and the Easter Bunny:
BOY: Hello, Easter Bunny!
E. B.: Hello, little boy– what’s your name?
BOY: Frankie. Frankie Urbeenor.
E. B.: Well, Frankie, I suppose you’re happy that Obama and his government thugs have taken over the entire freakin’ health care system.
BOY: Huh?
E. B.: Sure, what do you care, you’re a little kid and you don’t have to pay taxes so just let me work my freakin’ butt off and support little freeloaders like you so you can get sick and have pre-existing conditions, then use death panels to kill my grandma in Beaumont.
BOY: Ummm, I don’t know what you’re…
E.B.: Everyone wants a hand-out, don’t they? You’re all a bunch of socialists. The free market is too tough on you so you want big brother government to spoon feed you entitlement programs, don’t you?
BOY: I’m scared.
E.B.: Of course you are, kid. We should all be scared. The country’s being run by the antichrist, who wasn’t even born in this country, and he wants the government to butt into every aspect of our lives, then try to take away my 85 firearms and arsenal of explosives I have for protection.
BOY: I just want a chocolate bunny for Easter…
E.B.: Sure you do. Chocolate bunnies, jelly beans, marshmallow chicks, silver dollars and PlayStations, too– you want everything! And you want it all for free, don’t you? And why not, it’s no skin off your nose– just ask, ask, ask and expect others to deliver it with a pretty bow to your door. Well, listen up, kid-o, there ain’t no Santie Claus and you can’t have Christmas every Easter. You want a chocolate bunny, you work for it. There’s no freebies in life, buddy boy!
BOY: I want to go home, mister, please…
Fifty-six minutes later, paramedics used the jaws of life to remove the boy from the angry Kung-Fu grip grasp of the Easter Bunny, who was tagged with tranquilizers and taken away in soft handcuffs, designed not to chafe his fur.
Easter may soon drop from the #5 position of Frankie’s favorite holidays.
