Friday, July 22, 2016


Some news stories are so sad that they're funny. And as with a good Laurel & Hardy gag, you laugh even as you know exactly what's going to happen.

Get out your SPF 70 bullet-proof vest.
Charles Kinsey, a social worker in Miami, was just doing his job, watching over his autistic client. The unnamed client decided it was time to sit in the middle of the street and play with his toy truck.

Let's stop right there. If this happened in mid-town Manhattan -- which it wouldn't because there's too much traffic, but let's say it did -- the first thing people would do is point their cellphones at the guys. There wouldn't be any need to call the authorities, since mid-town is already jumping with cops, some packing serious, post-9/11 heat. 

But the good residents of Miami, being more likely to get hit by the zika virus than either people playing in the middle of the road or terrorists, aren't used to events like this. So instead, an eagle-eyed do-gooder reported that someone was trying to kill himself, presumably with a toy truck. 

Sizing up a psychologically-challenged person with a knickknack and a black guy armed only with his arms, the cops immediately took cover behind telephone poles, and ordered the two men to lie down and put their hands up. 

For God's sake, somebody take out those desperadoes!
Charles Kinsey was in a jam. First, he had to take the cops seriously. (Did I mention his skin color?)  However, he also takes his job seriously. 

Let's let the news site tell the rest of the story:

Whew. Thank God. For a moment, I thought that Miami cops were trained to stop suicides by shooting them first. 

But back to the cop's explanation: I don't know why I shot him. Let me give you three tries, Officer Skippy. 

  1. What's the opposite of armed?
  2. What's the opposite of white?
  3. What's the opposite of woman?

Whenever a cop is involved in a case like this, many on the right immediately do a Google search to find if the victim had a rap sheet -- as if that's excuse enough to fire away. Many on the left immediately start shutting down traffic in cities around the country. Never the twain shall meet.

Here, then is a clear-cut case where both sides can stand together and say This is not right. But as of this writing, I hear of no planned protests from the left; no sense of outrage or at least sorrow on the right. The former is too busy throwing urine at members of the Westboro Baptist Church in Cleveland, while the latter is calling for Hillary Clinton's death either by firing squad or the noose

Protesters throwing piss in public, and politicos feeling no compunction about calling for a candidate's death: Welcome to the United States, 2016. And with the popularity numbers of Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump at record-breaking lows, things will only get worse no matter who's elected. Here's another nice mess we've gotten ourselves into!


Thursday, July 21, 2016


It's tempting to say "Now I've seen everything," but after learning about people who dress up as dogs or cats for kicks, I know that would be a fool's errand. For all you youngsters out there, here are... the Plushies!:

"Come on, baby, you know you
want it."
As a child, I loved my stuffed Bosco Bear. Loved him so much that I slept with him on a nightly basis for a year or so. But I did not have sexual relations with that teddy bear, Mr. Bosco.

As a result, some would call me a plushophobe. In fact, because of Bosco's sexual identity, I might even be considered a homophobic plushophobe. Therefore, the thinking would undoubtedly go, I am, in actuality, a repressed homoplushiesexual. To quote my late mother, I cannot win.

Because of my paternalistic sexism -- not to mention the aforementioned use of vibrators -- I figured that plushophilia was strictly a woman-centric thing. But I need to beg forgiveness for my ignorance, since there are plenty of men who are in a committed, loving relationship with their stuffed animals. 

One male plushie describes it as "funner" than sex with a human, perhaps because you don't have to buy them dinner first. If nothing else, the animals don't care if you lack the grammatical skills of a third-grader.
Which do you find more strange:
a woman having sex with her
teddy bear, or a teddy bear who's
turned-on by tattoos?

Another male advises newcomers to “add a zipper, a good 10 inches”. Sorry, guy, if you feel the need to give an exact length, you're hiding something.

Just so we have our facts straight, plushophobes should not be confused with furries, who have sex while dressed as stuffed animals. Once again proving my societal-caused repression, I've always had sex naked (much to the distaste of many women). 

It's now up to scientists to discover whether plushies are born that way or made a choice. Until we find out, we at least know that you don't have to be married to a Kardashian to have sex with over-stuffed animals. 


Tuesday, July 19, 2016


Republicans were forced to replace signs reading WHITE ELEVATORS at Cleveland's Quicken Loans Arena, the site of the GOP convention.

GOP spokesman Brad Lanes was quick to deny any hint of segregation, telling reporters, "Black delegates are free to take the service elevator of their choice."

In other GOP news, Melania Trump's speech last night plagiarized passages from the one delivered by Michelle Obama at the 2008 Democratic convention.

An aid for Mrs. Trump denied the charges, adding that "Melania and her staff had been working hard on writing a rousing original speech since four score and seven weeks ago."

Mick Jagger, 73, is expecting his eighth child with American ballerina Melanie Hamrick, 29.

Scientists at Oxford quickly announced they were ending their attempts to clone dinosaurs, describing it as "redundant."

In related news, Ronnie Wood, 69, has become the father of twins with his 38 year-old wife.

Asked to comment, bandmate Mick Jagger said, "That's disgusting. I've never had sex with a senior citizen, and neither should Ronnie."

Joshua Lee Long of Penn Township, PA, was arrested for keeping a stolen human brain in a jar. Long admitted to police that he used the embalming fluid inside the jar to soak his marijuana. 

Lee told authorities that he wanted to have at least one brain put to good use.

Los Angeles police are investigating former Playboy playmate Dani Mathers for taking a "bodyshaming" photo of an older woman showering at an L.A. Fitness gym, and posting it on Snapchat.

Meanwhile, police in Penn Township, PA, have asked Mathers to retrieve her brain from Joshua Lee Long's jar.


Monday, July 18, 2016


Memo to idiots of the male sex: If your bride is making out with her ex-boyfriend a minute after you've exchanged "I do's", don't continue to Niagara like nothing happened. Otherwise, you'll wind up dead in your living room clutching a gun that's been wiped clean of prints and no powder burns on your hands. Thank Blonde Ice for that bit of advice.

"Darling! I was only whispering into
his mouth!"
Claire Cummings has barely gotten through the honeymoon phase of her honeymoon when her husband, Carl Hanneman, discovers her writing a love letter to her ex, newspaper reporter Les Burns. Faster than you can say "No-good dame," Carl returns to their home in San Francisco with the letter in his pocket and divorce on his mind.

If Les was smart, he'd drive straight into
a brick wall.
Eager to collect an inheritance, Claire pays a pilot $500 to fly her to Frisco on the qt, where she knocks off Carl and returns to the honeymoon bungalow in one night. When Claire later returns to Frisco for good, she sweet-talks Les Burns into picking her up at the airport with the ol' my-husband's-gone-to-work-in-New-York routine. 

They're greeted at home by hubby's corpse on the floor. In short order, the police suspect foul play, and zero in on Les at the culprit. He loved her, right? And hated Carl for marrying her, right? And Claire was 400 miles away the night of the murder, right? 

Al and Les exchange the fine art of the
Just to make things more interesting, the oily Al Herrick, a newspaper colleague of Les', latches onto the same angle -- mainly because he was Claire's boyfriend back in the day, too. It's harder to figure out who has the worst taste in lovers, Claire or the blockheads who fall for her. (The only other things all her boyfriends have in common are thin mustaches and baritone voices brought about by a couple dozen Pall Malls a day.) James Griffith plays Al like a cross between Franklin Pangborn and Clifton Webb, only hetero, which is just as bizarre as it sounds.

Every 40s drama needed one scene
where one person looked away
from the other during a
Claire eventually racks up two more victims -- the pilot who flew her to Frisco to kill her husband, and her new fiancee, Congressman-elect Stanley Mason (which must make Blonde Ice the only bad-girl noir featuring an assassination). And in a thoughtful gesture, she tries to pin the latter on Les Burns. Only through the machinations of psychiatrist Dr. Kippinger does Claire finally break down and confess -- leading to yet another, climactic killing. Her trigger finger must have callouses.

For its meager pedigree, Blonde Ice is rich in b-movie dialogue, tossed about like a time-bomb with a short fuse. When Les discovers that Claire is engaged to Stan, he snorts, "Claire Cummings Hanneman Mason. If this keeps up, you won't be able to get your
Make that two scenes.
initials on your silverware!" 

And a moment later, he gets another classic line when she tries wrapping him around her deadly little finger: "You're like a poison. Take a little bit and you're finished. But too much becomes an antidote." I hear ya, brother, I hear ya.

Only the shrink seems to be concerned that Claire
is making ready with the revolver. Maybe that's why
he's a shrink.
If Claire's character were a man, he'd be immediately pinned as a creepy villain whose sorry end can't come soon enough. However, as played by Leslie Brooks, she exudes a sick sexiness that make men deaf, blind, and stupid -- proof that women have it easier than men.

What was it about janes like these that made movies like Blonde Ice so popular? For male ticket-buyers, it was a safe way to witness revenge on every dame that did them dirt. For women, they got to live vicariously through a totally uninhibited character, while enjoying the anti-heroine's punishment as a salve to their own guilt.

But maybe Al Herrick puts it best: "I know that Claire Cummings is a nut if I ever saw one." Yeah, but you slept with her, pal.


Friday, July 15, 2016


At my previous job, we had a CD featuring all the different themes used by NBC News. There were pieces of music that were to be used going in and out of commercials during important breaking news. 

These music clips had subtitles like "Sad", "Mournful", and "Hopeful". They were used to cue the viewer at home how they should feel while watching, oh, the aftermath of a terrorist event. The other networks use similar music packages for their news programs, making it seem like we're watching just another prime time drama.

No wonder why I got out my chips and salsa when I tuned into MSNBC yesterday. It was time for the "Nice, France" episode of The Terrorism Show.

Like any commercially-sponsored broadcast, some restrictions apply. Host Brian Williams advised us they were deliberately blurring or even banning certain images for the sake of "the little ones" (his words) who might be toddling into the living room.

As I browsed around the news networks' coverage, it became clear that all of them thought everybody was a little one. "Tell, don't show" seems to be the overriding directive coming from the control booth. 

I want to see what's going on, partly for personal reasons. Right now, I have a daughter taking a study-abroad class in Rome. She's 431.5 miles away from this week's carnage -- not next door, but too close -- and won't be returning home for another eight days. What is there to do for now?

Oh, I know. The favorite double-act offered up by politicians, news anchors, and religious leaders everywhere: thoughts and prayers. That always works. 

Thoughts and prayers. Say it often enough and it sounds like the name of an Eastern European butler. Thawtzan Prahers, at your service. 

Thawtzan, make all those people caught in the carnage feel better. 

Yes sir. By your command.

For all the time Thawtzan Prahers is called to his duty, though, nothing seems to change. Why do we keep that guy around anyway? I always wind up having to get the chips and salsa myself.

I've long given up on the idea of prayers doing their job, but I do have a thought I carry around in preparation for times like this. I offer it to you with the hope that it provides the same kind of solace -- make that numbness -- that it does me: Always think the worst of the world, and it will never let you down.

Thoughts and prayers, baby.


Thursday, July 14, 2016


The Fresno Police Department's internal affairs unit is investigating the death of Dylan Noble, 19. Noble, unarmed, was shot four times by police officers, twice while lying wounded on the ground. 

Police Department spokesman Brad Lanes told reporters, "As you can see by the suspect's photo, this proves that Fresno cops don't discriminate when it comes to recklessly shooting suspects. Black or white, they're all the same to us."

Even more shocking to investigators was that there were 188 kids in Texas who actually went to school.

The researchers said this explained Milton Berle and Bob Hope.

"And by balance the ticket," said Trump spokesman Chester Hooten, "I mean somebody whose hair color and skin tone are actually found in nature."

Clinton thanked Sanders before signalling to her sharpshooters that it was safe to put down their weapons.


Wednesday, July 13, 2016


The National Rifle Association has been in the news a lot lately -- mainly because there seems to be a gun-related massacre every time you have to clip your fingernails or change your razor blade. It's gotta be tough belonging to the most reviled organization that doesn't have "Klan" or "Nazi" in its name. 

Ready, aim, drink!
Maybe that's why there's The NRA Wine Club. It sounds like a joke, but so did the NRA when claiming the real problem with Sandy Hook was that none of the teachers carried guns. And look what happened afterwards -- an increase in membership by 8,000 a day. That, friends, is marketing!

Much of the anti-gun side pictures NRA members as Schlitz-swilling, psych meds-abusing yahoos. So knowing that many gun owners drink out of stemware rather than funnels attached to tricked-out trucker hats will probably drive much of the Upper West Side to pour their entire Gew├╝rztraminer collection down their Franke sinks in revulsion.

This is what a spokesman
looks like.
This is what the Plague looks like.
What the Wine Club lacks, however, is the right spokesman. Back in the day, Italian Swiss Colony had the friendly "little old winemaker." The NRA, however, boasts the choleric Wayne LaPierre, who possesses the warmth of a rabid raccoon that hasn't eaten in a week. 

If LaPierre had his way, the NRA would probably want a 28th amendment allowing everybody to drink as much NRA wine as they wanted before driving to the nearest gun range. And he has enough of dead presidents for living congressmen to get it passed.

Still, the NRA can make up for this louse-infested rodent in human form by coming up with wines with catchy-sounding names. 
  • Ricochet Ros├ę
  • Bullseye Burgundy
  • Shotgun Chardonnay
  • Bullet-Piercing Bordeaux
  • Chenin Blanks
Ready, aim, drink! And remember -- the only person who can stop a bad drunk with a gun is a good drunk with a gun. 


Thursday, July 7, 2016


Now that we're winding down toward the moment where the two main political parties will decide who should be the leader of the free world, let's take a look at our choices.

HILLARY CLINTON: As Hillary seems to be asking, what more can be said? Just go to The Atlantic's "Clinton scandal list". Even if some of them turned out to be not war crime-worthy, the question remains: What the hell is it about the Clintons that attract more dirty linen than the laundry chute at a condo for feral hogs? (Remember when Chelsea used her name to get a short-lived, $600,000 job as an NBC News "reporter"?) 

Even Chelsea's husband lost $25-million of investors' money betting on the financial recovery of Greece -- which even a neophyte like me knew was like putting money on a horse named Glue Factory. Glad to see she's inherited her mom's taste in trustworthy men.

As for the email investigation, residents of Hillaryworld are undoubtedly chanting, "No indictment! We win!" But it only takes a glance at FBI Director James Comey's comments to understand that "no trial" doesn't mean "not guilty." This screenshot sums things up rather nicely:

Translation: Hillary lied like a mutha. Again. And again. And again. And again. But as the pundits say, that's all "baked in" to her public persona -- rather like a frittata made with goat spleen, curdled milk and rancid bologna. Dig in, people!

DONALD J. TRUMP: Forget about how he uses bankruptcy laws to forgo paying his bills. The ego that could smother a blue whale. The ability to offend every minority group outside of aborigines (and that's only because he's never heard of them). An oratorical skill that makes you question from which end diarrhea is supposed to eject.  A campaign staff that thinks the "Neo" in "Neo-Nazis" means "Not Enough Of." Forget all that now.

All you need to know is that Ku Klux Klan pinup boy David Duke is comfortable enough with Trump's positions that he's volunteered to be his vice-president. His reasoning? "It'd be Trump's best LIFE INSURANCE.The Zio NeoCon Mossad boys would not dare touch him if I was heartbeat from Presidency." You're off the hook, Newt!

To sum up: here are your choices, earthlings. 

  • A woman whose presidency guarantees four to eight years of soap opera (Will Hillary forgive Bill for his latest dalliance? Will the press finally give up their demands that she speak to them? And who is Chelsea's real father? Tune into tomorrow's episode of As the Clintons Turn), mistrust, a pathological desire for sketchy money, and a failed attempt to revive To Tell the Truth.
  • A man who appeals to people who nostalgically use "ovens" and "Jews" in the same sentence; who possesses the good taste of a drunk exposing himself on the #6 local; and whose ability to improvise during a speech is comparable to a jazz musician suffering from irreparable brain damage. When Trump promises an "unbelievable" presidency, he's not kidding.
A big thank you the electorate for choosing two people who set the bar lower than an amputated ant. You justify both my acute cynicism and the quiet joy in the knowledge that each day brings me one step closer to my death. 


Tuesday, July 5, 2016


Tune into any news network, and you'll hear the same mantras: It's been a horrible two weeks for Donald Trump. It's been a terrible month for Donald Trump. It's been a revolting six weeks for Donald Trump.

Yes, yes, yes, all true. Charges of racism, antisemitism, fraud,outsourcing, and, even worse, bad taste have been accurately leveled at the (all together now) presumptive Republican presidential nominee. Hoo boy, the guy's gotta be so far down in the polls, he's going to reach his bete noir China without the use of a shovel.

So how come the Real Clear Politics average of the major polls has Hillary Clinton up over Trump by only 4.6 points? And that many of the polls show them in a statistical tie? 

To quote the title of the NPR quiz show
-- wait, wait, don't tell me! It's because of statements like the one Hillary's campaign put out over the (of course!) holiday weekend -- that she had given a "voluntary" three-and-a-half hour interview to the FBI regarding her sketchy email server. 

Sure, everybody "volunteers" to go through a third-degree by the Feds. The same way a drunk volunteers to knock back a bottle of Thunderbird for breakfast, or Americans volunteer to pay taxes, or you or I might volunteer to get food poisoning after unwittingly eating salmonella-infected chicken.

At least people can trust Donald Trump to say stupid things. Nobody can trust Hillary Clinton period. Which is three fewer who actually like her.

As her campaign managers once again struggle to reintroduce the woman we've known since "Baby Got Back" topped the charts, the time has come to come up with some new slogans in order to win over an increasingly skeptical electorate.

















Friday, July 1, 2016


Get a dictionary, moron.
According to a 2014 Reuters poll, almost one-quarter of American citizens would like their state to secede from the rest of the country. 

Of course, ever since the Civil War, secession has always been a dirty word. But if you discover that 53% of those people polled identify with the Tea Party, does it really seem like such a bad thing anymore?

So after much thoughtful deliberation, I’ve come up with a way to please citizens of all states who either want to stay or go. It would take years of planning and several billion dollars to get the job done. But considering just how utterly, perhaps permanently divided a nation we are, it would be worth it.

For a price.
Ladies and gentlemen, I offer you the Republic of Tea, formerly known as Wisconsin.

I choose Wisconsin because of its small population and obvious political leanings. Current Wisconsinites who wish to remain American citizens will receive a one-time government stipend to help relocate to the state of their choice. All will be provided with free training for new employment; many will receive a guaranteed job. (More on that later.) 

However, anyone who wants to move to the Republic of Tea will have to pay a $5,000 flip tax to their state government. Using the figures in the poll, that would be 80,000,000 people contributing a total of 
$400,000,000,000 to paying for the project. That's so many zeroes, I have no idea what the hell number it is. (If anyone wants to double-check those numbers, please do, and get in touch if I'm wrong. I want people to take this seriously.)

The Republic of Tea’s laws, culture, and education will reflect whatever beliefs its founders deem fit. Slavery good, science bad, Bible as law book – go ahead, Tea citizens, knock yourselves out (please!). Remember, it’s your country to do with as you wish.

Everyone moving to the Republic of Tea will, of course, immediately forfeit their American citizenship, and will no longer be subject to our “illegal” federal taxes – the ones that paid for their former highways, public schools, Medicare, etc. And once moving there, Tea people must live in their adopted homeland for at least 20 years. You broke it, you bought it.

This law, however, would be null and void for people born there – you know, anchor 
babies – who believe that they don’t fit in. Examples would include LGBQT (and whatever letter is added in the future), budding scientists, freethinkers, non-evangelicals, atheists, people who enjoy sex for the sake of sex, etc. Upon reaching the age of consent, they would be allowed free passage to any of the remaining 49 states. How else to keep the Republic of Tea pure and godly?

The new I-94 in suburban Milwaukee.
Sounds like a win-win for everybody. Except for one downside: the citizens of Tea who have gotten used to the aforementioned highways, public schools, Medicare, etc., may soon realize that their tax-free country will offer a rather, um, simpler way of life. 

As a result, many Tea people may find themselves yearning to sneak back into the US to take jobs away from hardworking Americans. How dare they!

But not to worry. Remember “those guaranteed jobs for many” mentioned earlier? Every ex-Wisconsinite moving to one of the states bordering their former home will be immediately hired to help build a wall around the Republic of Tea. No way are we going to allow an invasion of those illegal aliens!

There’s your solution, secessionists. I’ve just made your Utopia a reality. Just don’t start acting all crazy and make us invade you. Because once we do, we’ll never leave. And you really don’t want to be part of the United States again, do you? 


Wednesday, June 29, 2016


The official face of ISIS.
If you thought that yesterday's massacre at Istanbul's Ataturk Airport was the work of terrorists, think again! Secretary of State John Kerry reminded us the culprits were "stateless criminal actors." 

I guess that's typical bureaucratic lingo, but to me it conjures up images of freelance day players in '40s gangster movies.

It also conjures up reasons why there are many people who believe the Obama administration is terrified of "terrorists" -- the word, not the people. If we just replace scary-sounding words with intellectually-sounding phrases, the problem will go away. 

It's not just the feds. Watch the news sometime. Nobody is ever described as having died anymore; they've all "passed away." Seventy-three people killed in a plane crash?  Nope -- you're likely to hear that "73 souls were lost." Is any authority figure in America not afraid of talking to adults as if they were, well, adults?

If this keeps up, within a generation our entire way of speaking will be altered.

Car crash: Deleterious Vehicular Usage 

Abortion: Early Desinent Nascency 

Addiction: Extreme Inclination of a Physical and/or Psychological Pathway

Unemployed: Occupationally Unengaged

Broke: Functionally Unprosperous

Dead Soldiers: Permanently Inanimate Service Persons

Poverty: Acute Monetary Exiguity

Rape: Unwanted Intimate Comportment Without Regard to Reproductive Desire 

Underpaid Worker: Subjacent Recompensed Hireling

Child Abuse: Neonate Desecration

Politician: Dissimulator Par Excellence


Monday, June 27, 2016


The pudgy nose of the GOP.
Many important questions are being asked this morning. What will the "Brexit" mean to international finances and relations? If ISIS is beaten back in Syria, should we take out Pres. Assad next? And are those new American Express commercials supposed to be funny just because they star Tina Fey?

But the most pressing inquiry facing us is: Does anyone outside the DC Beltway care that George Will has left the Republican Party? More to the point, does anyone he wishes to persuade to do likewise even know who he is?

Idiocy sounds better like this.
Will's key statement regarding his farewell -- "This is not my party" -- matches pound for pound Trump's lusty ego ("my party"!), while, at the same time, making no sense. Looking upon women and gays as second-class citizens, playing up to gun nuts, believing that working stiffs are overpaid, denying climate change, you name it -- Trump is merely laying out the classic Republican platform in one of those thumping, bass-heavy car speakers that wake you up at three in the morning, rather than from a tinny yet soothing 1950s Philco Predicta, back when segregation was law, women were in the kitchen, and gays just didn't exist

"Ooh! Ooh! Donald!"
Perhaps that's the real problem Will has with him: Trump has no class. He dresses like a sketchy funeral director, gets his hair done at Not-So-Supercuts, and sounds like he received elocution lessons from Gunther Toody. 

In other words, Trump reflects much of the 14-million people who voted for him -- a bigger turnout, as Trump will gladly remind you, than any Republican candidate in history. That is precisely the mob that George Will never deigns to interact with, other than to say, "Check, please." 

I first understood his superciliousness in a 2009 column when he bemoaned -- in 747 words -- being surrounded by adults wearing jeans and running shoes. His advice to us: "For men, sartorial good taste can be reduced to one rule: If Fred Astaire would not have worn it, don't wear it. For women, substitute Grace Kelly."  

Apart from being another one of his pathetic "Life was so much better when I was a kid!" pieces of drivel, it also showcases Will's total lack of understanding regarding life outside suburban Washington cocktail parties. I mean, my wife and I would love to dress like Astaire and Kelly -- no kidding! Maybe you could lend us a few bucks, George? 

"No, Mr. Will, I expect you to die!"
You can catch Will's snob act during his appearances on Fox News' Special Report's round-table segment. That's always fun, because he speaks through gritted teeth, knowing full well that he's playing second-fiddle to fellow conservative intellectual and senior round-table member Charles Krauthammer. I can't say that I always agree with Krauthammer, (a/k/a The Hammer), but his quiet, piercing delivery can be either ruthlessly penetrating or laugh-out loud funny -- or both. The guy is a serious wit, yet carries the intimidating gravitas of a 1960s James Bond villain.

He won't be so pro-gun
when someone mistakes
his hair for a rabid
George Will, on the other hand, with a haircut that looks a bad toupee (or is it vice-versa?), owlish glasses, and oh-so-superior manner, looks like the result of a one-night stand between Howdy Doody and Queen Victoria. Or Franklin Pangborn and ZaSu Pitts -- Will can be a chameleon that way. He gets off an infrequent bon mot on Special Report, but does it in such a way that you want tell him to piss off and, oh yeah, do something about that weird-colored thing on top of your head. 

Many of George Will's observations have become legendary. Doubting the severity of campus rapes; crediting Pres. Obama's popularity simply on his race; decrying high voter turnout by comparing it to the rise of Adolf Hitler to name just a few. Perhaps Will is right when he refers to the GOP as "my party," only with a Trinity College/Oxford/Princeton education setting him apart from the base. And, true to GOP-elite form, Will dumped the mother of his children for a younger, prettier wife in 1991. In his day, couples stayed married!

So, George, tell me in words I can understand -- what is it about Donald Trump's views (and marriage vows) that you find so offensive? And when are you going to start dressing like Fred Astaire?