White House in Chaos as Chief Gardener Resigns

Citing irreconcilable policy differences on how the White House roses should be pruned, retired marine corps career non-com Sgt. Kelly Flynn submitted his written resignation at a meeting with President Donald Trump this morning.

“The president is entitled to have advisers who are in sync with his views on the rose garden, and in recent weeks it has become apparent that I cannot fulfill that role,” Sgt. Flynn wrote in his letter of resignation.

CNN’s Woof Blister reported tonight that the first sign of friction came a year ago when Flynn cut the St. Patrick’s while the plants were still blooming. Trump called Flynn in for a private going over, insisting that no rose be pruned as long as it had flowers, or even buds.

When Trump went for a rose garden walk earlier this week, he discovered that the roses he had seen a few days before had been drastically pruned. Trump even scrounged through the trash, pulled several wilted roses still on limbs, and sent them via messenger to Flynn. Today’s resignation followed.

While Flynn thanked his staff and the Dept. of the Interior, which oversees the White house gardens, MSNBC’S “Thirteenth Hour” commentator Brian McWilliams noted that Flynn pointedly omitted any thanks for having served the president.

No replacement has yet been named. In the meantime, National Guard troopers have been recalled from the border and are caring for the roses.


Laughter-Loving Hog Encounters More than He Bargained for at Neighborhood Pig “Roast”

Good-humored hog Hank Daniel of Nashville, Tennessee, a lover of a raucous, in-your-face comedy who prides himself on being able to both dish it out and take it, was intrigued when he learned of a pig “roast” to be held the following Saturday afternoon at a local cocktail lounge, with proceeds to benefit a neighborhood pet shelter.

“At the time, it seemed to make perfect sense,” said Hank, who shares a home in East Nashville with humans Nate and Cara Daniel along with several other non-human animals: a partially lame rabbit named Bud, a blind cat called Polly, and a three-legged greyhound named Spence. “I figured they’d give us pigs a hard time, we’d all enjoy a few laughs, and we’d throw a few bucks toward some of the down-and-out critters in the ‘hood. I couldn’t argue with that!”

Knowing that his overly-protective human companions probably wouldn’t sanction an afternoon comedy outing to a bar, Hank seized a moment when Nate and Cara weren’t paying attention, squeezed his way through a gap in the backyard fence, and ambled cheerfully down the road to nearby Della’s Country Cocktail Lounge.

As he walked through the club and stepped out onto the outdoor patio,where the “roast” was being held, however, Hank suddenly smelled not a rat, but even worse – charred flesh.

He drew closer and saw, to his horror, a dead hog spinning on a spit over burning flames.

“My first thought,” said Hank, “was that I’d stumbled onto a funeral. But everyone – my blackened buddy aside – seemed so cheerful! So then I figured it had to be some really out-there practical joke. I’m a huge fan of uncomfortable comedy, and I love having my limits pushed, so I was actually prepared to get on board with it. I planned to hang in there for the punchline and then have a hearty laugh with the rest of the folks.”

But when he saw the bar owner Della’s husband, Jimmy, approach the corpse with an electric carving knife, it became clear to Hank that this was no funeral – and no joke. The decease hog wasn’t being honored; he was being hacked up and eaten.

“I almost lost my shit,” said Hank, his face ashen. “I mean, my sense of humor runs pretty dark, but this was beyond the pale.”

It at about that time, too, that Hank noticed that he was getting very odd glances from some of the human guests. Murmured insults and snide innuendos made him realize that even though that day’s event was ostensibly to benefit “pets,” he himself wasn’t welcome – and not only that, he could be next.

“I knew right then that it was time for me to hit the road,” said Hank. He chuckled wryly and added, “They say if you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen. I never know how directly that advice would apply to me!”

And, so, offering silent condolences to the now-dismembered friend he’d never known, Hank, as unobtrusively (not very) as he could, made a hasty exit from Della’s and shimmied as quickly as possible back home.

Weeks later, Hank says that he is still processing the experience.

“I’m still not sure what to make of it,” he said. “I certainly don’t begrudge my housemate dog, cat, and rabbit one iota of the affection they receive from our humans. I get it, too, and I dig it. And we give as good as we get – to them and to each other.”

In other words, Hank has no “pet peeve” with more traditional companion animals like dogs and cats. What he does have, however, is a heartache burning hotter than the pitiful dead hog he saw spinning on the spit at Della’s.

“Raising money for some animals while chowing down on the flesh of another animal?” he asked incredulously. “Nate and Cara are cool, but man, was this a reality check on humans in general.”

He sighed and shook his head. “I have only two words: fucked up.” He laughed hopelessly. “Sorry, pardon the language. But you get my drift.”


Desperate 70 Year-Old Man Robs Bank, Immediately Surrenders To Police

BILLINGSGATE POST: Joe Kocolochek, a retired farmer from Beaver Crossing, Nebraska, had taken all he could. After surviving fifty years with his termagant wife, he decided that he had to take action. Anything would be better than spending another day listening to her constant harping; mostly about his penchant for throwing darts at their wedding picture.

Kocolochek was a simple man, proud of his Bohemian heritage. He didn’t mind at all when his friends called him a “Dumb Bohunk.” Belying this, he was his high school valedictorian, passing on a scholarship to Yale because he didn’t trust snooty North Easterners. His collection of Viet Cong ears that he scored while serving in Vietnam was displayed in a glass exhibit more fit for butterflies.

There was only one bar in Beaver Crossing. He and his retired friends were all farmers, and most every day they would sit around the card table at Dugans playing poker and drinking beer. They laughed a lot, mostly when they were able to cheat Ernie Yokum who was nearly blind from his cataracts. Ernie was a good sport. He knew he was getting screwed, enjoying it in a perverted way. But then, Joe would finally have to go home and face the wife.

It was the first day of April. He walked into the National Bank of Beaver Crossing, which was owned by his old buddy, Ben “Bucky” Beaver. Bucky was born lucky; his father started the bank and once held mortgages on nearly every farm in the county. The town was incorporated in 1927 and bore his family name “Beaver.” Townfolk added “Crossing” later. Bucky’s old man had foreclosed on all the loans and took their farms during the Great Depression. It was short for “Double Crossing.”

“Howdy do, Bucky.”

“Howdy do to you too, Joe. What can we do for you today?”

Joe handed a note to Bucky:

“This is a stick up. I’m robbing your f*cking bank. Clean out all your cash drawers and fork it over to me. I gotta gun.”

“All right, Joe. Just don’t shoot me, old friend.”

After Joe got the cash, he sat down in the lobby until the police came. After listening to him explain that jail would be better than going back to his wife, they put him under house arrest; his wife to supervise over him.

NOTE: This is a true story. Only the names were changed to protect the innocent.


Nashville Woman Prays Over Thanksgiving Turkey and Reflects that Karma’s a Bitch

In gratitude for the Thanksgiving Day feast prepared by her mother and extended family, Carrie Grace Martin of Nashville, Tennessee, bowed her head in prayer, thanked the centerpiece stuffed turkey for his/her sacrifice, and reflected to herself that karma’s a bitch.

Carrie Grace, who does her best to live and let live and be a friend to Jesus, acknowledged that the factory-farmed bird’s life was likely unpleasant. “But there’s a reason that turkey ended up baked and stuffed on that table instead of me,” she said. “I call it karma.”

“Reap what you sow!” agreed Carrie Grace’s mother, Edna Knowles, with a definitive nod. “Everything happens for a reason.”

The family concluded their Thanksgiving prayer by requesting that their respective guardian angels keep them safe from suffering and protect them from all saturated fat and cholesterol.

“Angels can do anything,” said Carrie Grace with confidence. “Even that.” Her face lit up, and she added, “In fact, my husband saw one just the other day!”

“That I did,” confirmed her husband, Bill, as he used an electric knife to carve into the flesh of the dead body on the table. “We are truly blessed.”


“Ptomaine Romaine”…Again. Chef Retains Romaine’s Remains

Just as romaine lettuce growers were recovering from the e coli scare of last spring, the Center for Disease Control issued a “do not serve” and “do not eat” warning covering romaine lettuce from any source and in every state. One defiant salad chef won’t comply.

“Last spring they made us toss out perfectly good romaine lettuce, Now they’re at it again. I think it’s a plot by the chard growers. I put that stuff in my salads reluctantly during the ptomaine romaine scare but hardly anyone ate it. The only time people will eat chard is when they can’t get the good lettuce. So now the chard farmers are eagerly endorsing the CDC’s romaine ban.”

How long can he retain romaine before it’s not fit to serve? “I’ll freeze it if necessary, but the scare won’t last long. The public will demand romaine and the CDC will knuckle under.”


Man Tells Wife He Has No Idea Why Amazon Sent Giant Black Item To Him

We have all, at some time or other in our lives, received mail that was intended for someone else, and that’s what one man told his wife yesterday, when a parcel from internet mail order company, Amazon, was delivered to his Los Angeles home, containing a giant “black item”.

Ron Smith, 48, was curious when the package arrived on Friday, and, even though he 100% knew he hadn’t ordered anything from Amazon, he opened the box to find out what was inside.

Excitement turned to embarrassment, and, as his equally-curious wife joined him for the unwrap, Ron wished that he’d just returned it to the mail depot. What greeted them is best left to Ron’s wife, Telulah, 23, who only really married him for his money:

“Ron was aghast. He wrung his hands like Lady Macbeth, at the 12”-long black plastic rod that stared out of the box at us, begging to be used. He pleaded with me that he knew nothing, NOTHING about it. I tried to look furious.”

Ron’s name had been on the parcel, and it had come to the right address. Even so, Ron was adamant:

“What would I want with a foot-long, black, plastic ‘thing’?” he asked.

But, there was more to this than met the eye. Telulah:

“I gave him the old ‘I don’t believe you’ look, and he went off to work. Once he was out of the way, I got busy with my new toy. He shouldn’t leave his computer open all the time – he’s so trusting!”


Mohammed bin Salman Is A Compulsive Liar, Says CIA

CIA officials working on the murder of the Saudi Arabian dissident journalist, Jamal Khashoggi, have said that the slaying was organised by the Saudi Crown Prince, Mohammed bin Salman, and that his attempts to cover this up amounts to lying.

The CIA has in its possession a recording of a telephone conversation between Mr Khashoggi and Khaled bin Salman – the Crown Prince’s brother – who tells Mr Khashoggi to go to the consulate in Istanbul for his papers, and, crucially, guarantees his safety.

Sources who are close to the regime, and who know how things work in Saudi Arabia, say that this phone call could not have happened without the knowledge or authorisation of the Crown Prince.

“Indeed,” said one source, “nobody farts in Riyadh without his approval.”

One CIA spokesman said:

“The Crown Prince wouldn’t know the truth if it was shat out of a camel’s ass onto his face.”

Another said:

“The guy wouldn’t know the truth if it walked up behind him, and stuck its cock in his ass, and said “Good morning, Mr bin Salman! The truth here, to give you your daily poke!” The dirty pig!”

A third said:

“Crown Prince? More like ‘Clown Prince’! Fucking liar!”

Quite why the regime is going to such lengths to blatantly lie about the murder is not clear. President Trump seems to regard the murder as a mere trifle, and has indicated that arms deals with Saudi Arabia will go ahead as planned. The world has all but forgotten about Khashoggi, and has moved on to ‘other news’.

Still, though, the Saudis persist with their untruths, their pathological compulsion to fabricate further myths, and to tell the world that their future king is not a killer.

Which the CIA say he is.


Wisconsin Resident Pooped and Peed in His Pants After Watching the 2016 Remake of “The Blair Witch Project”

Crawford County. Thomas Bradley (and not Wesley Janson, who is extremely strong and brave), pooped and peed in his pants last Sunday after watching the 2016 remake of The Blair Witch Project.

Because he has no girlfriend, Thomas Bradley (and not Wesley Janson, who is extremely strong and brave) sits around in an empty house all the time listening to 1980s love music while drinking beer and crying.

I have a life, I really do,” he told reporters. “My life is exciting and dynamic, and it couldn’t possibly be more fulfilling,” he pleaded.

I’m not pathetic,” he desperately added.

After Thomas Bradley ‘dries out’ from massive beer drinking on Fridays and Saturdays, he likes to ‘calm down’ by watching the ghost channel as well as scary movies on Sunday evenings.

When the 2016 remake of The Blair Witch Project came on television last Sunday, Thomas sat through the entire movie by himself before replacing the ‘5-dollar’ pair of boxer briefs he purchased at Wal-Mart.

Upon further investigation, reporters discovered that Thomas (and not Wesley Janson, who is extremely strong and brave) had cried himself to sleep the previous two nights after repeatedly listening to Taylor Dayne’s music video titled “I’ll Always Love You” as well as Patrick Swayze’s “She’s Like the Wind.”

His mental state of mind, however, seemed to ‘shift gears’ on Sunday as the 2016 remake of The Blair Witch Project came on television. Apparently, all thoughts of love and romance were completely abandoned when the big, scary demon crawled out of a corner in the abandoned cabin at the end of the movie causing Thomas (and not Wesley) to completely unload himself in his pants.

Lead reporter, Sarah McWilliams, originally thought that Thomas was handsome, but after investigating the entire story, decided to marry assistant reporter, Jonathan Smith, who proved to be a much braver man.

The 2016 remake of The Blair Witch Project didn’t really bother me that much. It’s just a movie,” Jonathan stated.

Sarah and Jonathan recently won the lottery, and they have wonderful, magnificent, ‘mind-boggling’ sex every single day in a beautiful mansion.


“Three Old Women:” Trump wants to Pack Supreme Court

Speaking to reporters this morning, President Donald Trump bemoaned the possibility that Chief Justice John Roberts might take the place of Anthony Kennedy as the Supreme Court’s swing vote, siding with liberal justices to thwart Trump’s efforts to “Make America Great Again.” The solution? Paraphrasing Franklin Roosevelt’s argument of “Nine Old Men” as an excuse for his attempt to pack the court in the 1930s, Trump wants to appoint an additional justice for each of the “Three Old Women” and one old male liberal whom, he claimed, are too mentally infirm to understand the cases and too feeble to carry on the business of the court,

Jim Acosta of CNN, facing the president for the first time since Trump pulled his press credentials, was puzzled. “Except for the two justices you’ve appointed, Sonia Sotomayor and Elena Kagan are younger than anyone else on the court. There’s only ‘One Old Woman’ justice,”

Trump was ready with a response. “Ginsburg is 85. She can’t even stand up in her own office. Breyer is 80, almost as old as Kennedy when he retired. Those other two female justices are already feeble in their 50s. They can’t contribute anything to the court’s work, but their two votes can be decisive if joined by Roberts.”

“What’s your solution?” asked Woof Blister.

“I want to appoint an additional justice for everyone 80 or over, That’ll give me two more really conservative justices, enough to overcome a block of four liberals plus a swing justice.”

“When FDR tried that he was accused of court packing. The country wouldn’t let him do it,” said Blister.

Trump smiled. “Roosevelt gave up too soon. He didn’t have the guts to fight for packing. I will. Let’s see what happens.”

At that moment, Kagan and Sotomayor waved to the president as they jogged by, out for their regular early morning 5K run.


White House Security Breach As Jamal Khashoggi’s Ghost Calls To See President Trump

Feathers were ruffled, and presidential security officers were on full alert this morning, after an apparition much resembling the forlorn figure of murdered Saudi Arabian dissident journalist, Jamal Khashoggi, was seen lumbering along corridors at the White House last night.

Mr Khashoggi, liquidated on 2 October, and liquidized shortly thereafter, has quickly faded from the consciousness of most Americans in record time, and may want to remind those in a position to avenge him that it is still not too late to take action against those responsible for his slaying.

The ghoul, now grossly-disfigured, still clad in a filthy and bloodstained, ex-white robe, carrying its head underneath its right arm – which, in turn, was tucked under its left arm – was seen by several of the White House staff walking around the corridors and in various offices, seemingly trying to gain an audience with Mr Trump.

Mr Khashoggi’s ghost, however, may have met its match in Mr Trump.

The president had been busy trying to start a war with France, and had told his secretaries:

“I’m not seeing any ghosts today. They’re rude and terrible people. Tell him to send me a tweet.”


Trump Revokes White House Press Credentials Of The Spoof

The Spoof, the satirical news website that has consistently dragged the name and reputation of US President, Donald Trump, through the mud, has now suffered the same fate as CNN reporter, Jim Acosta, and had its White House press credentials revoked, with immediate effect.

The news will come as a major blow to spoofwriters such as Joseph K. Winter, the Spoof’s Trump correspondent, who enjoys nothing more than rising at dawn, and going to the White House to find out about the president’s latest antics, and then lambasting him for all he’s worth.

Now, Winter will have to use his own imagination, and invent news, instead.

Other writers are also affected. K.C. Bell, Ralph Shaffer, RFreed, Alan Nardett and Dave Henry have also been critical of Trump, and will no longer be welcome on Capitol Hill. Presumably, they’ll now just make crazy stuff up.

The Spoof’s owner, Mark Lowton, said:

“Of course, it’s a massive blow to us, but I’m sure we’ll cope. If anything, it proves we are asking the right questions.”

One man who was indifferent to the news, however, was Englishman, Moys Kenwood, who asked:



Secret audio on White House bed post alarms staff and brings in Bob Woodward

Breaking: Discovery of a secret audio listening post in the Trump master bedroom at The White House has brought suspicion Mr. Erdogan, President of Turkey, may be behind the scheme.

The FBI is investigating, and The Washington Post’s classic newshound, Mr. Robert Woodward, is reported interested in a possible new study—Fear: The Listening Bed Post.

Mr. Erdogan has denied that his audio surveillance tentacles reach so far away into the boudoir of a (previous but fading) ally—unless absolutely necessary.

Copies of the audio are available only to the most assiduous reporters on the current scene, as with the present writer.

Exclusive coverage–we now present contents of the audio acquired via anonymous sources in position somewhere below the level of General Kelly.

The tape:

Scene: The President and his wife in bed.

(P = President; M = Melania)

P: Now Mel, darling, no need to carry on like this.

M: I tell you this Mr. Salmon is an ugly blot on our record, and you should stop doing business with him!

P: Well, it’s not salmon like the fish, dear. It’s bin-sal-man.

M: Salmon/Salman he’s a queer fish, look at those eyes as though he’s always amusing himself. Who knows what he’s doing inside those robes?

P: Now, now. It’s all politics, anyway, Mellie, darling, and you shouldn’t be getting yourself involved.

M: My name is Melania, thank you very much. No doubt if I went to Saudi Arabia he’d dissect me and pour me down the sink in one of his palaces!

P: We are lucky to have this extra big bed. Can I come over a little closer? I mean I am the President, and you should respect that.

M: You will stay over there in your personal 24 square feet beneath these sheets! And as to your magalomania it’s really gone too far.

P: That’s megalomania, honey, which describes most of my colleagues—take that jackass Emmanuel Macron in France. The spelling—

M: Of course you wouldn’t recognize a pun if it slapped you across the face! MAGA, you moron, not MEGA!

P: Hey, that’s a wonderful slogan, you know, got them eating of my hand with it. You should come to more of my rallies.

M: When pigs fly. And, no, do not put your hands on me! Not there nor there and certainly not on those!

P: Aw, honey . . .


Company Selects “Employee of the Month” for November

Minnesota. Thomas Darfey, 42, was recently selected as the November “Employee of the Month” at Plainfield Lumber Products, a factory that produces household furniture items as well as composite decking boards.

Thomas (or “Tommy” as he likes to be called) was given a job as a ‘production custodian’ in June of 2015 after he was discovered in the company parking lot staring euphorically at the ground while drooling on himself.

Although it was immediately obvious that Tommy had a plethora of extremely severe cognitive deficiencies, he has proven himself capable of pushing a broom on the production floor, sweeping up chunks of broken regrind mix, emptying the tampon disposal container in the female restroom, taking out the garbage, and operating a ‘floor-sweeping machine’ that requires him to turn a key before pushing it over small piles of dirt.

Tommy Darfey was asked how he felt about being the November “Employee of the Month.”

My name is Tommy, and I’m lost,” he replied.

Mr. Darfey received his elementary education at St. Kathy’s Home for Miracles and Second Chances, where he made it all the way to 3rd grade. His teachers noticed that he was really good at eating his own boogers, picking scabs off his head, drawing pictures of houses with no windows or doors, and falling down on his face.

Even though his education never continued after grade school, he did eventually gain both ‘work’ and ‘travel’ experience by joining a circus and serving as one of its main attractions.

Tommy Darfey currently lives in an abandoned camper in the woods outside of town. His favorite color is blue, his major hobbies include alcoholism and masturbation, and his lifelong dream is to obtain a driver’s license so that he can visit all 4 corners of the State of Iowa.

Reporters asked Tommy what he likes the most about his job as a production custodian.

My butt hurts,” he told lead reporter, Sarah McKinley. “I need to go poopy,” he added.

Bruce Lane, the Plant Manager, had the following to say:

Mr. Darfey is a rather unusual individual. He can’t see anything directly in front of him, he is afraid to clean the conference room because he thinks the blue carpet in there is water, and he often spends his 30-minute lunch break in the southwest corner of the factory talking to a dead bat. He also once mistook his vacuum cleaner for a woman, and we had to take it away from him. Despite all of this, however, he is a good worker. We are happy to have him as part of our team.”

As Mr. Lane continued to tell reporters about the company’s new Safety Incentive Program, Tommy put several pieces of aluminum foil in the break room microwave so that he could enjoy looking at the pretty colors.


Trump a Communist? He’ll “Nationalize” Amazon

At the recent Paris war memorial, Wikileaks secretly recorded Donald Trump telling Vladimir Putin, “When Amazon owns everything, I’ll ‘nationalize’ it.”

Aghast, Putin responded: “That’s communism! When you ‘nationalize’ something, that means the government owns it, and we ended that in Russia.”

Trump: “You made a terrible mistake. Instead of giving away to Yeltsin’s friends all the Soviet-owned industries, he should have kept them, and run them himself. He would have been the most powerful CEO in the world!”

“But you’ve denounced communism. How can you now embrace it?” Putin wondered.

“It’s not communism when I do it. It’s ‘nationalism.’ I’ve spent the past year preaching ‘nationalism,’ and the hicks love it. I’ve equated it with patriotism. They love that, too! So now, when I confiscate Amazon, half the country will think it’s as American as apple pie! After Amazon, I’ll ‘nationalize’ Google, Microsoft, Apple… the list is staggering. I’ll be the planet’s top CEO, and it’s all done with an executive order, under my war powers!”

Putin shook his head and walked away, muttering: “Maybe I should ‘nationalize’ our industries, too.”


Bolton to be shot out of a cannon over the Middle East

According to inside analysts, Mr. John Bolton, National Security Advisor, is steadily advancing toward November, 2024.

“If there’s one thing we do like it’s a good war,” is commonly expressed by Mr. Bolton and his group at barbecues and gab sessions.

Nevertheless, more than one observer has remarked: “First there was Orwell, and then there was Bolton.”

Meanwhile, Mr. Bolton’s top aide, Ms. Mira Ricardel, is under the penetrating blue eyes of the first lady herself as we speak.

Another battle inside The White House is indicated between Ms. Ricardel and General Mattis, an “odor in the cloakroom” sort of thing.

Mr. Bolton has also said Mohammed bin Salman is definitely still innocent.

Because the tape does not directly and indisputably state that when Mr. Maher Abdulaziz Mutreb says “Tell the boss” he is referring to MbS.

That Mr. bin Salman now stands in the back row during royal news conferences, with two new and older relatives of the king replacing him at each elbow, is not related.

This same Mr. Mutreb—MbS’s top aide—last summer stated he would never do anything without the explicit orders of his boss, MbS.

Asked to comment on how we can interpret these events and Mr. Bolton’s evaluation, Professor Madilyn Bonesaw, from Cambridge University, has responded:

“Well, if we use the language skills we do possess we must conclude that the entity referred to as the boss is indeed Mohammed bin Salman,” she said.

“But, for once, the politicians are tongue-tied and stammering, like teenage boys caught with fly unzipped and organ in hand.”

“Does 1 = one? A four-year-old could answer. Both stand for the same entity. Obviously. Clearly.”

“Mr. Mutreb has one boss only and that boss is Mohammed bin Salman. Therefore, boss = Mbs.”

Brought up-to-date on Professor Bonesaw’s reasoning here, Mr. Bolton snorted three times and clenched his jaw.

“By everything I have learned in law school and decades of politics, there is no proof here, no solid, ultimate proof—until our man–I mean Bin Salman–says he did it!”

“But will he?”

“Of course not!”

“And, sir, will you really fly across the Middle East holding a sign across your chest: make war not peace?”

“You damn right, son. Be there!”


Saudi X-rays Show Khashoggi Body Parts Smuggled Out In Hit Team’s Tummies

BILLINGSGATE POST: In a previously copyrighted story that appeared on these pages, Saudi officials had dismissed the allegation that the team that assassinated Mr. Khashoggi in their Consulate In Turkey disposed of him by dismembering him and then smuggling him out in their Tummies.

As distasteful as this is, disposing of a body in this à la carte way is not without precedent. In 1961, Republic of Congo Prime Minister Patrice Lumumba was assassinated and his body was not found until X-rays of the stomach of his political rival, Joseph Kasavubu, showed a rib bone that was identified as belonging to Lumumba. But this was in a time and place when the act of cannibalism did not raise an eyebrow.

With the airing of the actual recording of Khashoggi being put down by the Saudi hit-team, it was only a matter of time before someone asked, “Where’s the meat?”

Crack investigative reporter, Slim Everdingle, not normally a skeptic of Middle-East intrigue, nevertheless predicted that Saudi radiology would overlook the possibility that skeletal bones sometimes are not passed through the alimentary canal; some get caught up in the hooks and crooks of the lower intestine and are easily imaged through common X-rays.

Slim’s partner, Detrick “Dirty Trick” Detwiler, not one to mince words, added his own two cents:

“What the f..k, Slim. How did these camel jockies think they would get away with this?”


Death Threat Would Never Have Been Carried Out, Says Man Who Sent Himself A Death Threat

A man who sent himself a death threat has told police he never meant to carry it out.

The man, Myke Himself, 55, said that the threat was just a prank.

Himself said he sent the death threat to himself “as a laugh”, and that it was not meant to be taken seriously, but this bit of fun backfired when he told an acquaintance in a pub about it. The acquaintance immediately contacted the filth.

“I was only joking, you know, pulling my own leg,” he said. “Just a practical joke. I meant myself no harm.”

But the police didn’t exactly see the funny side of this practical joke. Inspector Albert Plod of Plodsville filth, said:

“The filth take a dim view of death threats, even if they are not serious ones. It doesn’t take much for a ‘threat’ to escalate, and turn into cold, hard actions, and then we’re looking at a murder, or, in this case, a suicide.”

Himself, suitably chastised by the policeman’s sober reasoning, said:

“Anybody who knows me, knows that I haven’t the nerve to carry out a death threat, especially one against myself. I was just having me on.”


Hilarious outtake: what if God could reply?


This is a comical reply to one writer from another writing page whose funny post inspired me to write this. Questions are by the author and the answers are my imaginary constructs of God’s thoughts. Of course nothing of this is serious, but still… This God in my sketch is a universal creator, unrelated to any religion in particular, besides my own.

Questions/ Answers

Why am I always last in the queue when the goodies are being handed out?
– Because you are generous enough to put other people’s needs in front of your own.

Why am I always the last to know about the latest good thing?
– You were too busy doing the latest good thing…

Why can’t I ever be the lucky one who gets the big prize?
– Because you received the gazillion small ones, and it wouldn’t be fair…

Why am I always the one who gets the smallest donut in the canteen?
– Because the sugar is bad for the health and an angel decided to spare you a bit…

Why does the adjacent queue in the supermarket always go faster than the one I’m in?
– Because the devil is testing your patience …

Why are the special offers always finished by the time I get there?
– The expiration date was reached …

Why is the store always out of that special treat I had set my heart on?
– They have learned it causes cancer…

Why does it always rain on me when I don’t have a coat?
– I experiment if your hair will grow back again.

Why do I get all the dirty jobs at work?
– You work with the lazy people…

Why is it always my car which gets dumped on by the seagulls?
– Because animals feel at home with you… I didn’t know it disturbs you, my bad, I will reprogram them to ‘love’ another soul. Is your mother in law good choice?

Why does it always rain just after I have washed my car?
– I’m jealous…

Why can’t I seem to catch a break?
– You will…

Why is it always me who gets dumped on by the big, bad world?
– Hmm, I am trying to fix that for the millenniums, unfortunately … people have the free will.

Love, joy and perpetual happiness to all good people. Thank you for visiting my blog

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Frogs Need Money Too!

A frog goes into a bank and approaches the teller. He can see from her nameplate that her name is Patty Whack.

“Miss Whack, I’d like to get a $30,000 loan to take a holiday.”

Patty looks at the frog in disbelief and asks his name. The frog says his name is Kermit Jagger, his dad is Mick Jagger, and that it’s okay, he knows the bank manager.

Patty explains that he will need to secure the loan with some collateral.

The frog says, “Sure. I have this,” and produces a tiny porcelain elephant, about an inch tall, bright pink and perfectly formed.

Very confused, Patty explains that she’ll have to consult with the bank manager and disappears into a back office.

She finds the manager and says, “There’s a frog called Kermit Jagger out there who claims to know you and wants to borrow $30,000, and he wants to use this as collateral.” She holds up the tiny pink elephant. “I mean, what in the world is this?”

The bank manager looks back at her and says, “It’s a knickknack, Patty Whack. Give the frog a loan. His old man’s a Rolling Stone.”

(You sang it, didn’t you? Yeah, I know you did.)

Never take life too seriously.