Archive for June, 2012

Jimmy Carter

June 29, 2012

Long ago, well before I was born, conceived or even really pondered, the nation say one of its greatest presidents come and go. He stood up for the underprivileged and downtrodden, and changed the nation and the world for the better.

Unfortunately, that’s another 500 words.

Jimmy Carter become president about a decade before I was born. He reigned for a meager 4 years before the general public finally put him out of his misery.

And in this 4 years, America saw the grips of a heinous, terrorizing attack upon the president.

I’ll set the scene:

In mid-1979, our prestigious president Carter took a little trip on his hallowed fishing boat. He slogged his way through the swamps in his hometown in good ol’ Georgia. He wanted to have some alone time, so he decided a solo fishing trip would be the best way to achieve that.

But then, he trolled up to the Gates of Hell and snagged his line on the balls of Satan himself!

From the far-off shore approached a beast that few had survived, one that had haunted and taunted the surrounding areas for centuries:

the dreaded swamp rabbit!

The monstrosity paddled angrily towards the thin metal shell keeping our National Treasure from a grimy, briny grave. He bolted through the water slightly faster than a normal rabbit ever could and came upon the boat.

Thankfully, Carter had faced these demons before. He knew what to do!

He threw his pole and line into the bottom of the boat and retrieved the paddle that took him out into the middle of the sludge pool and left him so vulnerable to attack.

Wielding it like a lifelong blacksmith wields his deadly black hammer, Jimmy Carter came down hard with the paddle. He plunged it’s broadest side deeply into the dark depths of the quagmire and brought the deadly tool up into the air. He repeated the deadly motion time and time again, dragging unearthly waves, ungodly typhoons from the darkest, dankest depths of that Georgia swamp.

When all was said and done, the rabbit returned to the shore, vanquished but knowing that its life from then on would better for having tangled with a man of Carter’s wit, will and strength.

He continued his leisure time as if nothing had occurred.

Afterwards, Carter recounted the tale to media outlets nationwide.

In the fashion frequently found in the greatest of men, such as himself, Carter underplayed the entire happening, playing it off like it was nothing.

He claimed that the rabbit simply “jumped in the water and swam toward my boat. When he got almost there, I splashed some water with a paddle.” So understated, so untrue, but so like President Jimmy Carter.

But the true is, it was captured on video. The world will always know of the epic struggle between man and beast that took place that day, and with the help of the Internet, no one can ever take that away!



This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks to Sam Jones for this string of politically-minded posts.

Good thing I have found a few ways to spice them up or views might be down.

Truly ghjr


George Bush

June 25, 2012

This world has seen its fair share of George Bushs. More than enough, if you ask me.

I can’t go on record to say that they are both national embarrassments or that they were dangerous individuals that turned into the country’s worst presidents.

I don’t know enough about all the presidents to be able to make that claim.

But, at various points in their time in the Oval Office’s grand spotlight, both George and G.W. have shown their bumbling idiot sides.

Imagine, if you will, that our President has taken a trip to Japan. It’s mid-January, 1992.

Perhaps the President has a 24-hour bug. Perhaps he got a hold of some bad sushi and unsettled his already weak stomach in his doubles tennis match earlier that day.

Perhaps he just hated Japan.

Who knows.

Either way, imagine the shining eye of the television stations capturing a live feed of George H.W. Bush as he begins spewing the food of the Japanese back onto its creators.

Imagine Barb holding napkins over his face in an effort to contain that royal vomit.

We all know that that never works, but dammit, Barbara was going to try.

The Bushes were surrounded by 135 Japanese diplomats. At an important state event.

Held at the home of the Japanese Prime Minister.

Now, we can all understand how embarrassing this is. After all, I’m sure we’ve all had an experience with public puking.

Either way, it’s quite an embarrassment, enough to keep the vomiter red in the face well after the burst blood vessels from the force of the trauma subside.

But, little G.W. was enough to keep Bush, Sr.’s face red for the remainder of his days.

Now, keep in mind that I’m not here to discuss his foreign policy, his need to drop our country (and others) into an endless, unnecessary war or even his post-9/11 stunt of continuing to read “Chompy the Goat” to a class full of naive, drool-dripping booger-eaters.

That’s right… I’m talking about the pretzel. The pretzel that almost ended a presidency.

Throughout all the stress and uncertainty of the events of 9/11, Bush aged indefinitely. The stress took much toll on him, leaving him vulnerable to the attacks of one of his closest friends: the crispy, salty pretzel.

Almost ten years to the day, a full, complete decade after food betrayed his father, the delicious snack would then betray G.W. as well.

Late one night, as Bushie chomped on his delightful treats, one went rogue, breaking off from the pack and travelling down the wrong pipe.

Bushie fell, hitting his head and losing consciousness for a few seconds. Sadly, he was quickly revived and allowed to continue with his presidency.

It’s a shame the pretzel failed to take him out. I’m sure the next few years would have run more smoothly with Cheney calling the shots.

Oh, wait…



This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks to Sam Jones for starting out this coming political trilogy.

I’m not so big on politics anymore, but I’m always big on making fun of famous people.

Some say that’s what I do best. Other say (insert perverse sexual innuendo here).


Truly ghjr


June 22, 2012

Sometimes, people have very strong feelings about certain foods.

Personally, I love really spicy foods, but I know others can’t handle that kind of heat.

I’m very partial to ham sandwiches and Chinese, and I’m generally less than enthusiastic about Italian food and quite a few vegetables.

I’ll eat them every once and again, but I’m not one to go around everyday chomping on lasagna or zucchinis.

Of course, there are some foods I absolutely hate. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, but the pairing of mint and chocolate is high up on my bad foods shit list.

I think we all know that by now, but just in case not, I thought I should include that.

But, everyone has those foods that they are completely on the fence about.

For me, bananas are at the top of the list.

Sure, they are great for acting like a monkey, and the peels have played a major part in physical comedy in the century, but I’ve always been very up and down about bananas.

When I was in grade school, my mother packed me basically the same lunch everyday. Pepperoni roll, juice box, a couple small cookies, and a banana.

Every once in a while, we splurged on Lunchables, but food stamps buy far more flour and pepperoni than pre-packaged lunches.

I always enjoyed my lunches, until after a while, I started losing my taste for bananas. Nothing was wrong with the fruits themselves. They were the same fresh brand we had always bought.

My tastes just changed. Simple as that.

Plus, one of the kids in class kept saying that I always smelled like bananas. I didn’t like that, but mainly because I couldn’t smell. I didn’t know what bananas smelled like, whether it was pungent or pleasant.

I stopped eating bananas.

Soon, I enjoyed them again. The taste buds changed on me again as I grew.

But then, I stopped eating them again. I was a teenager then, and I suppose I had some weird sort of thought that it felt a little gay to eat bananas.

Not sure why. Frankly, it’s a stupid thought, but teens are always worried about the image they portray.

As I grew, I learned to accept the banana, and still partake of one occasionally.

The other thing that changed was my taste for banana bread. I never enjoyed it when I was younger. To me, bread was bread and sweets were sweets. But I love it now

I’ll admit, I eat the bread more often than the banana, but I do still have one every once and again.

And yes, I do sometimes feel like a monkey when I eat one, but I never feel gay or anything like that.

I’ve grown, just as my tastes have. And I’ve matured a lot along the way.

But, it’s still fun to act like a monkey.



This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks to Sam Jones letting me monkey around on this one a bit.

I am in my “pro-banana” stage right now, and writing this only made me want to eat one or two.

But, I’ll never understand what they smell like.

Apparently, the scent is alluring enough to make Dexter Horn eat his Smencil.

Truly ghjr