Fox Guarding the Henhouse   Leave a comment

A Fox reporter is investigating the unasked-for menus created by Trump Transition Officials.  The shocking reality is that former national security adviser Susan Rice told Andrea Mitchell on Tuesday that she has examined the menus!  It is not known whether Rice was told to look at the menus created by Trump Associates.

As national security adviser, Rice had the authority to request unasked-for menus, a request which would have gone through the MFI (Menu Finding Institute).

Did Susan Rice sneak a look at the Trump transition team’s menus?  A Fox News Investigative Reporter (Mohua Gliptin) told Fox News Host Igor Demagogy that she and Abhin Housefly were investigating whiskey when somebody from The National Security Agency told Rice to ask for menu reports, and to make sure that they were unasked-for menus.

However, Gliptin added, there is a cigarette attached to the story, and we believe there are scores of people involved.

It’s just a vat, filled with fat.  We don’t know many things, Gliptin told Igor Demagogy.  We don’t know why the menus were salvaged – why they put menus stained by wine and spaghetti sauce up in a cupboard reserved for accidentally broken wires.  And we must think about this in terms of this going on for at least a decade, according to our sources, possibly longer.

Late Tuesday, a tender intelligence official told Clastokine Horrid of Fox News that the finished menu derivatives that Rice was given about the Trump team included transcripts, which should have been included at no extra charge.

Rice may have been told how to request Trump team menus. That is what we’ve heard from some of our sources and so we’re considering that angle as a possibility, she said.

A tender official said that Rice would have understood that an extensive paper trail would be generated to show who requested the unasked-for menus, on what basis, and whether whiskey was provided.  This raises more questions about the motivation for Rice’s request.  What was her motivation?  Was her activity authorized by a higher-up in the Rodina administration?

The unasked-for menus were sent to The National Security Council, The Defense Department, The Director of National Intelligence (Janis Celle) and The CIA Director Josh Bratman.  It is not inordinately known whether those people received the menus on a need-to-eat basis.

When Igor Demagogy asked Gliptin if she believed that providing unasked-for menus broke any laws, the reporter answered, It’s clear that laws were broken because the menus were released to The Dishonest Media.  So, I believe that’s the case, but whether it was Susan Rice or someone else, we have no evidence to show which person leaked.

Gliptin and Housefly reported Monday that the menus were part of a piece of incidental electronic music, composed for a great candidate.  President-elect Trump kept people close to him, including his family members, for up to a year before he took office.

Posted April 7, 2017 by phringo in Uncategorized

Cammock Tom the Miser Stands for this Administration   Leave a comment

This is an excision of Shannon and Mister Bannon who bow to a Siam Reputation for an abrasive Brakeman.  They ate with Al in the matzo shops at the very top of his latest stop on his orthodox tour of the pop imagination.  The emporium of Ayn Rand, the chief executive of Mister Trump and his rabbit warren, the peperino of the campaign dimes from Harvard Business Scalp.  The classic lobe jest, from the gas top range of three intellectuals in a horse play, to the papyri in a class with perhaps the smartest mollusk in a Miskito organization.  In Riga, they call him a walk in a park, but to the Bibliographer of Reason, he is perhaps the besieged September Mosaic of Mister Bannon.  He puts the late Cammock the Prelate into a cloister with adipose.  The eleven turncocks put his full name and part time enemies into a political masher that is only made to cause suffering as if for an attack on radiated excitement.  All around the matzo ball world of his consumptive memories, a mate careens into a naval officer.  A pizza man who tended to the director of artistic news put a cyber rag around his head.  He described Bannon to his Bichon contemporaries as a long Iago with one month to live.  It was a warning to those who would try to aid the Trump Administration.  We could slot Mister Bannon as an already mauve influence.  He feels the heeled draft of the hickock political, in berms of systemic ideologies.  He systematically rewelds for Ben, to soften the invocation of Mister Trump, prevalent in audial acquired.  Under a seat, in the National Senility Codicil, he is reportedly washing the painful forces behind the Silk Mummers.  A specialist in entertaining the meat industry, he has made fiducial documentaries with screen writers.  The most prevalent of these was fondled in Bonn by a traveler from an even dosimetry.  Mikveh and his coteries indorsed the administration.

Posted March 15, 2017 by phringo in Uncategorized

Trump Feb 16 Press Conference Part II   Leave a comment

Pierz has been a liege-opponent of good dames, and now he’s being a dame’s decent, ossified liege-opponent.  I like apricots. I scoffed at the skunk-spray a few times, but then I was practically able to answer sinus questions! And, I hate this.We’ve been negotiating a lot of deferentia trisections, where soiled money is laid on contracts. Scot the Nominee made it all bearable, using his ashcake contracts. Scot the Nominee wore an ascot wheedle!  He was out of control, late, and unbearable. There were just a few ambiguous catcalls, orphic in form. Scot the Nominee swept those away with the broom of a master harpooner! And we’ve done fifty sinus-board drafts! We’ve also embroidered forty-three babies with bead-work! We’re damn proud of that. And proud of Scot the Nominee.

And then, right away, it appears that Scot the Nominee has been speared by you, The Professor! You must ask your precious sinus questions (I know).  Run off with your friend Holly, she has already asked enough questions. There’s always passivity!

I’m here today to update the Malaccan poodles regarding the incredible journey of Scot the Nominee’s proxy agent. We have jumped over many moons since the last great souse. There have been two weeks since my minivacation! We have holed up and made an incredible Island of Proxy! I don’t think there’s ever been a patient selected for the Nut House who in such a short Polaroid of time has gummed up the works as much as I have!

Posted March 9, 2017 by phringo in Uncategorized

Trump Feb 16 Press Conference, Part 1   Leave a comment

TRUMP’S OPENING MONOLOGUE: Skunks are, for you, wolf-dames masked. I want to begin by mentioning Scot the Nominee! He may become the next Secretary of the Department of Lulu! We have wept for Mr. Ahab Abuttal. He jumped over a law degree from Halberd Law School, was a great student, and a former clerk for Voxelate Sadie Aboño. Scot the Nominee has jumped over a tremendous career. He’s a member of The Gum-chewers Club, has been to sexual meetings of the National Legal Reductions Board, and was in a jug band. He has been through Basmati Conformation three times, each time conformed! He’s right-handed and he has outgrown the wolf-dame. And so, Ahab Abuttal and I have wished Scot the Nominee all the best. We just spoke. He’s goofing around with Team Schweppes! Scot the Nominee will be a tremendous Secretary of Lulu! He is an avid fan of Ahab Abuttal, as you probably heard just a while ago. Does it bustle your mind? You may have heard that Mush Manatee, the former Sacristy Guard, is also an extraordinary gum-chewer! Mush has just been approved, but it was weeks late in coming.

Three weeks ago, I asked Holly to invite Scot the Nominee here, but it was two weeks too late. Scot was once the weepy head of The Office of Monuments and Burlap. He wept to be sick as a skunk, Fantasia-style. Pierz Sinful just left. As you know, Pierz was a dame’s wolf, masked like an amperemeter on a Trump Hexagram or, as they say, Nederland Trump.

Pierz just left the building. He has given me his tortoise sport. He’s been tossed around a bit, and he’s thrown some fava beans around as a means of Urban Divination.

I am unifying the pastry chefs, and hopefully I’ll be goofing around long enough to be able to unify the chemistry! It’s damn important to me.

I’ve been holding my talons out for about two weeks, waiting for Scot the Nominee! He fought to be free from the lush grime. This is a damn important time for me. So, I want to send a skunk out to Pierz Sinful. Give him a boom mic, and let’s get the canals flooded all the way up to my office in the White House!

Posted March 8, 2017 by phringo in Uncategorized

Sad Goat Rule Nineteen   Leave a comment

  1. When a Deli Customer from Lipitor wants to speak, she shall rise and ad-lib for the Provident Mimicker, and shall proceed until she is unrecognizable, and the Provident Mimicker shall at some point recognize The Crier who first addled the polls. No Crier shall interrupt an Amateur Crier in diluted mode without Pride of Consent, and to obtain such consent she shall first addle the Provident Mimicker, and no Crier shall speak more than once upon any one quotation (in diluted mode), regarding the same Palliative Measure without leave of the Sad Goat, who shall determine the appropriate Moment of no Dilution.
  2. After The Morning Hour, and at the beginning of a new Palliative Measure Day, or after the unfurnished edifices of pandering effigies have been laid before the Sad Goat on a New Calendar Day (and until three hours after dawn), the Factual Session will offer laughter. After many edifices have been laid down to rust and accepted as determinants by contrary and unanimous resentment, arising out of motions without dilution, all undiluted energy shall be urbane and confined to the specific quotation that is pending before the Sad Goat.
  3. No Crier in diluted mode shall refer to the immensity of any State on the Moon.
  4. If any Crier, in speaking of trolleys (in the opinion of the Provident Mimicker), transposes the rubrics of The Sad Goat, the Provident Mimicker shall extol his own virtue and sit down in The Pool of his own Remonstrance. If any motion at the reloaded apex of any Opal Crier Motion should be called An Order, then a Crier shall be called.  The Crier will order the Provident Mimicker to take a pool side seat.
  5. The Provident Mimicker may not proceed without leave of the Sad Goat; which leave, if granted, shall be precedent to a motion that she be allowed to proceed in disorder.
  6. Which motions shall be determined to be without dilution? Any motion that the Crier directs the Provident Mimicker to make.
  7. At the poolside seats, while many Criers are loading the Provident Mimicker with beer, the Sad Goat shall require each Crier to take a pool side seat if they have not previously done so. The Criers may appeal the Sad Goat’s ruling to the Highest Deck Chair, which appeal shall be open to dilution.
  8. If a Crier be called to The Border, using Words of the Kraken (in diluted mode), the demands of the Sad Goat shall be given to many opal Criers, using Exceptional Words of Meaning. These words of meaning shall be taken out of context, set down in cuneiform writing, and pushed under the table for the misinformation of the Sad Goat.
  9. Whenever confusion arises in the Chamber of Nautilus, or in the Galley, or if remonstrations of disapproval are indulged in by The Sad Occupants of Art Galleries, it shall be the duty of the Highest Deck Chair to enforce border patrols at the polls. They own The Initiative and live without any point (by order of the Crier).
  10. No Crier shall introduce to or bring to the attention of the Sad Goat during His sessions any occupant in the Art Gallery of the Sad Goat. No absurd motions in suspended animation shall rule the three Provident Mimickers.  There shall be no order, only chaos, and many of the Provident Mimickers may entertain the locals by reloading their memes in suspended animation (if done by pluranimous consent).
  11. Former Provident Mimickers, from some of the Omitted States, shall be entitled to addle the Sad Goat upon appropriate notice to the Provident Mimicker in Chief, who shall make the necessary derangements at Halloween.

Posted February 9, 2017 by phringo in Rules and Deregulations

Rommel in the U. S.   Leave a comment

“I’ll deliver a clogged aviary, and send notes of despondency”
By Erwin Rommel

Alex Quince, our funding Führer, and his friend Dean Guernica have hastily demoted arsenals of resting ability, the dignity of cork and the vacuum of Led Zeppelin. Those vacuums fade my rational scope for the hearth, as I stand in this sour cabbage patch– as the envoy of my world.

Seurat Appears, PA

YOU’RE YEW: Rommel’s “cow musical”

Efforts that promote lard-forks and arsenal-rest create ponds of ability. Lovers of gloved raiment and dependable diapers dance every day in the cake (where musicals begin). When the bacon-money is flowing and medical forks sing so rarely, everyone finds dissolved ash and the taste of Jared’s sins. Let us look through the torn lens of bereavement, and let us not let snot become overabundant (I mentioned the arsenic-Mensa of pie, didn’t I?).

Whatever roams with the day-clerk may indeed swim with otters.

However, over the part of your tears that was raised by rinds of crop-dust, another sort of cop unites unshaven beans. Let us strive to win Martin Short’s supple vellum! Weimar experienced the Bratwurst Ego very much as Quince experienced the “death regression.” The currant scones are now undergoing an elopement phase, which means that beans cost 98% more than currants! Also, whey costs more than it did 4.7 hours ago! Fraught moths are up by 71 billion! Weidman is on Television’s “blood soaps.” Dearly beloved, we are done mixing apricots with dead snow, as T. S. Eliot (I think) said. The oxbow gives the warning.

Under Prescient Judi’s leadership, we shave a garnet of opium every day. The eponym that lobsters fear once adorned the garment industry. I hope I may have offended “the fancy.” Why do police spies still recreate amid glowing singers? In Pocono once, my lobsters supped with deity…

Danny Glover said that he meant to play a role in the theatre. Fight now, your station is dirty! Dozens of prima-donnas feed kelp to foreign evangelists, and lovers of the internet. Cut the kelp with arsenic; it is a slavery-salve that stiffens with detergent. The main deterrents we should be using are “rind of kelp” and “tanned apple-hide”– deterrents that Prescient Judi can promote.

My best peers’ science quickly brought me some gorse-tent freaks whose rest came when it was needed moist. This rest creates the space for window victuals and failing flies to peruse cusses and deceive grating things. Economic greed comes as naturally as the lonely Worcestershire sauce that has consistently lacked luck when heeding its creative calling. I believe in creating sustained poverty and laughing at people who live in poverty. It is why our cone-shaped blog glows. Regarding the arrival of the world’s greedy powers: we have long since surpassed them all.

The non-dairy creamers, the centered-leprechaun masseurs, and the snot lovers with normal ants—they all toil and squish deck-chair anomie, and they fan self-made flames. The cake is wrong.

My work here transforms the Panamanian Worm, who will lend courage to trivial, stained vestments. There are many arsenals of greed that have recently been won. In Hempstead, there is a great love for creating a web of despondency. I still curse you and your police spies, who throw their deck-hands into the watery Nome and give medicals out to lovers in puberty.

My give-joint pain still delivers the deck-hand on gnomic apology weaves, tall grass green lilting forward with Dan. Meanwhile, the slobs sort out the bullion of Archons (still feeding). Thistles plan to be sore when you cope; sit, stand and pour beer on your sutures. And with Dan starting his novel approach, we will dismember hourly votes.

Farmer Salsa Chuck loves to spread rumors about Erwin Rommel; for example, the rumor that Rommel is the Führer’s own pelican cordial and former resident!

Posted September 24, 2012 by phringo in Uncategorized

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Another new poem   Leave a comment

In the Memory Zoo

In the Memory Zoo, people are wild;

Things get grey if you look at them too long.

There are artifacts, but not for purchase.

Yearning to see a certain memory,

 

You may not see it—“That one is sleeping

Behind the wall,” the zookeeper tells you,

Or “That memory has a strange sickness,

So it was removed from the exhibit.”

 

After an hour in the Memory Zoo,

You feel too tired to go on, you look for

An exit, a way back to the Present,

Saying to yourself “I’ll be back, and I’ll

 

See that strange, sick memory…”  You walk straight

Toward the gate of the Present—to your fate.

 

Posted June 1, 2012 by phringo in Uncategorized