One of Trump’s recent childish/whiny Tweets inspired a barrage of puns, so for those of you who appreciate a good pun, here were a few responses:
The other night I went to the restroom to pee. It was sometime after six, I think, and I was winding down my work day. I rounded the corner, and came to the restroom door and saw that it was being cleaned by an older gentleman. I said that I could come back later, which basically meant that I would just hold it until I got home, but he was gracious and pleasant and told me to use the restroom, please.
I sent an email to a client recently, sending them some forms that I had completed and requesting their approval. It was a small project that, upon the client’s approval, we would then file with the appropriate agencies, etc. The response was prompt, “Excellent, thank you.” Being new to the firm and quite unfamiliar with our clients, I was confused: was the reply message approving the forms and the filing? Or was the client merely acknowledging receipt of the forms? I wasn’t sure, so I forwarded the message to the partner who handles this client and asked her whether this was an approval or an acknowledgement. Her response: Excellent, thank you!
Note: This hilarious segment has little to do with Brexit and a good deal more to do with a steamy story, read in a completely non-steamy way, by Gilbert Gottfried, recounting a completely unsexy erotic encounter with Big Foot.
Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, the Democratic Socialist heading to Congress after that yuge and most excellent didn’t-see-that-coming grassroots victory, had a bit of a snarky exchange with a conservative over the weekend. It started with a Tweet by Ocasio-Cartez: how is Columbus Day a holiday but Election Day not? The Daily Mail’s U.S. political editor David Martosko quote tweeted Ocasio-Cortez and wrote that she “hasn’t even started the job yet and she’s already angling for more vacation days.”
Question: If you had the chance, would you consider living someone else’s life?
It’s getting a bit cold in my tent, these September mornings. I wake up, I feel a blast of cold air hitting my face as my head pokes itself out from my cocoon of sleeping bag and blankets, and then I glance at the thermometer next to my bed. If it shows 40 degrees or higher, it’s a warm morning. Needless to say, I’m looking forward to warm Cali weather and Santa Cruz sun, coming in just a few short weeks. But I’m not the only one traveling to California. Our classy Ex-Prex is kicking off a tour around California, as regards that hoped-for “Blue Wave” victory in the November Midterms. However, this is not a political post. It’s about words, and on that count I have to question Obama’s choice of words.