Kentucky Moron …

“Uh, it’s good to see you back in the Oval Dwelling,” said the Moscowmitch. “It’s too bad you had to cut short your holiday at Mar-a-Guano.”
“I had to,” grunted the Tyrumposaurus. “I couldn’t sit there staring at the Tymelania’s gawd-awful scratchings on the wall one more minute, dammit!” …

Fixing a Hole …

The pain. Oh, the pain. The Tyrumposaurus had a splitting, smack-between-the-eyes, double-migraine headache that had him seeing stars, stripes and the red glare of ex-PLO-sion … after … ex-PLO-sion. That damn Joebiden. A pox on the Donkeykongrus. …

My Putin …

“Dad? Can I come in?”
The Tyrumposaurus looked up from his meal of day-old salamander tails. The extra-crunchy kind.
“Yes, Junior. What is it?”
“Didn’t the T-Melania tell you to stop eating those because they’ll only make your delirium worse? …

1 2 3 4 85