Tag: Belisle

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Satire The Trump Dig

Cracks Where The T-Rump Lies! …

There continue to be big cracks in the T-Rump dig. Cracks from which I’m pulling bones — with more cracks — telling quite a different story from previous analyses. Cracks beget cracks. It’s the Trumpassic news cycle. I have new evidence of previous interaction between the Tyrumposaurus and the Mexicodino, the Aussiesaurus and the Scoutzhonoraptor.

I will analyze these individually of course, but we must first place this information in its proper context. The T-Rump may well be suffering from gonzofibberlips, a rare stand-alone disorder whereby it is impossible for him to remember past events. Each day is a new Paleolithic slate, where he simply rewrites the past. It’s like 50 First Dates, only this is now closing in on 200 for poor ol’ T-Rump.

Let’s go to the bones …

The T-Rump met with the Mexicodino, wanting him to look over the Great Tex-Mex Divide, an area the T-Rump viewed as being key to his survival. I’m paraphrasing here but the unhappy Mexicodino went straight to the Mediacircustops which had the T-Rump soon intervening, telling the Mediacircustops that the Great Tex-Mex Divide was safe and that the Mexicodino should put his energy to better use by cleaning up the nearby Newhampshire-Drugg Den.

The T-Rump then bumped into the Aussiesaurus, who nodded favorably to the Obamarus migration, a multi-species mass exodus. This infuriated the T-Rump, who felt it would surely kill him, the greatest dinosaur, to let so many others — about 1250 — into the Milcanhoney Preservation. The enraged T-Rump called the meeting “dino dung” preferring a previous Putinodon meeting that went “peachy keen.” Hmm …

A final note, clinching my gonzofibberlips prognosis. Thanks to a new fossil study technique called psycho-osteo brainstem-stammering, I learned that the T-Rump claimed the Scoutzhonoraptors met him to say his presence at their meeting was the greatest thing since Sliced Ted, a wise-cracking pterodactyl. In truth however, when the young Scoutzhonoraptors heard the loud, bombastic roars of the T-Rump, they dashed pell-mell over the Head-Smashed-In Dinosaur Jump to their final, fossil resting place.

We owe a great debt to the Mediacircustops and psycho-osteo brainstem-stammering for shedding light on these incredible goings-on deep in the dark depths of the Trumpassic Period.

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Satire The Trump Dig

Scaramunchkin Munched! …

Today’s dig was right out of a monster movie. Scaramunchkin vs. Marinegunkelly, a battle royale between the small, yappy Minnymeesaurid and the Super Salamander. A classic David and Goliath struggle gone horribly wrong. Marinegunkelly is the newcomer to the oval dwelling. The tale of the tape — he’s a six-foot-long primitive amphibian with hundreds of sharp teeth in his big, flat, toilet-seat-like head.

GiantSalamander_02From day one, this dig has seen one power struggle after another. This is the nature of the Tyrumposaurus neighborhood. This latest skirmish however was one for the Mesozoic Era — the Scaramunchkin’s bones were that munched. I’ve retraced the bones to the accident scene and it apparently went down like this …

Nanometric carbon dating shows it was Marinegunkelly’s first day in the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir. He was holding court in the morning, telling old marshland security stories to the other dinosaurs, amphibious and non-swimmers alike.

“There’s a new super salamander in this oval dwelling and if you want to spend any time with the T-Rump, you have to go through me.”

The Scaramunchkin stepped forward from the crowd, waving his small arms.

“Just what we need, another freaking paranoid schizophrenic.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you’re not going to stop-block me from seeing the T-Rump. The Munchkin — that’s me — I showed up a week-and-a-half ago. I’m getting the T-Rump back on track so we can clean up this reservoir.”

The Marinegunkelly eyed him with steely reserve.

“Come closer, my little munchkin.”

“Why?” The Scaramunchkin eyed the Marinegunkelly warily.

“I think you have a leak in your ear,” said the car-sized salamander.

“Leak!? Where?” He turned to look around.

It was a trick. The toilet-seat head clamped down on the Scaramunchkin’s scrawny tail.

“A-a-a-a-g-g-g-h! Let go! What are you doing?!”

“If you want to eat an eritherium* you have to eat it one bite at a time.”

“Get off me, you stupid #$?!% salamander! You freaking frog! You #$?!% numbskull newt!”

The late-arriving Priebusunderbus stepped forward for a better view. The Scaramunchkin saw him and went Diplodocus dippy.

“Get out of here, you #$?!% Cain and Abel Cheesehead! … Before I leak your #$?!% blood!”

The Priebusunderbus kept his cool, turning to the Marinegunkelly.

Make him say, “tweet, tweet, twitter, tweet, tweet.”

This of course was the height of dinosaur insults, referring to one as a Trollertweety, or flying chicken.

The front-stabbing shot hit its mark. The Scaramunchkin’s small brain spasmed and his body went limp. He was alive but just barely, feebly mouthing the words “stop-block” over and over.

Sensing there must be something wrong with his food, the Marinegunkelly stopped chewing and released the Minnymeesaurid onto the mud. Plop.

A pair of burly Tyrumposaurae stepped forward and escorted the Scaramunchkin away from the oval dwelling to the nearby Neverland of Birthingexmates.

Game, set, oval dwelling, Marinegunkelly.

* prehistoric ancestor to the African bush elephant
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Satire

Revised Yardbirds Lineup Now Available!

They’re all here. The front page faces, the hard-to-spell names and the incredible Russian-American comradery on the day most say “it all came together.” Relive all the drama from June 9, 2016.

Soon to be available in a 24” x 36” authentic regulation welcome mat. You’ll be the envy of your neighborhood as you arrive home every day to wipe your feet on your favorite Yardbirds!

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Satire The Trump Dig

The T-Rump Dump …

More news for my unique sedimentary layer classification process known as the T-Rump Tower Profile. I struck pay dirt at the lowest level of dirt. I’m calling it the T-Rump Dump. These are the skeletons of dinosaurs that simply got in the T-Rump’s way. For several it was a fall from grace, when they were fully grazing on the Steppes of Liberteez Shield —the site of present-day Puhl-DePlugg. These dinosaurs were chewed up and spit out. The jaws of the T-Rump were merciless. Each of the specimens I discovered had mostly crushed vertebrae. It’s clear the Tyrumposaurus backed up and walked over them again.

Thus far, I emphasize thus far, the T-Rump Dump dinosaurs include …

The Flynnalexus — a bipedaling herbivore with a small head and a long neck. His name is derived from the Latin word for “pickle.”

The Sallyatesaur — a small sauropod with a short neck and stubby limbs who got in the way of the T-Rump’s migratory patterns and paid dearly for it.

The Comeyonus — a carnivorous theropod with an elegant, refined jaw. This turkey-sized prey looked to be easy pickings for the T-Rump, but must have caused massive indigestion.

And finally the Spicerator, a Mediacircustops-chasing malcontentian dinosaur. He had a very rough outer surface that rubbed the T-Rump the wrong way. They were never on the same page.

Waiting for the next dinosaur bone to drop. That’s the kind of watering hole Puhl-DePlugg was during the height — or depth — of the Trumpassic Period.

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Satire The Trump Dig

Sessionsopus & Muellersavus!

Sometimes the bones whisper. Sometimes they scream. Today was a screaming day at Puhl-DePlugg. These weren’t shouts of jubilation at the discovery of yet two more dinosaurs. This brings the total to a staggering 35. The fossilized commotion instead had the T-Rump appearing to snipe back at the two new dinos: the Sessionsopus and the Muellersavus.

The Sessionopus was a maximus-justis sauropod with a relatively complete skull. The Muellersavus meanwhile, was a titano-investigatis ankylosaurid whose bones offer a pristine view into the intricate strata of the Kremlinville Close-Mouthed Plot — the latest sedimentary layer in my T-Rump Tower classification. Its dark depth is massive.

It appears, in paleo-political parlance, that the Sessionsopus had, as a matter of course, recused himself outside of the T-Rump’s reach. This obviously left the T-Rump seething and taking aim next at the Muellersavus. There’s a curious red line in the sand between them. This may have something to do with their mytaxes returnis. This is the thick layer of green skin that dinosaurs shed each spring. It’s a painful process that all dinosaurs must undergo. Except for the T-Rump.

Walnut-sized brains aside, I can’t explain why the dinosaurs close to the T-Rump are okay with this. It can only mark the first contagious psychological disease of the Trumpassic Period. Following extensive rock-turning analysis, I have dubbed it the Lost Our Logic Syndrome or LOL.

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Satire The Trump Dig

Then There Were 8 …

How many dinosaurs can you fit in a phone booth? We’re now up to eight. That’s the problem with the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir. I was hoping for more transparency between the T-Rump and the Mediacircustops because the T-Rump is indeed cratering. Tis better to laugh than cry however. Sift on, Macduff! That would be my trusty dirt box. (Sift. Sift. Sift.)

The eighth dinosaur is the Kaveladzoma, yet another member of the Sub-Family Kayjeebeeops. Yes, you guessed it. He’s linked closely to the Agalarovenator. They’re both Lamborghinius — racing field lizards — from the Mid-to-High Crustaceous-Crocus Group Period. The Kaveladzoma, a voracious but tidy herbivore, was known to have washed his greens 1.4 billion times on 2000 different banks of the Russo-Delaware Broker Ridge.

The T-Rump may have thought this was merely an instant in time but why so many Kayjeebeeops in one place? Were the Akhmetshinesia, Kaveladzoma and Goldsopranos, a ten-ton sycophantae sauropod from the Jersey Shore Shelf all there merely to facilitate a meeting regarding baby dinos the Veselnitschemus and the T-Rump’s horde? Did this have anything to do with her being mere dirt-throwing distance from the Crookadillary?

Downward ho, Macduff! That’s paleontology! That’s politics!

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Book News

“The Dog Behind Me” … New eBook!

The Dog Behind Me is a tale of reincarnation and the latest book from David Belisle. It launched August 5 and is now available at Amazon.

A young homeless man and a stray black Labrador happen upon each other on the down-and-out streets of Calgary. The man doesn’t know it but the black Labrador is the reincarnation of his estranged father.

The Dog Behind Me is 225 pages long … Genre: Fantasy / Reincarnation … Price: $2.99.

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Satire The Trump Dig

Follow the Marrow! …

More news on the heels of the osteocollusionitis outbreak here at Puhl-DePlugg. It came to me last night as I was nodding off, dreaming of Dino in the Flintstones. I remembered a 2-day workshop I took in dinosaur forensics. It was called “Follow the Marrow.” This morning that strategy led me to a nearby dinosaur, the Browdersaurus, a huge, 15-ton foreign investaurus.

In my last report, we learned the Putinodon, Akhmetshinesia, Veselnitschemus and other Kayjeebeeops all had osteocollusionitis raging through their bones. But not the Browdersaurus. Let’s recap an epoch or two and line up the three P’s —  politico-paleo-psychoanalysis — to bring everyone up to speed.

It’s clear the Magnitskiactosaur had come between the Putinodon and greener pastures, namely Nest Egg Mountain in the distance. The Kayjeebeeops couldn’t travel freely. The Browdersaurus had close, personal ties to the Magnitskiactosaur in life and death, having shared the neighboring region of Leegull Grounds. The Browdersaurus thus put the other dinosaurs on red notice. That’s def-con 4 in dinosaur-speak. Combine this palpable pressure with the multiple bone stress fractures from his osteocollusionitis and one can imagine what a basket case the Putinodon must have been.

And what about the T-Rump? Will he intervene and provide the Putinodon safe passage to Nest Egg Mountain? Stay tuned. I have Disney on the phone. There’s money in this mud.

Categories
Satire

Amazing New Drug for PSB …

Sitting there with nothing to do? Feeling like your imagination has left you?
You may be one of 143 million Americans who suffer from PSB. Plain Simple Boredom. Fortunately there is relief for your lackadaisical ways. Screwitol.

This new drug has been clinically proven in double blind tests on three blind mice. Screwitol was designed when, on a lark, the makers at Freemoney harmaceuticals mixed an intense anti-laxative with highly concentrated prune juice. The result is Screwitol — an internal smoldering volcano that will get you out of your chair within minutes. You may want to consult your physician or put your affairs in order due to the following side effects:

  • Upon taking your first horse pill of Screwitol, consider yourself screwed.
  • In most cases your boredom will initially increase before you suffer excruciating, mind-numbing, wish-you-were-dead pain … like giving birth and passing a kidney stone at the same time.
  • Blood will indeed come out of your eyes and ears.
  • Genetic defects from your ancestry will quickly return.
  • Do not take with food or water unless you want to projectile vomit.
  • You will wish you had a shattered knee cap instead.
  • Other symptoms include Black Plague-like lesions, goosebumps that giddily turn into warts in a rapid onset of leprosy that would give even Mother Teresa pause.
  • You will experience Buyer’s Remorse and want to give away all your money.
  • You will find yourself clipping coupons that expired 20 years ago.
  • You will believe you’re a zombie from Walking Dead.
  • You will go blind.
  • Your toes will curl up and fall off.
  • Your belly button will blast off, mortally wounding a friend or someone close.
  • You will consider self-immolation.
  • All your appendages will fall off one by one.
  • Your flatulence will be chemical weapon calibre.
  • Doctors recommend not blowing your nose. Your head will explode.
  • You will grow a Siamese twin.
  • Your tongue will no longer taste and your teeth will fall out.
  • You will enter a hypnotic state and not lawyer up whenever you hear the word Screwitol.
  • You will lose all sensory perception.
  • Your pets will no longer love you.
  • You will never sleep again.
  • You will never eat again.
  • You will never love again.
  • You will never do anything — worthwhile — again.
Fight back against PSB and end your boredom now with Screwitol. Your last week of life depends on it. Ask for it by name and say it loud. Prices will increase upon reading this.
(This is a satirical piece. Please like, follow, or comment. Do not send money.)