https://www.podbean.com/media/share/pb-nmhc2-d10b80
We dig through some classic dinosaur rock to arrive at this week’s show: Day 1096 — “Poor, Poor Pitiful Me” … the miserable T-Rump wallows in impeachment hell … and Day 1100 — “53-47” … the Zeppelinsaurus ventures down a famous path that all dinos are destined to walk. Enjoy. A tip of the tail to Linda Ronsdadt and Led Zeppelin.
“Chief Justice, I just want to reiterate that the Donkeykongrus did not allow us due process when they deposed the few dinos that slipped through our hands into that subterranean chamber we forgot all about. It’s a crime that that happened. A down-and-out, filthy, abhorrent, despicable crime. And it is with that bad taste of utter disgust in my mouth that I yield my time to my colleague, the Jaysekulow.”
The Jaysekulow approached the flat rock lectern and dramatically slapped tails with the Patcippollone as they passed each other. The Patcippollone pumped his fist.
“Just like the M-B-S. Oops. Did I say that?”
“Chief Justice,” said the Jaysekulow, “this whole thing is a charade of a bad dream of an enigma wrapped in dino dung. I mean, c’mon. Really?” He wiped his brow. “And now, I’m going to start yelling.” He paused to look at the Adamschiff. “I can’t believe you’re charging the T-Rump, our leader, with a crime! You can’t! He didn’t commit a crime and even if he did, you can’t charge him with one! Don’t you understand? We win both ways. Both ways! Okay?! I yield, dammit! Because you guys make me so mad.”
He shook himself like a wet dog and returned to his squatting post. The Patcippollone returned, their tail slaps badly whiffing in mid-air this time, the Jaysekulow losing his balance and falling down, only infuriating him more. The Chief Justice stifled a grin.
“Chief Justice,” said the Patcippollone, “I want to get back to that subterranean chamber thing …”
And so it went for the next two hours. The Patcippollone and the Jaysekulow tag-teaming the same half dozen tired talking points, regurgitating lies and half-chewed locusts as defense legal dinos for the Tyrumposaurus on Day One of his impeachment trial.
The Sin Hut dinos were not allowed to leave. Carnivores had to eat grass. That left the herbivores on a 12-hour fast. They also couldn’t stray too far to pee. With 100 Sin Hut dinos in place, nearby trees paid the price. The changing wind and the resulting urine scent wafting through the chamber only soured the monotony of the Cippollone-Sekulow sideshow.
Off to the side, the Zeppelinsaurus squatted, watching dinos from both sides laying down the groundwork of the trial. The rules. There was the Moscowmitch calling the shots, his turtle-like head lolling about as he looked around, head then bobbing up and down at the odd chuckle of his smug prowess. Overseeing the shenanigans of his supposed best and brightest.
Upset at the goings on, the Zeppelinsaurus rose from his squat. There appeared to be little or no headway for the Donkeykongrus in the Sin Hut today. Vote after vote along dino species lines. The Zeppelinsaurus left the proceedings, starting down a long path leading to … nowhere he thought. What does this all mean? Common sense as well had left the proceedings. The leader of the free-running dino world had bribed a foreign dino leader for damaging information on a rival in the next battle campaign. Under normal circumstances, a dino leader would be ripped apart for such a transgression. The Donkeykongrus had duly impeached the T-Rump and now the Grandoldparty dinos, led by the Moscowmitch, were trying to pretend it never happened.
“Oh, we may listen to your relevant evidence at some point,” the Moscowmitch had said. “You’ll, heh-heh, have to trust me on that one.”
The Zeppelinsaurus’ subdued nature set in like a cold fog. He frowned at the path he’d ventured down. Deep in the jungle, trudging downhill through a muddy morass. Would life itself take a tumble? He worried and fretted about what was happening. Sleepless nights of tossing and turning jumbled thoughts over in his mind. Where was the hope of a better day? Where was the promise of tomorrow? He kept thinking about that woman. That female dino in the Sin Hut. Being a creative dino of sorts, words came to him along with a haunting melody, helping to release this melancholy mindset that his heart, his conscience could hold onto no longer.
There’s a lady who’s old, Susancollins we’re told
And she’s why we’re at 53-47
When she gets there, who knows, will her mind still be closed
With a word she can get what she came for
Ooh, ooh, and she’s why we’re at 53-47
They are deaf to it all but she wants to be sure
‘Cause you know Adam’s words are compelling
In a trial by the book, there’s a jailbird who sings
Someday all of the evidence will be given
Ooh, he’ll put us under
Ooh, he’ll put us under
There’s a feeling I get when Mitch lies at his worst
And my stomach is crying for heaving
In my thoughts I have seen rings of conspiracy
And the voices of those lock-step marching
Ooh, he’ll put us under
Ooh, he’ll really put us under
And it’s obvious soon, if we don’t change the tune
Then the T-Rump will lead us to treason
And a new hell will burn for those standing strong
And all justice will join the hereafter
Just watch the ripple in the swamp grow, all those in the know
It’s just recycling for the fake king
Yes, there are two loops you can be in, both the wrong one
There’s still time to leave this cult you’re in
And he’ll put us under
Their heads are turning and four won’t go, because they don’t know
How T-Rump will come down upon them
Dear Susan, can you hear the real blow, “a favor though?”
Your legacy now in the grand dust bin
And as we find no truth to hold
And Rachelmaddow calms our soul
There walks the Collins we all know
She shines a light that doesn’t show
How everyone is bought and sold
And the stonewall so very hard
Obstruction to the very last
Democracy now in peril
Once our rock and now a hole
And she’s why we’re at 53-47
………………………………
You can hear the musical version of today’s post and previous T-Rump Digs at my podcast site at Podbean. Two new T-Rump tracks every Saturday. Enjoy!
The Tymelania looked scornfully down her long, scaly snout at her husband, the Tyrumposaurus.
“I cannot … I will not take this any more. I am tired of the way the other dinosaurs treat me. I say Be Best and they laugh. That is not Be Best. That is Be Wildly Wicked. Wildly wicked, I’m telling you.”
With her thick accent, her w’s sounded like throaty, drawn-out v’s. Wildly wicked sounded like ‘vildly vicked.’
“Vickie? Vicky who? I’m sorry, Tymelania. What were you saying?”
“T-Rump, you are not even listening to me! What is wrong with you?”
“Well, excuse me. There’s this little thing going on right now — an impeachment? Only the third time in history. That’s me, thank you very much. Could you maybe cut me some slack. Just a teensy little bit?”
She had to give him that. Still, the way he treated her. She felt like she’d been tossed out of the Oval Dwelling herself a long time ago. About two days after moving in. Think of Baron. Think of Baron. Her mind played over those three words, her soothing, daily mantra.
“What can I do for you? What is? I will listen. I will be best.”
“What is it? Are you blind?”
“I think you mean deaf.”
“I’m being impeached for crying out loud. And I didn’t even do anything wrong! It was the perfect conversation.”
“You mean like the one we’re having now? Okay. I listened to you. Now you will listen to me.”
God, he hated when she said it like that. Like he owed it to her. He didn’t owe her anything. He’d beat the damn pre-nup. No, he didn’t owe anybody anything. The authorities were idiots. They were all wrong.
“Okay, okay,” he said, in a fake attempt to calm things down. “You’re right. I should probably listen to you more. I just need you to listen to my new song first. Then I will give you some moolah-moolah and meet with you later.”
“This is me you’re talking to. Not the Zelensky! And I am not going to listen to your song. It only makes me angry. How can you sing when I’m so upset? Do you even see my frown?”
She turned in a huff and left.
“Fine!” He hollered after her. “I will sing it myself. And listen to it myself. I’m doing everything by myself. Because I am the stable genius. Remember?”
With that he was in the perfect mood. A melancholy state that lent itself to the low-key mental state required for his latest musical lamentation.
Well I need more lawyers to talk more smack
Waitin’ on Giuliani
But Mitch don’t want Rudy here no more
Poor poor pitiful me
Poor poor pitiful me
Poor poor pitiful me
Why are they doin’ this to me?
They’re all dopes and babies!
Woe woe is me
Well, all my cronies, the swamp neighborhood
We’re all just playin’ games
Well, Pelosi worked me over good
Just like Letitia James
Yes, they said impeachment was for good
They are a disgrace to their gender
If I change one falsehood, Lord
My base will go on a bender
Poor poor pitiful me
Poor poor pitiful me
Levparnas won’t let me be
Get Williambarr for me
Woe woe is me
Well, I had a bad dream the other day
Caused me lots of trauma
McCain picked me up and threw me down
He said “You ain’t no Obama.”
Poor poor pitiful me
Poor poor pitiful me
Adamschiff won’t let me be
Dershowitz works for free
Woe woe is me
Poor poor poor me
Poor poor pitiful me
Poor poor poor me
Poor poor pitiful me
Poor poor poor me
Poor poor pitiful me
………………………………
You can hear the musical version of today’s post and previous T-Rump Digs at my podcast site at Podbean. Two new T-Rump tracks every Saturday. Enjoy!
https://www.podbean.com/media/share/pb-k6xph-d0183d
We have two terrific T-Rump tracks for you this week: Day 1089 — “Intent and Imminence” … The Mincepencenow wonders what in the strawberry alarm clock is going on? … and Day 1093 — “The Power of Lev” … The Levparnas opens up. Feel the power!
The Igorfruman looked outside his cave and sighed. He was under cave arrest. His wife had left him the week before, leaving him with their three children in this dank 200-square foot cave. He couldn’t even take his kids to school. He worried about having to home-school them. If he taught them, would that necessarily lead them to a life of crime?
He kicked a stone in frustration. That damn Levparnas. Oh, sure, they’d once been good buddies. He’d introduced Lev to all his Ukraine Plain contacts who then immediately fell in line when the Rudygiuliani told them that Lev was working on behalf of the Tyrumposaurus himself. Part of the T-Rump team. Part of the cult.
Everything was sailing along until he and Lev were busted for bringing moolah-moolah leaves into the Milkanhoney Preservation and spreading them amongst eager Grandoldparty dinos. Dinos who even more eagerly gave the moolah-moolah back after he and Lev were popped.
But then the Levparnas had done something strange. He decided to talk. No sane dino with Russodino ties ever talked. It was a surefire recipe for extinction. Except history would be recorded differently. The Levparnas spoke with the trail-blazing Mediacircustops dino, the Rachelmaddow, and became an overnight sensation. So much so that Grandoldparty dinos were quaking in their footsteps. It was Levparnas this, Levparnas that. They were even singing songs about him now. Well, one song anyway. But they sung it a lot. Every hour on the hour, some new hip, young group of dinos would saunter past his cave, wailing away. This of course made it rather difficult to get the song out of his mind.
He heard footsteps coming down the path. Yep. Top of the hour. More Levparnas. Look out.
The power of Lev is a bombshell thing
Lev Parnas secrets to expose the king
Make them squawk, make their heartbeats rev
Send them all reeling, that’s the power of Lev
The Ukraine scandal, spillin’ the beans
Now we know who’s on the B-L-T team
Yovanovitch, you see, was followed that night
Power of Lev, it brings the truth to light
Poor Zelensky, T-Rump’s game
Pompeo, Pence, Barr; they all share the blame
It’s wrong, it’s corrupt, Lev knows it’s showtime
Comin’ clean just saved his life
That’s the power of Lev
That’s the power of Lev
First time Pence felt it, mother got so mad
Pompeo felt it, he’ll lose all he had
But we’re all so glad for what Lev found
That’s the power that brings T-Rump down
Poor Zelensky, T-Rump’s game
Pompeo, Pence, Barr; they all share the blame
It’s wrong, it’s corrupt, Lev knows it’s showtime
Comin’ clean just saved his life
We all want a trial that’s fair
But Mitch doesn’t care
So he can only spew
Every word so untrue
Then with a little help from Kiev
You feel the power of Lev
You feel the power of Lev
Can you feel it?
Hmm-Hmm
Poor Zelensky, T-Rump’s game
Pompeo, Pence, Barr; they all share the blame
Which big pig will be the first to squeal?
And Bolton, what will he reveal?
You feel the power, just feel the power of Lev
That’s the power, that’s the power of Lev
You feel the power of Lev
You feel the power of Lev
Feel the power of Lev
………………………………
You can hear the musical version of today’s post and previous T-Rump Digs at my podcast site at Podbean. Two new T-Rump tracks every Saturday. Enjoy!
The Mikepompeo peeked over the endless rows of corn, in the heart of Kansas-of-Dorothy. At last. He’d maintained a low profile and managed to get out of the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir, putting plenty of swamp miles behind him.
He cursed his bad luck. The Rickwilson was right, everything the T-Rump touches dies. The Mikepompeo may well be dino enemy number one. Why hadn’t he stayed with the Langleyops dinos? Life was so much easier then. There it was his job to do shady dealings under the cover of night. Now he was exposed, out here in the daylight. He couldn’t cope. And the T-Rump brought out the worst in him. In everybody. Like a plague of angry, infested locusts that only knew one thing. How to lie. Lying was good. Lying saved your bacon. Lying kept you in the T-Rump’s good graces. Anything to continue the cover-up. The cover-up was all that mattered. He paused. How many cover-ups were they involved in? Too many. He’d cover up all right. Cover himself up with these husks and stalks of corn so no one would ever find him again. Ah, blessed quiet.
“Found you!”
Huh? Who was that? He opened his eyes and looked into the eyes of …
“The Mincepencenow? What are you doing here?”
“The same thing as you. Hiding.”
“Well, You can go find your own spot. This is my corn hole, dammit. Wait a minute, you’re alone. Did you run away from …”
“Mother?” The Mincepencenow hung his head. “Well, yes. At least for a little while.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, with this whole kerfuffle over the Iranosaurus thing, who knew what and when, the justification for killing the Soleimani …”
“Stop it, you’re driving me mad having to relive it again and again. Look around, I’m trying to get away from it.”
“Me too, but here’s the crazy thing, as to why I’m here. You see, there’s this song that I can’t get out of my head. Mother used to sing it to me … when I was younger.”
“You mean last week.”
“Okay, you got me. And well, it’s strange but the words have changed in my head to something new and it’s driving me batty. Like some stupid strawberry alarm clock.”
“You are nuts. What the hell is a strawberry alarm clock?
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. But the song, it goes, it goes …”
“You really don’t have to do this, Mike …”
“Oh, but I do. You know what they say. Misery is being away from mother. Move on over. Ahem.”
The corn stalks wavered, whisked and bent in the breeze as the Mencepencenow let loose the voices in his head.
Poor sense, negligence, government blind
Briefings, messaging they can’t define
Embassies, number please, make up your mind
Intent and imminence, the color of crime
Who dares T-Rump to choose?
Little to win, but your job to lose
Intent and imminence, send in the clowns
Next day, next week, next time T-Rump’s down
Look at yourself, crook on the shelf, Pompeo
Look at yourself, crook on the shelf, Pompeo
Completely contradictory, they all knew
Benghazi, Soleimani, embarrassment due
Past event or Prince lament, wrong point of view
Movements and all proof sent, nothin’ was new
Who dares T-Rump to choose?
You have to sin, with your soul to lose
Poor sense, negligence, government blind
Briefings, messaging they can’t define
Embassies, number please, make up your mind
Intent and imminence, the color of crime
Who dares T-Rump to choose?
Once you’re in, you can only lose
Intent, imminence
Intent, imminence
I-oh-w-a-a-a, I-oh-w-a-a-a
I-oh-w-a-a-a, I-oh-w-a-a-a
I-oh-w-a-a-a, I-oh-w-a-a-a
………………………………
You can hear the musical version of today’s post and previous T-Rump Digs at my podcast site at Podbean. Two new T-Rump tracks every Saturday. Enjoy!
The crotchety old dino, the Moscowmitch, a.k.a. the Kentucky Gobbler, waggled a claw at the scrum of Mediacircustops.
“Haggle, haggle, haggle. There will be no haggling. No haggling, do you hear me? I will simply not allow it. Haggle, haggle, haggle. It’s a bad, bad word for negotiating and you all know how I hate to negotiate. Do you think I’m here to make a deal with the Nancypelosi? Of course not! Do you think I’m crazy? Don’t answer that. So, no haggle, haggle, haggle. I’m sick of it. Haggle, haggle, haggle. Somebody please hit me. Don’t make me say that word again.”
The Mediacircustops snickered. The Kentucky Gobbler was a natural. But their chuckles turned serious as the Grandoldparty mouthpiece, the Dougcollins appeared behind him.
“Excuse me, Moscowmitch, I just have to let any and all Mediacircustops in on my latest walnut brain flash — that the Donkeykongrus demanding to know why the Tyrumposaurus had the Soleimani done away with can only mean — ipso facto — that they love terrorist dinos. Huh? Am I right or am I right? C’mon, work with me on this. Can you see it? I mean, isn’t it obvious? When they say the Soleimani was a bad dino, well, that’s just Bigfatty-Piglatin dino-speak for, ‘he’s better than a Goldstar family dino.’ I’m not way out on a limb with this, am I?”
“Okay, Doug,” said the Moscowmitch. “I’m not going to say you’re out of your tree, but this is my limb.” He moved back in front of his Grandoldparty colleague, who nodded nervously to the Mediacircustops.
“I’ll be leaving now — but stay tuned for my next outrageous claim.”
“Now then,” continued the Moscowmitch. “We have the dinos, all the dinos we need to begin the impeachment trial in the Sin Hut. We don’t need the Donkeykongrus. It’s as clear as my long, impeccable career. Whatever they say, my response will be that we are never going to do that. Haggle, haggle, haggle.”
It slipped out like an embarrassing long burp. He covered his mouth with his hand. His eyes widened as he saw an approaching dino.
“Chuckschumer? What are you doing here?”
“I bring a message from the dinos, for the dinos … all across the great Milkanhoney Preservation.”
“Oh, no. Not another song. The songs — the songs … say it ain’t so.”
“Oh, but it is. Hit it, boys.”
And a trio of sharp-tailed dinos behind the Chuckschumer laid down a nifty backbeat riff of 38 special beats.
You see it all around you
The T-Rump gone mad
And usually you’d wait but then too
He’s Putin’s comrade
And I find we have two articles left
There’s more to come, so help me
Just hold on, Nancy
And don’t let go
If you sing them nightly
You’re gonna keep control
You’re the lady we believe in
You leave Moscow Mitch seethin’
He’s so damn sleazy
And so far outta touch
He’s there to deter
To obstruct so much
And I find we have two articles left
There’s more to come, so help me
Just hold on, Nancy
And don’t let go
If you sing them nightly
You’re gonna keep control
You’re the lady we believe in
Only you can keep the truth breathin’
Don’t let it slip away
Fundamental rule
Don’t let their lies get in the way
Yeah, yeah, yeah
You see it all around you
The T-Rump gone mad
And usually you’d wait but then too
It’s really that bad
Just hold on, Nancy
And don’t let go
If you sing them nightly
You’re gonna keep control
You’re the lady we believe in
To stop Moscow Mitch from thievin’
So hold on, Nancy
And don’t let go
If you sing them nightly
You’re gonna keep
You’re gonna keep control
So hold on, Nancy
And don’t let go
If you sing them nightly
You’re gonna keep control
Hold on, Nancy
And don’t let go
If you sing them nightly
You’re gonna keep control
………………………………
You can hear the musical version of today’s post and previous T-Rump Digs at my podcast site at Podbean. Two new T-Rump tracks every Saturday. Enjoy!
Oval Dwelling dino staffers scampered in all directions — away from the cantankerous commander in chief, the Tyrumposaurus. He was a dino not to be stifled or trifled with as he paced the large cave in front of his second in command. No, not THAT second in command, the Mincepencenow, but the senior Kentucky Gobbler, the Moscowmitch. Think less yes-dino, more you-gotta-be-kidding-me.
“When are you going to start the damn impeachment trial?” asked the T-Rump.
“I told you. We have to wait for the Nancypelosi to give us the two articles of impeachment.”
“Only two? Hell, we can beat that.”
The Moscowmitch looked at him as one might a dino preparing to jump off a cliff boasting they will fly like a Pterodactyl.
“I’m sorry, T-Rump, I truly am, but we can’t allow the Donkeykongrus to have witnesses and evidence. We won’t stand a chance.”
“I’ll tell you who doesn’t stand a chance. That damn Whistleblower dino. That’s who. Expose him. I want a name. Make him an example for all Whistleblower dinos. Make them extinct. Extinct, dammit!”
“I – I hate it when you talk this way. It makes me question my own mortality.”
“Oh, don’t go getting religious on me.”
The Moscowmitch could only shake his head at the empty walnut before him. The T-Rump glared at him.
“What? What is it?”
“Why, nothing. Nothing at all.”
“Oh, it’s something alright. It’s the Iranosaurus thing, isn’t it?”
Three days before, on the T-Rump’s orders, the battle-hardened Iranosaurus guru, the Soleimani, had been killed in the Middle Eastlands.
The T-Rump huffed and puffed.
“It was the right thing to do. He was a b-a-a-a-d dino. The Obamarus had his chance and blew it. Not me. I took care of business. It was the perfect opportunity to make this impeachment trial. Go. Away.”
The Moscowmitch cringed and cast a wild glance around them.
“Forgive me, T-Rump, but are you insane? If any dino hears you say that …”
“What’s going to happen? Huh? What’s going to happen?”
The Moscowmitch could only go mum and stare at the ground in disbelief. The T-Rump smirked.
“That’s what I thought. And you know me. Time to double down.”
“Double down?”
“You’re going to squat right there and listen to my song about it.”
“You made a song about it?”
“Is there an echo in here? My vanity demanded it.”
“But, you can’t sing. I mean, I’m trying to forget the last time I … I mean, if you want me to listen to you, I guess I’ll have to … I mean, I will.” A deep sigh. “I will.”
“Well, don’t look so beat up about it. Oh, and hold onto your heart, Moscowmitch. I’m not taking any prisoners.”
The Moscowmitch grimaced, the ground shook and the T-Rump sang. In no particular order.
I took down Soleimani
Cut him off at the knees
Yeah, I took down the devil
Cuz my religion agrees
Oh, they’re callin’ me crazy
This damn impeachment won’t die
Now I’m losin’ my head again
I’m losin’ my head
Oh, I’m losin’ my head again
I’m just waggin’ the dog alone
Yes, I’m waggin’ the dog at home
I’m just waggin’ the dog alone
I’m just waggin’ the dog at home
Oh, I’m nobody’s angel
I’m no Middle East star
But I’ll send you to heaven
Because I have Williambarr
Oh, I’m losin’ my head again
I’m losin’ my head
Oh, I’m losin’ my head again
I’m just waggin’ the dog alone
Waggin’ the dog at home
I’m just waggin’ the dog alone
Oh, just waggin’ the dog at home
I’ll be the Tower of Babel,
Cuz I do talk a lot
If I don’t like what you’re doin’
I’ll make it get hot — give it everything I got
Waggin’ the dog alone
Waggin’ the dog at home
Waggin’ the dog alone
I’m just waggin’ the dog at home
Waggin’ the dog alone
Waggin’ the dog at home
I’m just waggin’ the dog alone
I’m just waggin’ the dog … waggin’ the dog … waggin’ the dog
O-o-o-o-h, I’m just waggin’ the dog at home
Ow!
………………………………
You can hear the musical version of today’s post and previous T-Rump Digs at my podcast site at Podbean. Two new T-Rump tracks every Saturday. Enjoy!
The T-Rump Dig Podcast … Days 1075 & 1079
This week’s T-Rump twofer features: Day 1075 — “The Waiting” … It’s a game the Moscow Mitch loves to play! … and Day 1079 — “I Think Alone” … The Rudygiuliani sidles up to the swamp and lets fly. Enjoy!
A wag of the tail to Tom Petty and George Thorogood.
David Belisle