Hello. The following is translated from the French by Satan.
Dear CBS and Paramount, its parent company:
Hi! We are Marshal Philippe Petain and Pierre Laval, of Vichy France, the noted cowards, collaborators and capitulators of World War II, the spineless power-mad vile filth who sold their country out to the Nazis. It is an honor to make your acquaintance.
We wish to extend to you our thanks and best wishes inasmuch as you have now somewhat tempered, even if just a little bit, by comparison, our revolting role in history as cowards and traitors. This has helped to take the sting out of our extended time here, where we now dwell.
Thank you for snivelingly agreeing to pay Donald Trump $16 million in settlement of his inane, baseless, extortionist lawsuit, one that never would have gained traction — and in so doing, squandering 57 years of journalistic achievement and honor for the formerly great news program 60 Minutes — because your boss doesn’t want the president to block a planned sale over which she will make tens of millions of dollars. She bowed to this extortion from the glorious foul stinking malevolence currently occupying the White House and shamelessly jeopardizing democracy in your country. You have our sincere gratitude.
The lawsuit charged that 60 Minutes libeled Trump by committing journalism. It was un-winnable on its merits but winnable as a successful test of cowardice and greed.
We also ask you to extend our best wishes and congratulations to your country’s current president from our pal here, Mr. James Buchanan. Mr. Trump will know why. The reasons are similar. Actually, he’ll be here in due time, so we’ll tell him ourselves.
Thank you for your attention to this matter.
We’ll be watching you.
—
I am almost as depressed over this as I am about the grotesque bill that is about to become law, the big, ugly bill that steals from the poor and gives to the rich. I don’t want to dwell on the negative, so today’s Gene Pool Gene Poll will be upbeat.
Here are two short jokes.
A: A woman goes into a bar and orders an “entendre. Make it a double.” So the bartender gives it to her.
B: Did you hear about the constipated mathematician? He worked it out with a pencil.
Questions and Observations:
Alms for the poor wretches who run this thing:
See you tomorrow in the Invitational.
A Roman walks into a bar, holds up two fingers, and says, “Five beers, please.”
The day is young, but surprised you didn't mention the new limited (fortunately...) edition fragrances in the Demento line of crap, "Victory 45-47." Casting about for the appropriate slogan for the MAGA faithful, I tentatively came up with: "Now you can smell like shit too!" or perhaps, "Eau de Ewww."