These Bullish Loins.

Six Savvy Ways To Make Kids Profitable:

I chanced upon the god of greed while on a stroll through downtown Manhattan. [Image source flickr.com]

I realize how jarringly unsettling this title is. Trust me, I’ve pondered many a minute, rehearsed it in my head, considered the options and concluded — I don’t care if you’re dismayed. I only say this because I love you and would be slighted gravely by anyone who’d consider lying to you.

I’ve been thinking..you know, us satirists have it made. We never can run out of material! A chance glance at the news and voila! It turns out, Trump and the genuflecting GOP lining up to kiss his Retrogression Championship rings aren’t bad hombres after all. They make my job too easy. Perhaps I should consider easing off on them as a distinguished resistance assassin.

My worry is, if my efforts and those of countless others succeed, what is to become of my newly found career? Where will I get content?? Is my six figure gig at The Haven- with the black AMEX expense card, two assistants and company S-Class Benz in jeopardy? The board will surely start off by firing the assistant in charge of my blah-blah-cinno Lattes. It’ll be downhill from there on. No S-Class, just a fully loaded F-Type Jaguar…(without lane departure warning or self parking😒😒😒..No valet is going to want to touch it). I don’t want to even continue thinking along that pauper fucklife tangent.

I was pitched an idea two days ago by a secret admirer of my work to write them a song/ short story about a unicorn who shits cookie dough. They’re to make it into an animated piece for a beloved child’s birthday. I thought about it for a second and though feces (edible or otherwise) greatly gross me the fuck out, I think I’ll give it a shot. If you have any ideas, please don’t be shy to speak your mind. I’ve already come up with the title — ‘The Dangerous Adventures of Poopie Dough’..you can do the rest of the story. I might like it and cut you in on the lucrative contract this has fetched. I won’t spill the beans, but let’s just say you’ll be deeply, emotionally compensated . So it doesn’t pay…just so we’re clear.

Well, I haven’t done my homework and fear I gave my word too soon that I’d do it. I just can’t picture a humorous scenario of anyone feasting on shit. For now, I’ll just stick to what I know best — milking the humanity hating giving tree that is the Conservative Party.

It’s been brought to my attention through the great electronic grape vine of push notifications and emails, that a South Carolinian couple who really, really, really, really hate Hillary Clinton, coached their teen daughter to spin a sticky web for a very willing perverted fly by the name of Anthony Weiner. The wife part of this strange couple would hunt down BLM tweets and strike them down with some very MAGA anvil-brain remarks. The husband went along with egging the teen on to exchange lewd correspondence with the world famous Creepn’ Tony. The glaring punchline of this uncomfortable conundrum is; The girl lied about her age and legally speaking, she was a consenting adult at the time as opposed to her underage status in the suit. This set off a flurry of activities that saw Mr Weiner lose his seat as a US Congressman, get separated from his wife and have his status permanently updated to “Always Creepn’ in your phone”. The masquerading snowball doesn’t stop there..no siree. This development actually gave former FBI Director Comey enough justification to yet again bring up the o so perennial email fiasco. I’m thinking to myself, there were a lot of things that might have contributed to Hillary’s loss, but this surely is a prime contender.

Hence, I riddle myself this: If I had kids, how could I use them to elevate myself financially, socially, psychologically, coal headed-ically etc? To honor the kind of people behind this little beauty, I’ve THUNK up some possibilities:

I could quit my job and siphon my kids’ plasma in a giant metal bucket to sell to pharmaceutical R & D labs.

Volunteer my first born for a test flight — for a Chinese space travel company that’s secretly trying to beat Elon Musk at everything he’s been trying to do.

Offer my second born as a prop in this new gym that teaches you how to knock random children senseless off their bikes as they’re riding around your neighborhood being innocent and jolly.

Indoctrinate them into the Republican cult by playing a loop of CSPAN tapes of Ted Cruz’s Green Eggs and Ham in place of bedtime stories.

Volunteer my 3rd born to help NYPD neutralize any bomb if they’re not certain whether it’s the green or red wire..

Shrink them and feed them to toothless non human digesting amoeba. Retrieve them. Laugh. Repeat.

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