Trevor Stone Irvin
Number of posts: 51
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By Trevor Stone Irvin:
The word “authentic” is being tossed around a lot these days … another empty-calorie, tasteless ingredient in today’s word salad. The kale of the word world.
The other day, a leaking pustule of a man, Anthony Scaramucci, took over the job of White House Communications Director from the former dripping abscess, Sean Spicer. During one of his attempts at deceiving the press and the public, Scaramucci, started rambling on about just how great Sarah Huckabee was, saying,
people need to know
Breaking Newz: A quickly unfolding scandal has revealed that Hillary Clinton colluded with millions of democrats nationwide to vote against Donald Trump during the 2016 elections.
In a statement today, Satan’s BedBug, Kellyanne Conway, said “We hope it is clear to America now how unfairly Donald Trump was treated. When Donald Trump ran for president, Hillary purposely tried to win. We see this as proof she colluded with American Democrats…
Well, tie me to an ant hill and slap jelly in ma ears … Vladimir Putin, former KGB chief, thug and Dictator in Chief of Russia has offered to vouch for Donald’s Trumps innocence and honesty during a high stakes classified information swap-meet in the oval office. Vlad says he can prove that Donald is telling the truth.
Well! Jeesh, that is a relief! Show of hands, who, republican or democrat, with even a smidge of common sense feels more secure and that Donald is trustworthy? …
just the facts
This story is moving so quickly I’m not sure I can keep up with it. By the time you read this we could be in a war with Korea and Putin will be dancing in the West Wing. The American press has been shamed for reporting reality and disseminating verifiable information. I called KellyAnn ConJob to ask her about this and the she-beast of propaganda, hissed … “It’s not the press’s job to report reality, their job is to report what I say reality is.”
It starts by driving 500 miles to seven different tree farms, farmers markets and retail establishments to argue with seven fingered cretins about how “there is no way in hell I’m going to pay you 100 bucks for a dead, eight-foot tree.” At some point, finding yourself in state other than the one in which you started, and having been told by the seventh tree ape to “shove it” in several languages and hand gestures, you decide to cut your losses (no pun intended) …
dr. ben carson did what?
Ok, first a quick update: I want to just say I’m very disappointed that it looks as though I did not win either the Electoral College or the popular vote.
My campaign manager Mr. Mittens is digging through the early returns (and his bag of cat nip) in order to find out just where my campaign went south. So, unless the Supreme Court steps in I may not become president this time around. I am also deeply troubled to inform my supporters that my own mother didn’t vote for me…
I am the first write-in presidential candidate who will win in a landslide. So heads up — Hillary is not the only historic choice here.
My run for the highest office in the land has gone exceedingly well. I am the first candidate to run an issue-free, wall-free, policy-free, promise-you-anything-to-get-in-office, campaign. (I know, I know, the Donald is neck-and-neck with me on this, but I’m not worried that he’ll grab the presidency – other stuff, well, you may want to be careful, just sayin’.)
Phyllis Schlafly has finally made millions of people very happy … she died. It was a simple, but gratifying act. Many hoped it would have happened much sooner, but as they say, better late than never. It occurs to me that there are a few others it would be nice to see follow suit. Are you listening Cheney?
Schlafly, a working women who hated women who worked, was an expert on self-loathing. She so hated her kind that she didn’t want to stop at shredding equal rights and equal pay for women; she hoped one day to become a Jewish Nazi and send herself to a death camp where she could have all her rights and humanity exterminated.
not so great
Today, in his third act as President, (the first two are too embarrassing to mention) Donald Trump ended the treaty with the SunGod. He felt that others were not contributing their fair share of sacrifices to the SunGod. At today’s press conference, which was held in the complete dark due to the lack of a sun, Donald stated “America is for chumps if we are going to pay too much for sunlight! I’m not going to sacrifice one more smoking hot virgin that I could use in the Miss America pageant to some SunGod who isn’t an American…
Several shootings lately. Today it’s in Virginia at a Richmond Greyhound Bus Terminal.
Fortunately, no need to panic. As quick as you can scream “Active shooter, shelter in place!” the news stations pounced, emphatically stating “this is not terrorism!”
Whew, for a minute I thought this was something serious.
The local news and CBS categorically stated “There is no link to terrorism that we know of….
gun totin' stoopid
Standoff continues. Patridiots not budging, holding firm on demands of more clean underwear and Febreze. Feds yet to show up or give a damn.
No shots were fired again today to the deep disappointment of the Yee-hadists within the Patridiot’s compound. “We are at serious risk of not being taken seriously” one Patridiot exclaimed. “Christ, they may think we’re some sort of hippie, peace-nik group if there ain’t a little blood shed soon” another one complained.
“Now I know how Davy Crockett must have felt before any of the Mexicans showed up at the Alamo.” claimed Burfurd T. Mudflap.
gun totin' stoopid
KRAZYVILLE, Ore. Community leaders were sent in today to help the Yee-hawdists who have taken over bird watchin’ from the commie, big-gubment liberals at a Federal reserve in Oregon.
The local sheriff David Ward stated “we had to send someone in with a scissors to help because the I.Q.s are so low they would have died trying unsuccessfully to open the snacks we sent in.” A reporter for the Oregon Sentinel interviewed one of the Tali-banjo who said they couldn’t seem to figure out how to open the Zip-Lock bags containing the S’mores…
Today I’m announcing my candidacy for president of the United States. It’s fitting that I begin my candidacy in the historic setting of my upstairs studio. I am honored to be surrounded by so many supporters and well-wishers, and by that I mean my two cats. (My wife has yet to sign on to my campaign but give her time).
I’m working on a campaign slogan—it’s a toss-up between…
sensible gun laws now
Congress and the Senate today vowed to do everything in their power to do absolutely nothing about the mass shootings today. Which shooting you ask? I don’t know, pick one, there are far too many to keep track of.
The Speaker of the house, Paul Ryan, in an interview today said “We don’t want to rush to judgment and take away the rights from any red-blooded, all-American, shit-for-brains that simply wants a big-ass gun. His right to stupid supersedes your right to life, liberty and the pursuit of breathing…
dressed for success
Today something happened that rocked my world. I know what you’re thinking, but no, it wasn’t due to jamming knitting needles in my ears to prevent listening to the sea of stupid rolling from the mouth of Donald Trump. It wasn’t due to the reports of Ben Carson digging his way into another intellectual manure pile by saying all you have to do to stop a mass shooter is to for everyone to agree to rush the shooter all at once…
First, yeah this is long, but just maybe, it’s time for long, cuz it’s been a long time comin’.
I suppose it all started with Michael Jackson and his desire for a “white” nose, which didn’t turn out so well. Why a really handsome, very talented guy would willingly fuck up his face is truly beyond me. Michael was said to have lightened his skin, while Rachel Dolezal is said to have darkened hers.
Okay, what’s in the headlines today? Well, let’s see.
Jumpin’ Jehosaphats: There is the idiot woman who was asked to leave a McDonalds because she claimed that the kangaroo, (yes, a fuckin’ kangaroo) she had with her, wrapped in a blanket and riding in an infant car seat, was her “service animal.” Like the rest of you I assumed it must be a “Seeing Eye Kangaroo” but that would be incorrect. She explained to the officer that the kangaroo helps her cope with “emotional distress” and showed him a doctor’s note stating she needed a kangaroo…
begins with halloween
It’s that time of year again. Ya’ll know what I’m talking about … the holidays. Some see it as the song claims “It’s the most wonderful time of the year” … But others among us are just left wondering. First it’s the sugary shock of Halloween. Then it’s surviving the Thanksgiving glutton-fest. Followed by a tsunami of high-octane shopping you can’t afford, partying, last minute gift buying, a morning of exchanging gifts you don’t need, a mad rush to return the gifts you don’t want, more shopping and finally a drunken evening, ending with new year’s resolutions and false resolve to quit your shameful and glutinous behavior as soon as the thunder in your head subsides…
Have you noticed lately that menus aren’t just menus anymore? They are adjective-laden exercises in literary carnage. Pretentious descriptions of food so florid I’m not sure what I’m ordering. It seems the goal of a restaurant, aside from separating me from the contents of my wallet, is to make me feel good about what I’m eating, or self-conscious, I’m not quite sure which. Thus the word sustainable creeps into every menu I read. Sustainable, as in sustainable agriculture or sustainable fish … what I really want is whatever is being served to “sustain me,” not the other way around.
I always knew politics smelled funny but I never know how much until now. Seems a couple of braniacs led by Brown University political scientist Rose McDermott have conducted a study showing that we can sniff out like minded people just from their body odor. So it ain’t only dogs that can find their friends with their noses, you can too. I won’t get into the ugly details, but essentially people from one political persuasion smelled body parts and bodily fluids of people from other political persuasions to determine if they were simpatico.
I know what you’re thinking, that the Bacon Bowl is an SEC College Bowl Game that takes place on a hog farm in Arkansas … Nope, it’s the newest advance in American gastronomy.
The Bacon Bowl is a small, plastoid, hat shaped device that you wrap a wad of bacon around. Then you zap the crap out of it in the microwave and remove the remaining, crispy, bowl-shaped bowl-o-bacon. You then fill this “bowl” with a plethora of heart stopping ingredients, such as cheese drenched macaroni and sausage balls, swimmin’ in butter, topped with a fried egg…
I think there should be minimum requirements to being a man. Don’t worry; men are a rather small minded-bunch so the requirements wouldn’t be stringent. But there should be bare minimums. And f you can’t meet the minimum requirements, you’ll be asked to move to Canada or Los Angeles.
The case for bare minimums was recently made when I saw an early-thirties male-like person at Home Depot who asked the woman at the paint counter. “How do you open a can of paint?”
life in the key of stupid
A 16-year-old is avoiding all jail time for killing four people and injuring nine in a drunk-driving accident after his lawyer successfully argued the teen suffers from “affluenza.” Affluenza, you say? You aren’t familiar with that disease? Well, you should be. It is a deadly affliction spreading rapidly into the wealthy conclaves of gated communities … and sadly it strikes only the wealthy.
Just plain ignorant: House Speaker John Boehner issued a second scathing rebuke of fellow republican Rep. Steve King after the Iowa Republican stood by his idiotic comments characterizing most young undocumented immigrants as “drug mules.” Boehner blowtificated “I want to be clear, (after years of making incredibly stupid comments himself) there’s no place in this debate for hateful or ignorant comments from elected officials.
Bringing Us Closer
Have you engaged in the newest of social phenomenons, “endorsing?”
The job networking site “LinkedUp” or “HookedIn,” or whatever-the-hell it’s called, allows you to tell the world that someone you know, think you know, or wish you knew, possesses abilities that other people, who you don’t know, should know about. “LumpedIn” or “WhoseOutThere” is a social network that is supposed to connect you to other people in hopes of obtaining work. Well, that ship sailed, and it was decided we would all be better off just “endorsing “ each other instead. It’s sort of a really lame, cyber pat on the back.
Every Awesome Aspect
Some holiday traditions are great, you know, like a dry pine tree strung with a mile and a half of old, fraying electrical wire, a diabetic heaven of sugar cookies and of course a full month of alcohol abuse … who doesn’t love that? But there are some traditions that we could do without. And holiday letters may be one of them.
You’ve all gotten them; and some of you (you know who you are) have sent them. I’m referring to those six page, once a year, holiday letters from…
It’s been a bad year.
First there was the Mayan End of the World thing that didn’t really pan out as expected. I was so sure I wouldn’t be around writing this today. So in anticipation of the end I had emptied our bank account and 401K. I maxed out the credit card, sold the wife’s jewelry and bought all kinds of shit I couldn’t afford. Now I find out I won’t be going anywhere except to Title Max to hock my car and that I have one really pissed off wife. I now own a $10,000 barbeque grill, a turbo charged riding lawnmower equipped with air-conditioning…
When Someone Gets It Right
Have you ever have one of those nights where inexplicably everything turns out perfectly? No? Well, I’m feeling ya, but here’s how to solve it.
My friend Vic called and said “Pick you two up at six; I’m taking you out for dinner.” He got no argument from me. A free meal is a free meal, and I’m a cheap bastard. It began with a ride downtown to the empty streets of old Atlanta, past the court house, and down to Mitchell Street. The strips of cooling asphalt and cement sidewalks, were long emptied, because the impotent powers that be in Atlanta still haven’t figured out how to create a Manhattan-like night life in some of the most important 50 square blocks of Georgia.
Dick Cheney, former vice president, Torturer-in-Chief and current CEO of Evil Inc. was given a heart transplant today. The medical professionals involved were confused by the need for this, and one was quoted as saying, “he’s lived for 71 years without a heart, why does he need one now?”
There were some complications during surgery, as the donor heart was heard kicking and screaming, “No, please no, god no, I don’t want to go in there!” The donor heart was finally tazered into submission, wrapped in barbed wire, and thrown into the dark, cold cavity where Cheney’s heart would have been, had he been born with one.
A Cure for Dumbass?
Huzzah, Huzzah, Huzzah! A cure for dumbshit is on the horizon! Double your IQ, double your fun. Right now, it’s all a little theoretical, but the good news is it has absolutely nothing to do with injecting stem cells or homeschooling.
Turns out, the key to increased intelligence is achieved through longer neural pathways. Stretch those little suckers out, and you won’t have to live on planet dumbass anymore. The upside of a doubled IQ will be substantial. The physics homework you were helping your kid with will finally make sense … to you.
New Year's Fireworks
Dear friggin’ everyone,
Yes, I heard all the commotion last night at midnight. The celebration, the fireworks, and of course all the pistols shots, joyously fired off into the crisp night air, their bullets rhythmically thunk, thunk, thunking into my roof. All to welcome in a new year. (And if you think I’m joking I will gladly show you the AK 47 slug embedded into my back deck.)
Nothing Certain But Taxes
Scientists may be close to figgerin’ out a way we can all live forever or at least for a thousand years. They think there is something called a “telomere” that if prevented from shortening, our bodies can be kept from deteriorating. An exciting notion, until you start thinking it through.
First, the obvious: I deserve to be around for a thousand years, because I’m a pretty fabulous guy — but I don’t think my neighbor does. I’ve been tolerating his crap for over 20 years, and the thought of watching him put up those stupid inflatable Christmas decorations for another thousand Christmases is too much to ask.
It seems the man can’t help himself. Perry has reached the topmost bar regarding presidential debate flubs with his now classic “oops” moment not being able to remember which departments he wants eliminated. Perry and Paul seem to be competing on which of their pretend candidacies can eliminate more federal departments. Not that any of this matters, because fortunately neither one will get the chance to do so.
In his latest WTF moment, in a vain attempt to recall the names of the Supreme Court justices, Ricky somehow comes up with “Montemayor?”
In Medical News – Man speaks out of ass:
Though long suspected, Hank Williams Jr. (aka Bocephus) has proved he is not only unusually slow-witted but can actually talk out of his hindquarters. Hank proudly disseminated his very own personal brand of stupid via Fox News and the internet and got himself fired. Millions were elated when they realized they never have to hear “Are ya ready fer some futtbal?” again.
In a related story ESPN executives are in a dizzying state of confusion.“Normally we don’t do anything in good taste” one network executive was quoted as saying, “Firing a dumbsh*t is not something we are used to doing; normally we hire them.” The brouhaha has continued with some media types claiming that Junior’s freedom of speech had been violated.
I’ve just had it with all these sissy liberals and their annoying fact based politics. I want to believe what I want to believe. I like my nation Fact-Free.
If I want to believe that sneaky bitch Hillary Clinton shot and murdered White House Council, Vincent Foster … well, it’s my constitutional right as an American to embrace sheer stupidity with both arms, by damn.
If I want to believe that Obama is muslim and a burqa-lovin,’ Keyan-born, American hater … then by god he is!
If I want to believe that Catholic priests fantasize over women and god and not 10-year-old boys, who’s to stop me?
If I want to listen to Junk News, believe in Junk Science, and eat Junk Food, thinking it will illuminate, educate and nourish me … then that’s what I’ll do.
I’m not gonna make any New Year’s resolutions; I really don’t need any. I’m an unattractive, grumpy, difficult person, and it’s taken decades of hard work to become this near-perfect pain in the ass. I’m not going to wreck it all now with some lame attempt at self-improvement. My plan is foolproof; self-delusion is the key to my happiness and my issues are most likely going to be your problem. I need no end of year resolutions; I’m good.
But the rest of you should take this New Year’s resolution stuff very seriously. Let’s be honest, y’all could really use a bit of improvement, couldn’t you? Don’t bother with the usual crap like, “I’m going to lose thirty pounds” or “I will try to become a better person,” or, God forbid, “I’m going to read that book by Faulkner this year.” It ain’t gonna happen. Stick to simple …
Dear Holiday Occupant:
It’s been a tough year, but I am sending you a 25lb sack of “Happiness” for Christmas anyway… use it sparingly, I couldn’t afford the 50Lb sack this year and you’ll have to make it last. I know the label says “Manure” but to a dung beetle that is 25lbs of pure happy.
I would have sent you a small package of “Good Will Towards Man” as well, but it is in very short supply this year. There is a rumor that Dick Cheney and Halliburton sold most of it on the black market at a phenomenal profit and BP used the rest to plug up the blown well in the Gulf.
It turns out, according to the latest in science news, Neanderthals and “other archaic hominids” actually mated with human’s way back when. At first I thought they were referring to my neighbors, because if the phrase “other archaic hominids” describes anyone, it’s my neighbors, or possibly my sons, take your pick.
But as usual, I got things turned around; they are referring to the long extinct species of mankind that the “cretin-ists” and the Tea Party believe never existed. But this is all new to me as well, as they definitely skipped over this inter-species love thang in my high school social studies courses.
I’ll tell you what’s wrong with porn; it no longer takes any skill or daring whatsoever to obtain it. It used to require a bit of ingenuity, a little risk and a little touch of audaciousness if you wanted to look at something naked.
Back when the earth was flat you had a couple of choices:
1) The easy way out; you looked at National Geographic or the Sears catalog, pretty lame no matter how you slice it.
2) Slightly better; you ogled the Snap-On tool calendars and Vargas pinups in Dad’s garage workshop or basement
Normal English: Main Entry: re·pu·di·ate Pronunciation: ri-ˈpyü-dē-ˌāt Function: transitive verb / Inflected Form(s): re·pu·di·at·ed; re·pu·di·at·ing Etymology: Latin from repudium rejection of a prospective spouse, divorce
1: to divorce or separate formally from (a woman)
2: to refuse to have anything to do with : disown
3 a: to refuse to accept; especially : to reject as unauthorized or as having no binding force
4: to refuse to acknowledge or pay <repudiate a debt
There is only one really good thing about being a man, and that is we don’t give a damn what we look like or that our IQs generally hover about the 30 mark (just high enough to invent and repeatedly pry open beer bottlecaps). For a few brief years in high school we look OK, but then we begin to let ourselves go and get increasingly larger until 20 years later we look like some form of ginormous walking burrito wrapped in a polo shirt and cargo pants. Unlike women, we simply don’t care what we look like. No matter what the mirror says, no matter how fat or old I get, I can still convince myself that I’m one happnin’ dude, and my lethargic 250 pounds is human catnip to the female of the species…
Jesse James, OK … first, just who the hell is this guy? And why on earth should I give a damn who or what he has had sex with? And Tiger, he seems like a decent enough guy, albeit with a “Clinton Problem with a side of Texting.” He plays a decent game of golf but why does anyone give a sh*t if he is getting laid or not?
People, you should only care about one person getting laid, and that would be you! Everybody else who is getting laid … none of your damn business!
And you lame-ass pundits out there. You call this news?
I’m not a religious kind of guy; god and I are not on speaking terms. Yet every now and then I feel there may be a grain of truth in the stray odd religious concept. Take the Ten Commandments, for example. A good idea, but lacking in execution. Everyone seems to pay them lip service, but nobody actually follows them. The commandments offer guidelines intent on making us better people but, admit it, you do covet your neighbor’s wife, you work on Sundays and you steal boatloads of office supplies from work. Yes, morally and spiritually, you are a train wreck. But maybe it’s not all your fault …
The Cave-Man Diet, it’s all the rage. It follows the evolutionary dietary laws of ancient man. And in the words of one of the advocates of Cave-Dieting, “I didn’t want to do some faddish diet that my sister would do.” I couldn’t agree more; this isn’t faddish; it is merely a life style that has been dead for ten thousand years or so and what goes around is certainly bound to come around again every few millennia.
Here quickly, is the gist of the Cave-Dude Diet:
Little dogs, tiny dogs no larger than a hamster, dogs weighing less than an ounce fully grown, microscopic canines bedecked with bows and dressed in Burberry or worse, those small, odd things with no fur whatsoever, whose protruding eyes weigh more than the creature itself , do not exist in nature. Not to put too fine a point on it, they aren’t supposed to. I’m pretty sure that the Westminster Kennel Club and Paris Hilton are responsible for these bizarro breeds, and I know for a fact that toy Pugs, Schnoodles, Chihuahuas and the humiliating Labradoodle are un-natural creations. Ancient man sensibly tamed the wild dog for his use by breeding dinosaurs with more benign animals, such as large raccoons and badgers, to create a breed of stable and domesticated, (although dumb) companions to keep him company throughout the cold, boring nights of the Paleozoic era. This resulted in large, […]
Have you heard the news? I’ve just been informed Bat Woman is totally gay, and is apparently a super-hot redhead! My first response? Whoa, totally Rad Duuude! What red-blooded American male (or flannel-clad girl) didn’t have a thing for Bat Woman, Cat Woman or that hot Emma Peele from The Avengers? Those shows are most likely responsible for creating the washing machine industry! And it wasn’t like the Superheroes’ sexuality was some sort of secret. I mean, c’mon, let’s be frank; it was pretty blatant, and now Bat Woman is out tearing up the “petit carpet.” How hot is that!? I have no problem with the “gay thing.” In fact, it’s about damn time. I realize now that the two guys living across the street getting hitched did not in fact ruin my marriage like the religious nutbags said it would. According to my wife, apparently I’m the entire problem […]
Tom Baxter recently pondered the disturbing lack of Web-iquette in this new age of instant and numbingly senseless mass communication. Apparently what mankind has been missing all these millennia is the ability to “Twitter” a complete stranger at a moment’s notice and inform them that “my cat is now struggling with a massive hairball” or “I hope you and all your stupid political ilk die from a horrible contagious body rash.” The only thing lacking in these exchanges is a bit of politeness and a few guidelines on “when to delete” one of the more offending idiots from your list of 9,523 Facebook friends. Tom has a very good point. Someone should put their foot down and insist on some rules. I, of course, want to help.
(Disclaimer: The following rules can be applied to blogs, Web sites, Facebook posts, MySpace, tweets, IMs, other forms of annoying, teenage mass media or even to some ass who has wandered accidently into your house uninvited. Furthermore, most of us won’t need these stupid rules; we’ll simply pick up the phone, call our “actual friend” and tell him to bring back our lawnmower before we are forced to kick his ass. And to all those idiots who claim to have 4,000 “Friends,” you aren’t fooling anyone; no one has 4,000 friends. If you are posting on Facebook it’s because most likely you’re a sad, lonely individual and don’t have any friends.)
Domestic Terrorism and the Sexual Revolution gone to Seed Once again a piece of information has come to my attention recently that was profoundly disturbing. According to the study in question it seems “older people are contracting higher rates of STD’s (sexually transmitted diseases) and AIDS at considerably higher rates than in the past.” The cause? Abuse by the older generation of one of America’s favorite indulgences, performance enhancing drugs. No, I’m not talking steroids… but Grandpa is doing a bit of bulking up. This time it is the dreaded EDD, Erectile Dysfunction Drugs. Now I don’t have any moral objection to older people having an alarming amount of sex, I simply don’t want to know about it. I want to stipulate for the record that I’m no prude, born in the 50’s, a child of the 60’s and 70’s; I took right to the Sex, Drugs and Rock ’n’ […]
A good friend of mine, Jack (last name withheld to protect the guilty) informed me he has recently bought a gas grill — so I’m writing him to straighten him out. Dear Jack(ass) The art of grilling, for better or worse, is a man’s identity. It’s more important than money, fame or even family. Sell the kids if necessary but hold on to the grill. I mean if you can’t grill a decent pork roast or ribs, what good are you? But over gas!!!??? Hell Damn No! Grilling — real grilling — is not done over gas. You COOK over gas, you GRILL over coals. There’s no compromise on this matter. Working as a male prostitute is more honorable than a man standing in front of an eight-hundred-dollar-chrome-gas-grill from Lowe’s! Gas grilling is uncompromisingly gay. (Please, no insult is intended toward gay men or women who grill over charcoal or […]