“Trump experiencing ‘mild symptoms’ after testing positive for Covid-19” —NBC News
The President has COVID and it’s very, very sad;
The very best of wishes are the only ones he’s had;
And nobody is saying (not the brutalest of bruisers)
That getting sick’s for sissies or that dying is for losers.
The President has COVID, as I think I’ve said before;
If Schadenfreude comes my way, I’m showing her the door.
Here’s hoping that he rallies (and the rallies hope it too),
And COVID’s gone by Christmas, Mr. President, with you.
A British wildlife sanctuary has been forced to separate five parrots who wouldn’t stop swearing at visitors.
“Fuck off, you prick!” the parrot screeched,
And launched a vicious sally,
His mates repeating all his oaths:
“Fat twat! You’ve gone doolally!”
Someone should take these foul-mouthed birds
To Donald Trump’s next rally.
After I lose this year’s election,
I’ll make demands and they’ll enforce them.
My treason needs their armed protection.
Do I denounce them? I endorse them!
“Subway bread is not bread, Irish court rules Judge finds that sugar content of US chain’s sandwiches exceeds stipulated limit and they should thus be classified as confectionery” —The Guardian
Apprised of a shortage of bread,
The Queen, without losing her head,
Responded: “Gâteau
Is a no-no, I know;
I suggest they eat Subway instead.”
“Police seize 345,000 used condoms that were cleaned and sold as new.” —Reuters
Recyling was always my choosing—
Why others would balk was confusing. But I read of some tactics To clean prophylactics
And for once I’m opposed to reusing.
Of course he’ll accept the election results,
If he wins all the votes like that Belarus guy.
He loves autocrats, personality cults,
And laws that say which voters need not apply.
“Daniel Bain loves exploring Barcelona, but one sight has left a lasting impression—a sturdy oak that pops up in the middle of a staircase. ‘I like to think that this tree sat down on these stairs to create a piece of shade for the future and stayed,’ he says.” —The Guardian
A tree sat down upon a stair:
A sturdy oak. The place was bare,
But firm and flat; the sort that suits
A plant prepared to rest its roots.
From six steps up, this oak surveyed
The future, with its need for shade,
Felt touched, and settled, even though
It could not laterally grow.
In times of baseness and disease,
Let’s celebrate this best of trees,
Extending deftly, deep and high,
From Barcelona to the sky:
A refuge when the mind despairs;
An earthly heaven-tree of stairs.
After months of encouraging people to eat out, use public transport, go to the gym, return to offices, and send their children to school (or face a fine), UK Health Secretary Matt Hancock said that any future lockdown would be the fault of the public.
You, who downed a pint or five
to keep your favourite pub alive,
You, who rushed to KFC
to buy a bucket made for three
with coleslaw, like we told you to…
This is on you.
You, who packed the trains to flock
to some superfluous office block
and keep the city fatcats fed,
You, who joined a gym to shed
the blubber, like we told you to…
This is on you.
You, who sent your kids to schools—
a promised land for germs, you fools—
and all to dodge our little fines!
And you, who went and stood in lines
for testing, like we told you to…
This is on you.
“I want you to use my words against me. If there’s a Republican president in 2016 and a vacancy occurs in the last year of the first term, you can say Lindsey Graham said let’s let the next president, whoever it might be, make that nomination.” (Senator Lindsey Graham (R-SC), February 2016) —The Hill
“When elections are looming, to cram
The judiciary hurts Uncle Sam;
Should a POTUS incline
To re-stock the top Nine,
I’d condemn him at once as a sham;
“And I want you,” said Senator Graham,
“To deploy my own words like a ram
If I ever confirm
A last-year-of-first-term
Supreme Court nominee.” So I am.
