“The Smithsonian museums and National Zoo are set to reopen within days… The Smithsonian Institution says… the animals at the National Zoo and its center in Front Royal, Virginia, were still cared for [during the government shutdown].” —NBC
Oh God, they’re coming back soon to traipse around and stare with stupid expectation that when we leave our lair
it’s just for them. How lovely to preen and lope and screech for one another only! But soon, gross human speech
will fill our paths and hallways again. Cameras will flash and popcorn scent, as always, float by while children dash
up to the fence and mimic our faces of ennui. Were we too optimistic, hoping they’d let us be?
Shutdown? Shut up. The Dems have, once again, Done what they like to do with coils of rope. The look’s not good for anyone’s campaign When Jeffrey Epstein is their greatest hope.
“The Penny Dies at 232: A long decline into irrelevance ended on Wednesday in Philadelphia.” —The New York Times
The penny drops. Its fall’s complete. It cost too much, the bankers bleat. You’ll have to junk your little stash; Though Hamilton might think this rash, Fiat and crypto have it beat.
The penny’s value was discreet: It could secure a little treat, Or, saved, add up to well-earned cash. The penny drops
Today, and in its brusque defeat I’m sensing something like a cheat; A humble item, lacking flash, Has gone, unthanked, like common trash: Without the tiniest receipt, The penny drops.
“Who is ‘fedora man’? Dapper French teenager in viral Louvre heist photo unmasked: Fifteen-year-old Pedro Elias Garzon Delvaux was captured looking suave in a picture outside the Paris museum on the day of a crown jewels heist” —The Guardian
He wore a brown fedora That flattered his physique, Bequeathing him an aura Of Raymond Chandler chic;
He made no crass maneuver To draw the crowding press, Just lounged outside the Louvre All weary knowingness.
Already thrilled and dizzy— The heist had been so bold— The world implored “Who is he?” But when the truth was told,
It felt somehow defective. His vita was so brief: French schoolboy, not detective, And (Zut alors!) not thief.
“Worth a shout? Yelling is the best way to deter gulls, UK study suggests” —The Guardian
It seems that shouting has deterred The crime of “robbery by bird,” But, when starved seagulls mount attacks On tourists’ chips and other snacks, The sort of yell the thieves might wish Is . . . Sorry that we stole your fish!
“I tried [soccer star] Erling Halland’s fitness routine for a day. I’ve rarely felt so smug” – The Telegraph
But even just a small amount of training Can leave you with a gratifying glow, As long as you are regularly checking It’s slightly more than anyone you know.
“President Trump’s Halloween party at Mar-a-Lago, set to the theme of ‘The Great Gatsby,’ re-enacted the decadence of that story’s licentious era … The revelatory moment says so much about where we stand today—and what we could be lurching into next.” —The New York Times
Gatsby’s back, alive and well. Let the country go to Hell! Drink and spend and have a ball! Who says rising things must fall?
Who says we can’t spend and spend? That “good times” are bound to end? That one can’t just say “Old Sport” and think that will hold the fort?
Party on, and bust, and break! All is for the taking. Take! Spoils are for the Well-To-Do. Raise your glass to You Know Who.
Raise your glass and fork that cash! Who says there will be a Crash? See that Oval Office gleam? Make a nightmare of the Dream.
Snatch huge profits from the loss. Then, pay homage to the Boss. Never suffer shame or doubt.
“Judge shocked as officer joins court meeting over Zoom without wearing pants” —Fox
His Honor grants a legal stay allowing press its exposé about an officer in court whose wardrobe choices came up short as long as no reporter probes what judges wear beneath their robes.
“Slang terms like ‘six-seven’ have no definition. But they’re loaded with meaning” —The Guardian
The kids who spout this gibberish today Must learn to speak in words both pure and true. If they should still refuse the proper way, Hey, 23 skidoo!
We’ll school ’em till the cows come home, for sure, In phrase and elocution while we can. Their slang and nonsense, no one should endure— Your father’s mustache, man!
