A Smile or a Laugh Makes Any Day Better
I love hearing people laugh. I love smiling faces. I’ve been the editor and chief writer for the Krewe du Vieux newspaper, Le Monde de Merde, since its inception. All the way back in college, I edited our campus satire publication, The Crab, for two years, and satire and parody remain two of my very favorite forms of humor writing. Political satire in particular delights me — and let me apologize in advance if any offense is caused; I promise I am an equal opportunity satirist, poking fun (and trying always to punch upwards) across the political spectrum.
I’ll be putting up some witticisms here from time to time, in hopes of making your day just a little bit funnier — and brighter. Access them using the buttons below.
The Suburban Preppy Blues
Inspired by a wonderful spoof article that listed all the key elements of a classic blues song — a pickup truck, beer or whiskey, blue jeans,
a relationship breakup, an old shack, etc. — I decided to write the antithesis. Hence “The Suburban Preppy Blues”, exquisitely set to music
by my talented friend Larry Hoffmeister. Click it, listen, enjoy!
Ode to the Fat Dude at the Top of the Expert Ski Slope
Looking like an avalanche,
Would you prevail where others blanche?
Some have turned away from here,
But you have not a sense of fear.
And now your great descent begins,
Throwing caution to the winds;
Feel the tugging of the breeze,
See the flashing of the skis,
Hear the crashing of the trees.
As I watch, I think perhaps
Man’s reach should not exceed his grasp.
The Trumpster Went Down to Georgia
The Trumpster went down to Georgia,
Looking for an election to steal,
He was in a bind ’cause he was way behind,
And he was losing every appeal.
He came across a Black woman
Organizing folks all ‘cross the state,
And the Trumpster jumped out of his big golf cart,
And said, “Girl, we’re gonna debate.
You think you won an election,
And another one’s coming soon,
But don’t you gloat, we’ll suppress the vote,
And then you’ll change your tune.”
The woman said, “My name’s Stacey,
And you may be big stuff,
But the people’s voice will make the choice,
And I’ll show you from tough.”
Stacey round the voters up and get ’em to the polls,
‘Cause the runoff there in Georgia will decide Senate control,
And if you win then there’s a chance democracy will hold,
But if you lose the Trumpster won’t let go.
The Trumpster opened up his phone and said, “I’ll swipe come votes,”
And sweat oozed out his oily pores with each conspiracy he’d float,
And when he called the governor, he threatened and he begged,
And sycophantic Congressmen, their vows they all reneged.
When the Trumpster finished, Stacey said “The word for that is treason,
And we’ll show that you’re a double loser this election season.”
They had massive turnout in Atlanta, Svannah went deep blue,
Columbus voted Democrat, Augusta stood up too,
Clarke and Fulton, Clay and Hancock, Macon and Calhoun,
Voters by the millions sang that new progressive tune.
The Trumpster blew a gasket ’cause he knew that he’d been beat,
He lied and cried and truth denied with every raging tweet,
Stacey said, “Trumpster you just go on home and start saving up your bail,
I told you that the people rule, and soon we’ll be throwing you in jail.”
They had massive turnout in Atlanta, Savannah went deep blue,
Columbus voted Democrat, August stood up too,
Clarke and Fulton, Clay and Hancock, Macon and Calhoun,
Voters by the millions sang that new progressive tune.
