How To Talk Politics 2015

Have you ever wanted to “talk politics” but don’t quite know the the hot button issues/the code of conduct/the meaning of “veto” (does anyone really?!)  Do you find yourself forgetting the tricky little details, such as the number of branches of government, the Presidents’ coronation date, or the difference between a “radical” dude and a “radical” Speaker of the House? Well, here are some simple standard rules of protocol to follow to help any poor ignorant fool successfully spit some mad politics…

  1. Speak whatever your point may be as loudly as possible, and remember, shouting, howling and angry weeping are by no means off limits; people are generally unable to comprehend differing political perspectives unless the message is conveyed by means of a deeply horrifying passion.
  2. Always remember that the political arena is like a birthday party laser tag match; think of the president as the birthday boi/gurl (his team is expected to win, but it doesn’t always work out that way cuz some of his friends are mean and care about winning more than pleasing the bday chosen one ;/ ), and imagine the right-wingers and the left-wingers as two teams of children running around in the dark, making fun lil strategies and playing war with lasers blindly fired through artificial fog at the shifting shadows of opponents who are doing just the same right back. AND BY NO MEANS ever forget that there is always a winning team and always a losing team – THERE IS NO COMPROMISE AND NO MODERATION IN LASER TAG I MEAN POLITICS – the game would be no fun otherwise the system could never work otherwise!
  3. If you’re really looking to make a splash and to reveal yourself to your peers as a bold fount of questionable political opinion, there are certain trigger phrases that you should be prepared to whip out for special occasions.  These include but are in no way limited to: “Barack Hussein Obama … heard he was born in Osama Bin Laden’s hidey hole,” “Inequality no longer exists, you dumbass prole,”” “Ben Carson stabbed me once” or a simple “Hillary Clinton…” but preferably, bellow it with maniacal glory or whisper it while threateningly stroking the Dark Mark on the underside of your forearm.
  4. If you want to say something bold and provocative but have no way of backing up your ridiculous assertions, fear not, there is ample space to maneuver around these trivial inconveniences.  Should you decide to play on Team Republican,at the end of your uninformed (shhshhh no one need know) declarations, just throw in a little “I heard it on Fox News,” or the ever-effective “Rush Limbaugh told me,” or simply caress the cross fondly around your neck and tell them softly, “The Lord would have it this way,” (and if they’re still having doubts, offer them your bible to use as a fact checker).  If, on the other hand, you’re playing for Team Democrat, should anyone question your hogwash, immediately, and with the fury of hell, accuse them of being a sexist, racist, anti-semitic, death eater abomination.  This seems to do the trick quite nicely.
  5. And finally, you must never ever forget that you are right and that everyone else is wrong.  DO NOT fall prey to the rookie mistake of listening to a differing perspective.  THIS WILL BE YOUR DOWNFALL as ANY opinion diverging from yours is sickening, irrelevant, ungodly filth and is most likely a crime against humanity.   To avoid falling into the trap of civilized discourse or of a heinous exchange of ideas, it is a common modern practice to plug one’s ears with beeswax just as the old sea dogs and sailors of bygone times once did in order to protect themselves from the infernal lure of the sirens’ fatal song.

Godspeed, my blossoming politicians.  May this misguided poppycock bring you great success along your political path to endless riches and infinite, birdbrained glory.

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The Slicer Knifer Commercial(s)

Two takes, one commercial (for the latest and greatest cutlery invention: THE SLICER KNIFER).  We haven’t yet decided whether an American or a Russian accent will sell our product more effectively – or if there’s really even a perceptible difference between the two takes!  Please let us know your thoughts, and call us at 1-800-SLICE-YO-KNIFE if you’re interested in one of our superb butter blades.

Voldemort’s Cover of “Hello” by Adele

As some of you already know, I recently attempted to post a Lord Voldy version of Adele’s “Hello,” but that ended up being a twisted, husk of a failure because the angry copyright monsters stripped me of my sound and left me with an unsettling silent video of an evil sorcerer’s weird face instead of the darkly magical music video I’d originally envisioned … SO since they’ve forced my hand, I have had no other choice but to go Voldemort himself for some disturbing though legally acceptable vocals. And He (Who Must Not be Named) has provided in spades.

Please enjoy this haunting ballad:

(Work)Life Pre-Russia, Pre-Lawschoolio: Unexpectedly, Delightfully Peculiar

As some of the members of my friendz and family flock already know, while biding my time in motherland Columbus before blasting off agaaaaaiiin (<stole that line from Team Rocket), I’ve been working in between a small law firm and an interpreting agency (literally in between – my desk is positioned in no-man’s-land limbo terrain between the two fine establishments) respectively run by a hilarious, wise-cracking attorney and his particular-though-warm, equally entertaining Russian wife.  It’s been a dandy and unexpectedly bizarre work environment, which is my ideal since I seek out and thrive on eccentricity like Voldemort thrives on unicorn blood in the Sorcerer’s Stone shenanigans…….

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Anywhooooo, since I’ve been working here for over two months now, at least 47,056 extremely odd incidents have already taken place, but sadly my lil pea brain can’t remember them all and, even if it could, my lil pea fingers would hurt a lot and maybe even snap like a dang kitkat if I attempted to type up an account of all the weird things that happen in my life (even if merely limiting it to my werq world).  So, in light of these pitiable realities, I’ll limit myself to sharing with you a fistful of noteworthy recent events just to fingerpaint ya a clearer picture of the current goings-on of my vida loca, chica.

  • Some random bros came in one day about a week ago and, apparently, took QUITE a zoom in photo of my face while I was talking on the phone, which, I’ve just found out, is to be used on the company website.  Unsurprisingly, my glorious 15 minutes of fame includes an extreme close up shot of my unflattering giggle face.  I imagine that the caption under the photo on the company website will read, “As per the Employment Non-Discrimination Act of 2015, we now hire psychopaths.  Don’t be alarmed; we only hire the upbeat ones 😉 Shhhshhhshhh…”
  • A conversation that I had with my boss on the phone once:

“Hey Jim; there’s a client out here asking for you.”

“WHATCHU SAY?!?”

“MANE, I DON’T EVEN KNOW ANYMO’!”

“Well, sheeeeit tell him to come on BACK.”

“Aight, homey.”

And we never discussed this exchange again.  (Just as a side note: my boss is a 68 year old attorney)

  • Once, just as I was about to step into the elevator to take it down to the ground floor, a large metal coggish rod fell right out of the top of the sick, little metal death box’s ceiling, landing at my feet and terrorizing the woman and child behind me who had been following me to what appears to have been our imminent doom.  When I told my boss, he responded with a laugh and said, “You do what you want, but I’m taking the stairs.” (Incidentally, the elevator was repaired shortly thereafter.  I still take the stairs.)
  • Today, unbeknownst to me, the firemen in the hood had earlier used a nearby fire hydrant, which sent demon-possessed bubbles rushing all throughout our building pipes.  Classically, hoping for a glass of water, I instead received an explosion in the face.  This may have been alright, I might just have been able to have proceeded unfazed and with some lingering dignity from this event, had I chosen to forego my nice scalding hot afternoon cup o’ tea.  I did not.  I came out of that one with neither poise nor dignity, only extremely burnt red sausage hands and a newfound fear of hot water – or, as psychologists refer to it, Agua Caliente Diavolo.
  • BREAKING NEWS: as I was writing about my hot water burns above, I received a call from my boss claiming to be the head of the Walmart lingerie department and informing me of some great new sales.  I found out from him that there’s a sweet, new 2 for 1 sale taking place this very moment, so I ordered two of everything – who am I to pass up a topnotch Wally World offer like that?
  • About once a week, I have a very pleasant phone conversation with a prison inmate calling for an attorney who is frequently not in the office.  So that his call from prison isn’t completely wasted, we usually have a quick, profound chatsky.  So far, we’ve discussed the subtleties of prison cuisine, the philosophy of forgiveness and regret, redemption tactics, my favorite Halloween candies – pretty much all of the important stuff.
  • I was once asked to dispose of a single m&m; on a separate occasion, I was asked to frighten away from the parking lot outside of our building a man named Pablo who can’t/won’t stop spinning around a huge, bedazzled sign advertising his used car company.  I’m not yet certain how to best go about describing my job duties/responsibilities on my resume.

Regrettably, I’m gonna have to stop myself there because the third degree burns on my frankfurter fingers are starting to flare up.  Gotta go run and grab some bandages for these blistering bad boys.  If my next entry is difficult to read and words look like this: lksjaghlksjdfgksj;ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhfd sdkgjhskl;jgh dffffffffg sdghsdklg;hl, just know that my fingers will have likely been amputated and I will be attempting to type with my mangled fists.  On that note, catch ya later, gators. 😀

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Donald Trump: Smug Muggle or Idiotic Wizard simply disguised as one?

So has anyone noticed that Donald Trump is just a confused Professor Lockhart masquerading about as a muggle? Still using those wily memory charms and making people believe he’s committed wondrous, fantastical, fictional deeds… Someone had better alert St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies that their patient has escaped…

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Gogurt’s Latest Breakthrough: An Iranian Uranium Flavor Fusion !!!

HEY GANG! Your dreams concerning portable yogurt are all about to come true because Gogurt’s got a mildly unstable, wildly unacceptable new flavor:

THE PERFECT SOURCE OF (NUCLEAR**) ENERGY FOR YOUR POOR, EMPTY BELLY !!!!

Lambent, phosphorescent whirlyswirls of orange, irradiated red, and temperamental yellow/green, this synthetically sweet, exotic blend of debatably natural fruit juices is also enriched with Iran’s excess stock of Uranium, freshly centrifuged and ready to GO, adding that unmistakable eXpLoSiOn of flavor to your Gogurt !!!

“BE CAREFUL! I THINK THAT GOGURT IS READY TO BLOWGURT!!! – A thrilled customer who was screaming with enthusiasm not fear

Limited edition: Get it while supplies last/before we’re obligated to send away our stock of ebullient, frightfully fun highly toxic chemicals ingredients to Russia.

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**This is neither a joke nor hyperbole – your stomach cavity will be host to certain radioactive chemical elements commonly utilized to fuel nuclear power plants.  Be gravely warned.