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Ghost of Mark Twain here ...
while I was waiting for Roland to come back from one of his rare blood runs,
I flipped through the pages of the New York Times.
Now, I am a humorist ...
which means I am politically amoral.
I just make jokes while Congress makes laws of them.
And, no, "we are not better than this."
When folks had to choose between Tammany Hall and P. T. Barnum,
these sort of things just happen, don't you know?
As I was pontificating earlier,
I was reading what made Ugly Christmas Sweaters beautiful
as opposed to just tacky to make a dollar for the sweater company.
Call me contrary,
but I insist that a true Ugly Christmas Sweater should lack any irony when it is made.
The maker of said sweater should truly believe the sweater is a thing of beauty,
despite the badly stitched Santa, tinny bells, and glaring colors.
It got me to pondering that old P.T., ah, Trump
probably thinks he is quite the catch for the American public.
And just as certain, many voting pilgrims thought so, too.
Maybe they still do.
Me?
I haven't had so much material for my humor
since old Clinton got himself impeached for being confused about what constituted sex!
Oh, lest you think me fond of the other side of the aisle ...
Madame Pelosi, when you question a fella's manhood in "private" in front of an aide ...
It ain't private.
Love the tickling skunk reference.
Though when one skunk tickles another, neither has the right to point paws.
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