Tag Archives: controversy

Trump, Rump, Dump, Chump, Sump Pump – Rhyming Crap


Stank and Tibor - Loving Trump the Drumpf


Trump, Rump, Chump Dump, Sump Pump – Rhyming Crap

It wasn’t long ago that Donald Trump was the butt of many jokes. A rich butt, but a butt all the same. Now, Herr Hair Piece has made life a little scarier with his bid for the Republican presidential nomination and of course his subsequent attack on the — dare I say — The President! None of which is news, of course, as every one and his brother (or sister) has been glued to the TV, radio, mobile device and anything else that reports the so called news these days. You can’t escape it, much as I would like to.

Trump Rhymes With ‘Rump’

It’s not rocket science as to why small-fingered Trump is so popular – and it isn’t his vouching for cuts of Grade ‘A’ beef, so beloved by men with a subconscious wish for an early coronary and preceded by a fine bout of colon cancer. (I think if If he vouched for a mediocre rump roast, it would have hit a little too close to home for him, but apt it would have been, indeed.)

Trump the Rump is a bully, plain and simple. A charismatic shmuck of a bully, but a bully all the same. That’s why so many people love the guy – they’re afraid of him. Or strangely he’s adored and lauded for “telling like it is”  – which is usually code for “I won’t use logic to assess that statement because my rage-related hormones are boiling  like a thin beef broth over an open flame.”

Bullies and blowhards make all kinds of false statements backed by nothing more than bluster (Wow, I used a lot of ‘B’ words in that last sentence. Amazing I didn’t use ‘ball-busting bastards’ – I must be losing my edge.) This aspiring presidential rump is one of the best at beating up (verbally) on anyone and everyone. How nice.

Trump Rhymes With ‘Chump’

It’s quite shocking that a stylish bully like Donald Fart Face has made it this far, because in essence he is a chump. For those who don’t know the word, a chump is defined as “A stupid or foolish person; a dolt.” Oddly, it’s also defined as “A short, thick, heavy piece of wood.”

Foolish he is not, how else could he get legions of people to do his bidding by punching people who disagree with him? Maybe he really is short, thick, heavy piece of wood, originating from a genetically manipulated cross between dog wood (hence his bark) and pond scum that has been poisoned by toxic sun tan lotion? It would explain his stubby fingers…

Trump Rhymes With ‘Dump’

If he is elected the Republican presidential nominee, despite the party’s best efforts to derail him, and goes on to defeat Hilary Clinton in the general election, I think he stands a good chance of having the White House redecorated to look like a Vegas Casino. I can’t really tell you why I believe that. Maybe it’s the spicy Thai chicken I had that’s clouding my brain and making me pass wind.

Since the Trump style involves a lot of gold, hair product, and no doubt a Trump-endorsed male cologne probably made from gasoline and cheap Amaretto, there will be an industrial smell about his presidency. The kind of smell used to mask a city dump.

 Trump Rhymes With ‘Sump Pump’

How one gets to a sump pump from a Trump isn’t as long a twisted journey as you’d think. This kind of pump is used to remove excess liquid, usually from a flooded basement. Where sewage tends to back up, like after a torrential rainfall of crap. Not unlike that which spews from Donald’s mouth on a regular basis as he spits bile and filth at those who oppose him. Nice. How dictator-like.

And it’s not just me who finds it amazing that this chump of a sump pump clump of orange hair masquerading as a human has inspired so many people to come out and vote. He’s certainly tapped into a vein of anger that the Republican elitist jerks neglected for, oh, 30 years or so. Maybe we shouldn’t be so amazed that Trump is where he is given his skill for oratory and showmanship, and his keen ability to reason and use logic like a 4-year old pissed off at the playground.

Enough ranting for one evening. I have other more important things to do. Such as eat marmalade-filled cookies that contain something akin to heroin, hence my predilection for spending actual hard-earned cash on something I m sure is made from petro-sugar, sawdust and chocolate-flavored styrofoam.

Swimmingly swollen,

Field Marshall Druker of the Azores

PS – Happy 80th Birthday, Dad

Credit Races

Dear Darting-Eyed Readers,

Having just finished a workout at the gym last week, it was time to take a shower, which meant I had to deal with the fact that science has again failed me. Why? Because modern beauty product scientists haven’t come up with a way that I can clean myself without using water? No, I like taking a shower with water, it’s a place for me to sing off-key and wash away my many sins.

No, science has disappointed me because it still hasn’t found a way for me to hover in mid-air. No, not so I can smash my so called enemies from above. Enemies that my doctor says are purely imaginary. But what does he know. He’s against me, as are the squirrels and raccoons who tear my garbage bags apart. And the weeds in my garden are definitely my enemies. And he says I need help.

Where was I? Ah, the useless scientists. You see, I would need this ability to hover for one place above all – while using the gym shower / bathroom. Are there any places more athlete’s foot-ridden and smelly than a gym bathroom and shower? Well, maybe the floor of a strip club, but I don’t frequent those places since the shock therapy. If we all could float above the filthy bathroom floor on command, athlete’s foot would be cured and the evil, profiteering cabal of the podiatrists and the oligarchic foot cream producers would be smashed. And think of the benefits when your child / pet vomits and you wouldn’t have to touch the ground. Just glide right over it and let your robot vacuum cleaner clean up the spill.

Oh wait, the low IQ scientists haven’t mastered that either.

So, it is with deep disappointment in mankind, specifically the scientists, that I bring you this installment of the handcrafted “objet d’art” that the secret police in China would have imprisoned me for, despite the fact that I eat a lot of Chinese food. It’s about reality – financial reality more accurately, and no matter what happens, the banks and credit card companies will always win because we humans (me) love to buy stuff. Or have to have our bathrooms renovated thus enriching the interior decorators’ union yet again. There will always be debt, and we need to stay fit to stave off its weighing-down effect.

Or maybe, those lazy scientists could make themselves partly useful and invent a way to make the debt go away. And I don’t mean resorting to modern pharmacology.

Everlastingly yours, until the men in the white coats come,

Feng Shui Druker

It’s Someone’s Fault

Dear Seekers of False Knowledge,

Thanks for tuning in again.

It is said that the definition of insanity is constantly repeating the same action and expecting a different result each time. And I have little reason to doubt that this mental condition called “insanity” is merely some kind of mild brain damage that wasn’t treated when we were children and drank that SPF 4 coconut-scented sun tan lotion in the closet at the age of three.

And speaking of children, mine have shown me that I possess some subtle hints of insanity that really rears its head come get-to-bed time. I repeat the phrase “get upstairs and brush your teeth” several hundred times, each time in a louder voice, each time followed by “don’t make me scream at you again” x 10 to the 7th power.

Of course the kids’ lack of any reaction is troubling, meaning there is  nothing akin to obedience, respect or even a pleasant “we’ll put you in a nice home” pat on the head. Not happening.

Such blood-pressure boiling futility makes me think of the American election just passed. Four years goes by, the Americans spend untold sums of money to diss a lefty black guy and they wind up re-electing him and those that didn’t vote for him go out and buy even more guns because they think some kind of apocalypse is coming. Same thing for the wars in the Middle East. Lots of killing, lots of rhetoric, shipping tankers worth of anger.

Then, along comes Hurricane Sandy, or the umpteenth earthquake or biblical flood somewhere on the globe to remind us that nature is even more insane than us. Some say it is God punishing us, some say it is an angry Mother Nature, some blame mankind and its polluting ways for all this destruction. Some even claim it’s China who is just messing with us. (Actually, you’re all wrong. Everyone knows it is the international cabal of sodium pentathol-addicted dentists who are responsible for the shape of the world. Don’t act like you didn’t know.)

What I find truly amazing is our reaction as humans to this destruction and how we rationalize all this. It’s got to be someone’s fault, no? Lets face it, the universal and human default state of behavior is essentially insanity as defined above, because we keep on doing the same crap.

Well, when insanity is the only predictable thing in this world of ours, there is only one thing to do to cope: you should all go out and eat mountains of high fructose /sucrose/ sugar and crude oil-rich cookies and gain weight so I won’t look so chubby when I stand next to you and wear dark colors to appear slimmer.

Religiously broke and morally bankrupt,

Amistad Druker

Olympic Fun and Games

My dear readers and fans (all 2 of you),

I am nothing short of exhausted as I write this. I should have come home and done more work for my task master, but after dinner, I didn’t have it in me. And what’s worse, it’ all my fault cuz I wouldn’t turn off the bedside lamp before midnight most nights. Why? Not sure, probably all the heady excitement of working at a all-conquering computer software monolith. You can read into that what you will. My eyes are crossing due to tiredness, so I can’t read into anything.

So the Olympics have generated controversy at all levels, and of course I could not just cheer on my country, even though they are finally doing well.

But I had to comment on at all the chaos of the first week, given how much the organizers messed up, and everything else that happened.

Now given that this posting is a week past due, it seems slightly outdated. But there is no rest for the weak or the weary and I have to press on.

And I have had  a dozen other non-Olympic ideas for more cartoons. Just hope I have the strength to scratch these things out in a regular fashion.

Keep reading, keep commenting and forward the link to the site when you have a new friend. Or enemy.