IT’S ALL MY FAULT
Time’s Up!
By Duane Scott Cerny
Cicadas: By The Billions. Cricket: Zero.
South Dakota Governor Kristi Noem morphed into infamous with the release of her new book titled No Going Back. Oh, how a simple period after the word no would make all the difference: No. Going Back.
Summary: She shot a puppy named Cricket that she couldn’t train with a shock collar. She killed a goat like a drive-by rapper murder because she was still pissed about her dog… though not her lack of empathy. She also killed three horses because, you know, that biblical horsemen/ apocalypse thing.
Now who among us would like to suggest she attend a Ted (Bundy) Anger Management Talk?
Noem also claims she met North Korea President Kim Jong Un, which, like Servpro, never even happened. She blames her ghostwriter/editor for the error while panic-searching for her shock collar and shotgun.
Also revealed, Noem formerly Bible school (Kim is a word missing here) to the little tykes, which makes a lot of sense. The Bible, as we all know, can be a little violent: rather like the script for Faces of Death videos. Lots and lots of both casting lots and smiting.
When Kristi Noem finally smites her political career, I might even buy one of those scratch and sniff Trump Bibles … the one that smells like goat.
Hopeless Hick-Ups, Stormy Weathers
Is the Trump Trial ever in our rearview house of mirrors? It may have ended with Michael Cohen being poorly grilled even though he’d ordered the steak tartare, but it began with Hope Hicks, a woman who has overcome her exterior beauty by being ugly on the inside.
Hicks broke down in tears when forced to speak honestly, perhaps the first time since she boarded Air Force One because, well, Trump likes her by his side. It’s the closest he ever got to her inside. A plane, that is.
Apparently, Trump never grabbed her by the “Josie and the Pussycats”—not because he didn’t want to but because Air Force One has stabilizers for such unwanted sexual turbulence.
Courtroom highlight: When Hicks first heard about the Access Hollywood clip, she was given a transcript, which she then handed to Trump. He did not read it aloud though his lips were moving.
Trump said, “It didn’t sound like something I would say.” Hicks then saw the video and declared: “Deny, deny, deny!” However, when her moral code was tested a well of tears came flooding out… proving that wherever there’s hope, there’s mire.
Stormy Daniels, perhaps the most eloquent porn star to ever sleep with a future president, testified with a consistency that Trump could not find at the bottom of a ketchup bottle.
Though the prosecution attempted to make her testimony thorny, Stormy dropped the “t” in the previous phrase and rocked the courtroom with all the details of a braille OnlyFans page.
Cohen’s integrity may forever remain in question, but Stormy had all the answers. In the grand cesspool pool of devilish Trump characters, Stormy practically walked on holy water. Or to quote a famous biblical author: “Let the one among you who is without sin cast the first stone.” Roger Stone would be best, but any stone will do.
The Present of Vice?
Donald Trump has been sorting through potential vice-presidential picks just like he did with national secrets: chewing them up and spitting them in nearby toilets.
I have a suggestion: hire a VP that’s good with plumbing, doesn’t shoot dogs, and doesn’t refer to his wife as “Mother.” Such a candidate can’t be that difficult to find …or does the big tent Republican party find itself reduced to choosing between a puppy killer or J.D. Vance? Either way, it’s a Hillbilly eulogy.
Unfair Trading, Joe!
Let’s talk about the Trader Joe’s tote bag. Tens of thousands of people are snagging these bags for $2.99 and reselling online for as much as $500. Okay, I resell vintage pieces for a living, but WTF?
I recall when Pee-wee Herman got busted in an adult movie theater. In the days that followed, Toys R Us tossed millions of dollars’ worth of Pee-wee inventory into the trash. Many people went dumpster diving and made small fortunes reselling Miss Yvonne dolls, Jambi’s head in a box, or Tito’s underwear. Just kidding on that last one (I think).
Yes, limited supplies move markets but trust me, Trader Joe’s isn’t running out of tote bags or overpriced arugula. Gucci, Pucci, Fiorucci, Tee-Joe’s? Say it ain’t so…
Time’s up? Watch for future Fox News headline twist: “Traitor Joe Biden, Bagged!”
Duane Scott Cerny takes the blame for most everything in his monthly satirical column, It’s All My Fault. Best-selling author of Selling Dead People’s Things and Vintage Confidential, he is the co-owner of Chicago’s Broadway Antique Market and a guest favorite among hungry podcasters. Contact him at E-ThanklessGreetings@yahoo.com or at thedeadpeoplesstore.etsy.com
