Art Kumbalek
I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, people right and left have been asking me of late about what I’ve given up for the Lent. I got to tell you’s, here we be barely into the season and I’ve yet to declare my sacrifice (neglect my mail?). And as a candidate for president or whatever political office you got, I really ought to come up with something if for no other reason than to maybe score a point or two with the right-righteous Christian voters, ’cause I got a feeling my support amongst the Jesus-hadists tends toward the flaccid at best, you betcha.
And so, I heard the other day that the U.S. congressperson who goes by the name of Marjorie Taylor Greene is screeching about how it’s time for a “national divorce,” apparently that being some-imagined separation betweenst these so-called Red States from the so-called Blue States who both happen to exist under that red-white-and-blue star-spangled piece-of-cloth flag of the United States of America. Where’s log-splitting Honest Abe when you need him, what the fock.
I’m not surprised that “divorce” is not a word festering atop her brain, after all, in December of just last year (2022, for those keeping count), MAGA’s Medusa accomplished a “personal” divorce from her hubby of 27 years, Perry. Lucky guy—now free from having to listen to the constant screech of this Georgian haranguing harridan. Don’t know the terms of the settlement, but I’ll bet you a buck two-eighty she got the House, I kid you not.
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So now she’s free to hitch up with the youngish tattooed nutbag pistol-packing Oath Keeper of her choice who’ll make a mighty nice First Man as she dreams of being president so’s she can really put the “white” into the White House, you betcha.
And her dream continues through to when she accepts the Republican nomination for president of the “United” States, when she says from the podium at that imaginary convention hall:
“I love the red, white and blue. America! But we have a problem now between the god-loving Red States and the radical communist pedophiliac Blue States. As your president, I ensure to achieve a compromise, by force if needed, so that all states are White states. And yes, I am open to the debate, amongst certain respected QAnon quarters, as to whether or not slavery was indeed such an evil thing. Everything’s on the table with me. If an enslavement work program for people who are not of accepted color-skin could economically put the country I love back onto the path of prosperity, I’m all ears and full of ideas. God bless America.”
And just so you’s know, here’s a little background to peruse on U.S. Rep. Greene from a year ago, late February 2022:
nymag.com/intelligencer/2022/02/marjorie-taylor-greene-spoke-at-white-nationalist-event.html
(To save you some precious reading time, the first paragraph to this story is this: “Congresswoman Marjorie Taylor Greene appeared at a white-nationalist conference on Friday night where Vladimir Putin was cheered and Adolf Hitler was praised.”
Yeah, focking swell.
So, Marj, but a “national” divorce? OK then, I’m thinking your team can have Texas and Florida in a heartbeat and… we’ll toss in Oklahoma, Arkansas, Indiana and Wy-focking-oming to boot. For the Blues, it’s time they transform American Samoa, Guam, Puerto Rica and Washington D.-focking-C. into legitimate states of the Union like they finally ought to be. And yes, God bless America, you betcha.
But speaking of divorce, how ’bout a little story or two to lighten the mood:
A divorce court judge said to the husband, “I have reviewed this case very carefully, and I’ve decided to give your wife $800 a week.”
“That’s very fair, your honor,” the husband replied. “And every now and then, I’ll try to send her a few bucks myself.” Ba-ding!
And this:
A man and his wife are at a restaurant, and the husband keeps staring at a drunken lady swigging her gin at a nearby table.
His wife asks, “Do you know her?”
“Yes,” the husband sighs. “She’s my ex-wife. She took to drinking right after we divorced seven years ago, and I hear she hasn’t been sober since.”
“My God!” the wife says. “Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?” Ba-ding!
So I’ve got to go but I’ll leave you with a nice little story I ran out of room to squeeze into my February Valentine’s Day verbiage the other weeks:
A woman is chatting with the neighbor lady over the backyard fence when she sees her husband coming home carrying a bunch of some kind of flowers. “Isn’t that nice, he’s bringing you flowers,” the neighbor lady says. The woman says, “Oh, great, just what I need, another weekend flat on my back with my feet up in the air.” And the neighbor says, “What—you don’t have a vase?”
Ba-ding! ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.
