Art Kumbalek
I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, first, a quick note to my pal El Jefe out there in Bethesda, Maryland—state nicknames: “America in Miniature,” “The Old Line State, “The Free State” (unless you’re of-color and reside in Balti-focking-more, I imagine); and just so you know for the next time you’re on “Jeopardy,” the state crustacean for Md. is the blue crab; and the state motto is the high-falutin “Fatti maschi, parole femmine,” which some translate to English as “Manly deeds, womanly words,” what the fock. But I digress.
El J had sent to me a “stiff liter of internal anti-viral medicine” (known on the street as Old Crow) way back around Father’s Day. Seeing as how I’d not been to the Shepherd’s digs since Feb. 14, I had no idea of such a gift, that is, until the other day when I was informed that there had been a big box of mailage sent to me over there by the Third Ward Buffalo St. and that I ought to come retrieve it, which I did. And of which I chose to sample just as I sat down to whip out this essay, ’cause a guy’s got to maintain his health, ain’a? And here’s to yours, El Jefe, thank you kindly. Your concern for my well-being is much appreciated, I kid you not.
And so, as we used to say in America’s Dairyland, “Forward.” And about the “stable genius” that informs our fockstick president, Humpty-Dumbty Trumpel-thinskin, here’s a quote from a recent interview the fat ass did with the news website Axios:
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Russia used to be a thing called the Soviet Union. Because of Afghanistan they went bankrupt. They became Russia, just so you do understand.
I do understand, thank you. Welcome to the fourth grade, Donald. Now, take this dunce cap and please find a seat.
And in case you missed it, there’s this, from USA Today, Aug. 6:
Donald Trump turned heads on Tuesday when he mispronounced the word “Yosemite” at a White House event to sign a bipartisan conservation bill.
“When young Americans experience the breathtaking beauty of the Grand Canyon, when their eyes widen in amazement as Old Faithful bursts into the sky, when they gaze upon Yosemite’s—Yosemite’s towering sequoias, their love of country grows stronger and they know that every American has truly a duty to preserve this wondrous inheritance,” Trump said.
But he stumbled over Yoh-sem-it-ee, pronouncing it YO-se-MIGHT, and then adding a syllable, “YO-se-min-NIGHT.” Ba-ding!
“Excuse me, is there a Donald Trump in this classroom? Please come with me, we need to move you back to the third grade. And don’t forget your dunce cap.”
Yes sir, YO-se-MIGHT Don: “Oooo, I’d like to lay my hands on the lily-livered swab is writ that forgery,” and, “All right, all right don’t rush me, I’m-a-thinkin’... and my head hurts.” I’ll tell you’s, it’s kind of a shame that Bugs (Ehh, what’s up Don?) Bunny can’t be the Democratic presidential nominee just ’cause, I guess, he’s a rabbit. But to see a televised debate between Bugs and YO-se-MIGHT Don? That’s all folks, election is over, and yes President Bunny, there’s no shortage of carrots in the White House. And then, sufferin’ succotash, could I die as a peaceful and satisfied man, what the fock.
Hold on, I just saw a headline on CNN that says this: “Trump says Americans will have to learn Chinese if Biden wins.” OK, but I’ll bet you a buck two-eighty that’ll be a piece of cake compared to Trump trying to learn spoken English, ain’a?
And let’s not forget that the Orange Circus Peanut just the other day when he was out in South Dakota (state motto: “Under God the people rule,” and I say “You got to be jerking my beefaroni with that focking motto”), was wondering what it would take to have his mug hammered into Mount Rushmore. Speaking of which, is it just me or does Teddy Roosevelt kind of look like Mrs. Doubtfire with a mustache?
But for fock’s sake, having Trump alongside Washington, Jefferson, T.R. and Honest Abe would be like adding Soupy Sales to the Mona Lisa, or sketching John focking Gotti onto the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel; you know, something not quite right about it, what the fock.
And don’t get me going about Kanye Yeezy West’s moniker on a presidential ballot with mine own nowhere to be found. That’ll be for next week, if I remember since right now I hear the Old Crow calling so I got to go, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.