Red Rooster,

Now who's going to shoot Whinny? I'm hungry for bear brain salad.

Why Comrade, just pass on his dacha address and I'll take care of it.

Comrade Tsarvena,

A free pass to Chuck E. (Government) Cheese for you if you can identify every reference in my diatribes to current events.

-RR

Commodore,

Ahem... that's one big gun... I see Bruno blushing. The PBUH is at is at 13888 E. Stalin St. Moscow, The Motherland. Be gentle...one barrel at a time. He''s just a small bear.

-RR

Red Rooster wrote:Commodore,

Ahem... that's one big gun... I see Bruno blushing. The PBUH is at is at 13888 E. Stalin St. Moscow, The Motherland. Be gentle...one barrel at a time. He''s just a small bear.

-RR

Red! Sorry to report but I failed! Just could not do it. Photo RECON prior to firing revealed this! Looks like this one will be posting here a long time as a loyal party member.

AHHHH! Awfulness!!!! Republikkan rats are disguising selves as bears! Smaller targets require more advanced marksmanship techniques...

Judge Fraulein Pulloskies wrote:My dear loyal comrade, Whinny, I am thinking the problem might be the lack of goodies for all?

I therefore, being Judge Frau, will deem the trail complete, closed and over. . . and deposit at your local depository a delectable treat of your very own. Oh yes, ummm, I have deemed you GUILTY on all charges therefore making you a fine Made Prog ™ .... in the line of fine Made Progs ™ as Presidente William Clinton!

judge frau beer.jpg

And now the rest of us glorious Progs, can enjoy cool refreshments of our own. What comrades is ready for a cooling drink? NOT mine, of course..

WTF it's over?

No one notified me that a shamtrial was being held. I didn't get a chance to lietestify!

This is most disturbing Comrades, a trial transpired and a Party Elite was not informed!

Well at least the "delectable treat" is a fair reperation, like I always said ...

Bee sweet, eat your honey.

Father Prog Theocritus wrote:General Confusion, if you've already have two show trials, then you are one lucky little proglet. It took Pupovich years before he had two show trials. In fact I got very tired of those lambent, glabrous eyes. "Please, Father Prog, just another show trial. I've got some more moves."

I reluctantly agreed because I was afraid of another attack of Pupovich's talent-shitting pigeons and the nano Jimmy Carter rabbits. You know, the little things the size of a Gere Gerbil with teeth that could eat fish guts from a steel-wire brush. They're irritating enough, but it's when they form a circle and hiss, "Nuclar! Nuclar! We're nuclar engineers!" it's more than this old prog, so tired of being in the trenches of class warfare, can take.

Ah, Comm.....er...Father Prog Theocritus! It does an old progressive's black heart much good to see you again! I am a bit at a loss though.... were you stripped of your Commissar rank? I can assure you that my nano Jimmy Carter rabbits nor my talent shitting pigeons did not reveal the set of George Bush pj's nor any of the Chairman's Hummels that you have stashed in your house. Or is Father Prog a well deserved promotion?

I do have to contend with you on one thing, it did not take me years before my beloved back stabbing comrades honored me with a Show Trial. I am relatively certain that a close review of my file will reveal that in fact, within but 1 year I achieved no less than 2 Show Trials.

But I am afraid my comrades do me wrong who think that I am seeking yet another opportunity for either a Show Trial for myself, or yet another promotion...at least at this moment. I am more than happy to see one of these new progressive candidates face a proper Show Trial. The more the merrier.


Actually, I am facing one of the bleakest and scariest circumstances that I have ever faced in my life, which I would be glad to share with you privately. Keep me in your thoughts, I really am in a rather desperate situation.

You would think Comrade Father Prog got religion. No, I don't think so. It's just a new kind of power trip he's on. I wouldn't be surprised if he's working on some kind of Pope-Mobile to carry him around.


You're in my prayers.

Leninka wrote:You would think Comrade Father Prog got religion. No, I don't think so. It's just a new kind of power trip he's on. I wouldn't be surprised if he's working on some kind of Pope-Mobile to carry him around.

Prog-Mobile?

I thought our faith in Socialism was a religion. Thanks Leninka, I can just imagine Father Prog being carried aloft in his Prog-Mobile by two dozen Proles. Xerxes in the 300 comes to mind.


Pup,
My thoughts and prayers are with you. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help.

Царевна wrote:

Leninka wrote:You would think Comrade Father Prog got religion. No, I don't think so. It's just a new kind of power trip he's on. I wouldn't be surprised if he's working on some kind of Pope-Mobile to carry him around.

Prog-Mobile?

A Prog-Mobile is a great idea. But we couldn't trust Father Prog to design one. With his limousine liberal, solar yacht for me, because I care more than anyone else about the planet, and one squiggly light bulb ration for you mentality, his idea of prog-mobile would likely not suit the masses, but then again, I shouldn't be so quick to judge.

Leninka, why not trust me to design the Progmobile? I'll take you for a spin. You'll love it. It will have heavy-duty crash bumpers to mow over the proles in the way.

Rasputin, while I like the idea of a sedan chair, still I must insist on at least a 400HP motor. There have been times in my illustrious past when it was mete for me to get out of town in a hurry and a bunch of sickly, whipped and overworked proles just won't do it fast enough.

Pupovich, keep the faith in Obowma, the Repository of All Truth. The RAT will keep you safe and whole.

Red Rooster wrote:Comrade Tsarvena,

A free pass to Chuck E. (Government) Cheese for you if you can identify every reference in my diatribes to current events.

-RR

I'm afraid I don't recognize them all, because since the MTE taught us that Al Jazeera is the only news channel worth watching, I've only been watching that. Hmmm....could it be that Donald Trump has decided to replace Charles Shummer with a pick axe?

I hope I win, the Maestro loves Chuck-E-Cheese.

I don't know about Al Jazeera being the only news worth watching; I believe our Many Titted Empress much loves sitting on Chris Matthews' tingling leg.

Whom to feel sorry for?

I only feel sorry for the janitor who has to clean up the mess afterward.

Leninka, tell me. How many times have I complained about the mess at the Rancho when our Many Titted Empress gets drunk? I have only mentioned her trotters destroying my terrazzo, her tusks my dry wall, but I have no mentioned some of the other, er, fragrances that she emits. I'm told that this is endemic; when she was First Sow of Arkansas, and Comrade Bill was Liar in Chief, one of the reasons that the LIC wasn't reelected was her personal hygiene.

I did not want to say anything, but there is something to it.

Thank you Father Prog. Not many give consideration to those of us who must clean up after the activities of our illustrious comrades. I have heard through the "downstairs" networks that the Many T.E. or La Empressa Bastante Tetas, not only exudes a fragrance, as you witnessed, but there is also a sticky residue left behind wherever she goes and the only thing that gets it out is "Goo Gone."

Dearest Comrade Leninka, the only thing that works for me is heated naphtha sprayed at high pressure with a fire hose.

Then a platoon with steel-wired brushes. A strong detergent solution, and that's for the first layer. More Varsol, more soap, then water. A police-tape quarantine and we have to spend a weekend in the pool house.

I say we; Bruno once decided to spend time at the Rancho and I couldn't care less; if the fumes addles his brain, so what? It would make him the perfect prog. After all, he's been saying disquieting things lately, like calling Miss Nanski a velociraptor.

This is a self-awarness and a refusal to be blinded by education and station--after all, I am a made prog--that he must be reduced to the gibbering credulity of the drive-by media.

When I hear Bruno talk about FDR going on television, since he was the president under whom the Depression happened, and then blame George Bush for not knowing that FDR wasn't president nor was television commercially released, then I'll decide he's had enough Varsol fumes to fry his brain to the complete, totally ossified and stultified state of Charlie Gibson's brain.

BTW, last night I heard a knocking at the bedroom window. I wondered it if was a supernatural manifestation like the Amityville Horror or a garden-variety peeper, but it was the Couric Head, leering at me. "Let me in, Father Prog, let me in. I have things to tell you," it hissed, which was funny considering that there were no lungs to supply breath.

I thought about doing so, because in my experience the flies desert the cat box for the Couric head, but thought that I simply couldn't stand the stupidity and self-entitlement.

So I bought a stuffed Siamese cat.

Father Prog Theocritus,

'Let Me In!'

LOL!!!

Comrade Grigori,

Cats turn all cat owners into butlers. Yes, that video brings back fond memories.

Father Prog Theocritus,

From your description, I can see that the rumors about the MTE were quite watered down. Goo Gone doesn't even begin to describe what you described--platoons, steel brushes, police tape. I'm surprised that people who get anywhere near the MTE don't find themselves stuck to the floor like bugs to a glue board.

But the Couric? You had a visit from the Ghouly Girl? What does she say about her receiving an award for trapping the Palin? It seems like yesterday that she received an award for besmirching the Palin. And now, she's like the ghost of John Brown wandering around in the swamp.

Rasputin, your video reminds me of Calvin and Hobbes, my two ex-tom cats. Well, I had them neutered in practice for the AmeriKKKan public, except for prole breeding stock. Nonetheless I do find cats interesting.
Leninka, some while ago I had a visit from the Couric and had no choice but to cut off her head with my 12" Kikuichi Samurai chef's knife. They really exist and are superlative.

But I had to get another one, because even though there are nine layers, forged by a 700-year-old company which until they were outlawed, made Samurai swords.

I was forced to cut off her head because everywhere in the house it was like the Cheshire cat reappearing to Alice and then disappearing, all but its smile. The Couric head had nothing but a smirk, perched on top of expensively clad Disney Aminatronics and two of Steinway's finest piano legs.

The problem was that I'd see that that...smile. And then something really really stupid would come out. I mean stupid even for a prog, and if I thought progs should be smart, I wouldn't have opened Jiffy-Lobo. A brain always gets in way of upright progitude

Couple that with the nano Jimmy Carter rabbits hissing "Nuclar! Nuclar! Nuclar!" And the talent-shitting pigeons. I had no choice but to sever the Couric head.

As I was sawing through her neck, it was as though I opened up a vacuum like an old picture tube and the head imploded, bending my knife owing to the suction. Bear in mind, this is a forged knife with nine layers of the finest Japanese steel. And still the vacuum bent it and it stuck to the hole leading into her cranial cavity.

It took a crowbar to get get it off, and when I did, the remaining suction pulled the pictures off the wall. I had to hold tight not to be sucked in.

I swear, I haven't seen that much suction since, well, Chrissy Wallace talked about the tingle running up his leg. And he did it without his john in the room and sitting down. Amazing.

After the gale-force winds died down, even pulling off some of the dry wall that I'd replaced after our Many Titted Empress' last drunken rampage, I investigated the Couric head. Now I know I was brave: it was still smiling and snarling and beaming and the eyes were just as before. I shone a flashlight in there and was rewarded with complete and total void. Nothing. I then spoke, "Nice weather today," and from the echo I heard, "That's because George Bush had nothing to do with it."

Then, to see if she was a true prog, I said, "The finest person who ever lived, on this or any other world, in this or any other time, is Barry, Lord Obama!" and the head smiled and spittle appeared on her lips. The echo oddly enough sounded like either a Spice Girls song or a porn video. Not sure which.

There is one thing that I can say for certain, and you know how I hate OPF (that's Other People's Facts, which interrupt my prog psychosis), and I can say this with such certainty that I, as Father Prog, declare it to be an article of faith:

The fastest way to the top, if you want to be a Made Prog, is to buy a season ticket to Jiffy-Lobo. If you have nothing in your cranial pan but a vortex of resentment and entitlement, then you're a shoo-in for the high reaches of progdom.

Oh, my! Father Prog Theocritus, your stories are riveting, and like a never ending saga, they leave me with more questions. Is the knife all right?

Leninka wrote:Oh, my! Father Prog Theocritus, your stories are riveting, and like a never ending saga, they leave me with more questions. Is the knife all right?

I agree Comrade Father. And I infer that your head must be a very fascinating place, and quite possibly somewhat scary.

Comradettes, thank you for your inquiry. The knife is fine although I'm afraid it will never be used for any heavy-duty things like chopping off the Couric Head. But that's sort of like surviving Omaha Beach, isn't it? I mean, cutting off the Couric Head.

I'm afraid that this simple Samurai knife will forever more be used for only chopping vegetables. Oh, and for the amputation of the fingers and toes of various people who do not instantly agree with The Current Truth™.

I wish Che Gourmet were here; we could make a restaurant called Truth du Jour. You know, that's what is current truth after MSNBC and CNN rewrite the facts to make it more palatable.

Bear in mind the Prog's First Order: Truth comes out my ass.

Vegetables? Good grief! The Couric neck tendons must have been stringier than the MTE's golden locks. However, you say the knife may still be good for cutting off hands, not Nanski' Peloski's long grasping hands, never those hands.

Leninka, I had to set in diamond-coated grinding wheels to blunt Nanski's grasping talons. Did you know that she can leave divots on concrete with them?

Still, it is not the damage that the knife suffered. It's the fact that the implosion of the Couric Head was so severe that it sucked in half my Waterford and the last of Meow's Hummels.

Father Prog Theocritus wrote:Leninka, I had to set in diamond-coated grinding wheels to blunt Nanski's grasping talons. Did you know that she can leave divots on concrete with them?

Still, it is not the damage that the knife suffered. It's the fact that the implosion of the Couric Head was so severe that it sucked in half my Waterford and the last of Meow's Hummels.

Diamonds are rare and precious above all else on the 3rd rock from the sun. If you collect enough of them, you can get Hummers as well as Hummels.

Why would I want a Hummer when I can have a Zil?

Father Prog Theocritus wrote:Why would I want a Hummer when I can have a Zil?

I don't know, it's your money not mine, do want you want. A friendly suggestion though;
Do not mount bull horns on the Zil's hood, it may appear a little tacky.

Yes, a Maple Leaf would be preferable, perhaps one in blood red painted on the trunk.

Red Rooster wrote:Yes, a Maple Leaf would be preferable, perhaps one in blood red painted on the trunk.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xpcUxwp ... re=related

I am rendered speechless....