Friday, December 26, 2008

Dear Uncle Samta

Though I’ve been a good boy I’ve had a rough year. I need 15 billion dollars to fix my car. I fell behind in my mortgage 700 billion and I was supposed to help my brother out in New Orleans. I somehow got myself into two wars. One came at me and the other was just there. That was a while ago but you know how wars are, easy to start and hell to finish. I’m losing my job and healthcare coverage. I’ve got no public transportation, the gas station is half way around the world and everything in the supermarket is made of corn that’s made from petroleum. I should have gone green a long time ago but I thought I could handle the beard.

I’m frightened Uncle Samta. This is definitely beyond worry. Everything I was worried about happened only it was ten times worse than I thought it would be. And it’s not over. I don’t know if it will ever be.

I used to be a leader. Now I’m just the guy with the big car and the big dog who goes in other people’s yards. The stink is on me. It’s hard to see ahead when what’s right in front of me scares me. I need to take care of my family. Need to find my kids good schools and afford them some opportunity. The tropical rainforests might be disappearing but the jungle is thicker than ever. My wife and I wear different colors and can’t listen to the other’s radio. The only thing we have in common now besides the kids is the belief that the other is wrong.

I don’t even know what to ask for. I thought maybe more money but what’s the use of throwing paper into a firestorm? I’ll try to save some things but everyone will hate me before this is through and with good reason. This is my fault. If the buck could stop evaporating for a moment it would stop here. Still, my finger aches to point in every direction. I guess it is easier to be angry than to be scared so I guess I should go from there.

Dear Uncle Samta, bring me courage, compassion, tolerance, patience and vision. Remind me that I have been frightened before, broke before and still found the heart to tame bullies and help my neighbors in need. Hold me to my ideals in this time of crisis. Raise your expectations and harden your judgment as I move into this time of no easy.

Happy Holidays.

Sincerely,
Don Arrup
Satire1

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Bush Admits He Needed The Shoes

We don’t have a cobbler in the White House or at the ranch. And I try not to wear my cowboy boots at diplomatic functions. I have a lot of those. My valet, Leonard, is great. He’s kept the tops of my dress shoes looking brand new but those red carpets are like sandpaper. I put a piece of newspaper in the bottom. Folded up the editorial page of the New York Times with the Op-ed and I thought I was good for the day but I was through my socks before I got into the car to the press conference. So I pulled over the head of my Secret Service detail and said Chief, you’ve got dossiers on all these Iraqi journalists. Find out if any of them are wear a 9 1/2 AA shoe. Then check them out to see if they’re wearing black today and invite them to a private audience. Well, there were only two. One was a mullah or something with these I don’t know genie shoes, I guess. They were black and I like pointy toes but not curled up in the air. The other Iraqi citizen, the one in custody now, had on something that looked like shoes and they were black so I offered him a hundred dollars and an exclusive interview. I don’t know how much he paid for the shoes but they were obviously not new anymore. I thought it was a fair price. He accepted and we shook hands on it before we touched our feet. But when he took off his shoes it was like a bio-funk bomb exploded. I immediately turned away but even my hanker chef couldn’t save my eyes and nostrils from burning. The Secret Service guys tackled him and put his shoes back on. They deserve a medal for that. I apologized as best I could without breathing and gave him the hundred dollars and thanked him and promised to still grant the exclusive interview over the phone before I returned to the states.

Now, I can appreciate that his feelings were hurt. We all have feelings. We all know what that is like. And we all know very bad things can happen with shoes. I did my best to apologize and offered full compensation for the shoes I didn’t want. I thought he accepted my apology. It was hard to tell since by that point I couldn’t see clearly and my ears were ringing like Dick Cheney had shown me his gun collection. I’m not saying that what he did was right. I’m just saying that if when it comes to shoes there are different rules, ones that are not written down. They don’t differ culture to culture. They are understood or I should say misunderstood universally. Now the law can’t make a whole parallel set of circumstances for shoes. It’s not okay to kill your wife with your shoes. A dog maybe. And you can kill your dog because of your shoes. He chewed them up or disrespected them with his leg up. But the law is the law and I expect the Iraqis will dispense justice. I just feel sorry for whoever has to share a cell with him. I hope it’s a terrorist because those shoes will come off again and God help whoever is in that room.

Don Arrup
Satire1

Saturday, December 13, 2008

GM Goes Green (With Your Green)

Check out some the exciting new models as General Motors Corporation unleashes its new line of proposed vehicles to meet the demands of the increasingly environmentally aware Americans.

GMC Dracula uses the latest biotechnology to give us a sports car that runs on human blood. Available with driver and passenger I-Vs so you can fuel your car as you drive. GM promises that the Dracula Hybrid, which can run on any mammal’s blood, should be out by next year. Should reduce green house effects and the need for more wars more than any other vehicle.

Chevy Cobber runs on corn oil. Since corn now makes up almost half of America’s diet why not feed the car as well. This family car also allows kids to pop corn in the carburetor while you drive. Perfect for going to the drive in.

Mini Hummer is an environmentally friendly SUV that seats only one platoon or catholic family. While doubling the gas mileage of previous models it still retains the killer crusher power on impact with other vehicles. Hillbilly armor extra.

Pontiac Pisser runs on urine and features a built in motorman’s helper so you can whiz your way to work. Why piss all your money away on petroleum gasoline when all you need to go is to go.

Don Arrup
Satire1

Monday, December 1, 2008

Online Shoppers Express Trample Envy

From coast to coast shoppers killed clerks and each other in celebration of Black Friday the traditional start of the holiday shopping season.

“Nothing could be more American than clawing your way over injured bodies to save a few bucks,” said Milford Miff, second assistant mob manager at the Valley Stream Wal-Mart in Long Island where a holiday hire was trampled to death Friday. “Its all part of our company’s master plan. Refuse to sell anything made with a living wage. Impoverish the populace and then hire a few while addicting the rest to our sales. It’s a shame really that it was a young person. We would have much preferred it to be one of the Moms or Pops whose local store we closed.”

Fifteen miles to the east at the Farmingdale Wal-Mart shoppers trampled each other. One shopper sought medical treatment only after she finished shopping. “Let’s keep our priorities straight,” she was heard to say.

Meanwhile in California Toys “R” Us shoppers decided it was more efficient to shoot each other to get to the cashiers. “I saw the men pull the guns out,” said Elbow Clugg who was at the next cashier, “but I didn’t think anything of it. I mean it is a toy store.”

Staff Sergeant Wiley Rambol who has just recently returned from his third tour in Iraq wore his M-16 on shoulder as he shopped offered these thoughts. “I have been afraid to come out into public since returning to the states. After the relative calm of Baghdad, its really tough facing my fellow countrymen when there is a sale close to Christmas. I would have done all my shopping in Iraq but the instructions are in Arabic and their fruitcakes smell funny. My wife has been terribly worried about my safety since I’ve returned. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about with our three kids in school. She prays everyday that the kids will survive long enough to enlist so the government can send them someplace safe. What we need in this country is a surge to get things under control.”

After Friday’s news online shoppers began organizing “mall mauls” around the country so they would not be denied the full holiday experience. “We have people in every state directing Amazon and EBay shoppers to locations where they can fight over ridiculous toys and have the sort of punk rock pit experience that holiday shopping has become,” said Rob Crouch, online activist and former Hooters Santa. “Christmas is about outdoing your neighbor and for people who live in apartments and shop online there just isn’t any chance to rub anyone’s face in it.”

Don Arrup
Satire1