Sunday, May 28, 2017

14 Steps For Totally Nailing The Trump Handshake

Rounding out this Memorial Day Weekend's Blogfest Spectacular are a few thoughts, an entire post even, on the infamous Trump Handshake.

Oh god.

Indeed, the obsession with something so benign and superficial is vomit-worthy. But try as I might, it was unavoidable. I felt it necessary to select a topic and stick with it. So Trump Handshake it is.

But why? Aren't there more important things a-brewing in the Geo-Politic? I mean, Jesus. Must we forever be inundated with such trivial, knee-jerk nonsense from every corner of the Flat-Earth?

Yes. Yes we must. Because, you see my children, every good narrative from the dawn of time begins with and revolves around body language. From Joseph of Arimathea to Alexander Great to Richard Nixon to George Pompeii to Hitler to Charlie Sheen, no good yarn can possibly be spun around a center with no actor; someone who understands the art of gesticulation enough to control the illusion in his, or her, favor.


You must understand that body language is an essential aspect of world leadership. To be in that exclusive club, you must first and foremost be able to protect yourself from unwanted negativity. Perception is KEY to everything you do, and a cold, sweaty-palmed, wimpy exchange is no way to show your rivals that you're the boss.

Because you are.

No, really, you are. You are the boss. Your handshake is firm and strong and dominant and supremely masculine, much like your cologne. Unlike the stench of fake news, your handshake resembles the truth. The BEST truth possible. And NO ONE, not even The failing new york times, can take that away from you.

Asserting your supremacy in and of the moment is how you got here, Champ. They can say what they will, but you will never be convinced of anything less than your own special glow. You outshine everyone, tiger, and and we all know why.

The Handshake.

The Trump Handshake.

Those in the fake news media will "analyze" your handshake to death, and good for them. No, you know what? Fuck them. They know not the power of ketchup on an overdone steak.

You are and have always been The Boss.

Why must we spend time pouring over data and documents and information? Why we we ever exercise discretion when the moment "demands" it?

We must keep our colleagues, our sycophants and our acolytes (all losers) in an ever-traumatizing, alternating state of adoration and fear. Letting our guard down is not acceptable.

After all, we seem to be on some kind of really big stage here.

Steps for a good Trump Handshake include:

1. Being Super Awesome.

2. Being, like, two-feet taller than everyone in the room, because I am.

3. Having a History of Success. "You WANT a deal? I AM the DEAL."

4. Having Super Awesome, Large Big-Time Hands.

5. Stiff, Calculated Approach to Your Opponent/Loser, Phony Smile in Tow. (The Phonier, The Better).

6. Half-Hearted Arm Extension--Keep it close the chest, buddy. Make them come to you.

7. Thinking About Your Super-Huge, Tremendous Penis (And How Much You Love Minorities).

8.Strong, Robotic Grip. (Like the Terminator, only more bone-crushing).

9. Hold.

10. Hold.

11. Hold.

12. Look Deep In Their Eyes. Understand Nothing. Mistake the Awkwardness of the Situation for Fear of and Respect for Your Very Giant Penis.

13. Hold.

14. Hold.

15. Ok. You're a Man Again. Your Penis is Huge. Just Ask Melania. Let Go Slowly. Pat Fellow World Leader/Opponent/Loser on the Back.

16. Go Home and Tweet About Fake News Analysis.

Now that you know how to deliver the perfect Trump Handshake. you can try it at home! Be sure to stare at a picture of your father first. You want to be sure that you're making him sufficiently proud.

re ipsa loquitur,


Next Time---Taking care of deals are done when you're out of collateral and no one will lend money to you (except Russian Oligarchs, of course).

Saturday, May 27, 2017

So, Like a Dipshit...(How to Cure Boredom)

So there I was, staring blankly into the bottom of a beer bottle. not really pondering anything.

Life wasn't great. It could have been better. But I didn't have anything demanding my immediate attention. No action was needed on anything. Freedom, however miserable, still seemed like freedom.

I didn't have to ponder anything, so, I didn't. Everything was pretty open-ended.

But as things often do, the situation changed. I was no longer engulfed in the serene emptiness of a Zen-like state. I began to THINK. It filled up the emptiness, til the emptiness was no more.

So, like a dipshit, I got up, attempting to occupy myself with something in the tangible, visceral universe. Perhaps that would stir the thought out of my head. And the thoughts were very random, too, very chaotic and disjointed. There was no beginning or end, just whole lots of middle. Trying to organize them in chronological order, or in any reasonable way at all, was futile.

So, like a dipshit, I decided to go ahead and give this parenting thing a try.

Perhaps the care, attention and worry that must so endlessly be given to another human being, my own spawn, would help me to make sense of the THINK.

At the very least, it might help me to re-focus my attention on something else, so as to better pretend I wasn't engaged in thought at all.

So, like a dipshit, I found someone else to agree to help me give this parenting thing a try. Who knows? Maybe they would be able to get something out of it as well...

9-10 months later, my, OUR, spawn was spawned. Set forth into the universe to disrupt; to create a kicking, screaming, hair-pulling ripple in the fabric of space-time, for all time.

As my, OUR, spawn continued to grow, both in strength and in cleverness, it's very existence began to threaten ours. Constantly accumulating more power, its burgeoning disregard for life, limb and the pursuit of happyness presented us with a considerable challenge, destroying the myths of compassion and reason we once held as the basis, the foundation, of a functioning civilization.

So, like a dipshit, I continued to pump love, food and money into our spawn daily. I refused to accept that Satan occupied the second bedroom of my newly refurbished basement, or that The Morning Star was not a star at all, but rather a bloodthirsty, inhuman terror-packed nightmare ready to pounce on and consume me in my sleep. All it needed was the right moment to strike...

So, like a dipshit, I waited. And I waited, and waited and waited and waited, until finally...

Like a Dipshit, I woke from my trance, finding myself staring into the bottom of an empty beer bottle. I was enjoying the illusion of freedom once more. No THINK anywhere.



Next Time---I attempt to explain political correctness without offending the reader.

Friday, May 26, 2017

What About The Children?

As it turns out, you really need a focused topic before you start writing a blog.

Otherwise, your blog goes to shit fast, as in digestive priority numero uno. You ramble, you write in broken sentences and draw connections that really go nowhere. You just keep drawing. The whole stream-of-consciousness thing doesn't really work in this format.

There are thousands, probably millions, probably quadjatrillyabillions of blogs out there. And there is certainly no end to the number of platforms that give those people voices.

Yes, you are right. Not everyone is a writer. I'm certainly NOT a writer, though I sometimes pretend that I'm dreaming about playing an aspiring word jockey on the picture shows.

So, there you have it. This is my epiphany for the day. Pick a topic BEFORE you start writing your Goddam (or is it Goddamn?) blog. If I had known or grasped that simple concept a few short 10-15 years ago, I may be putting off writing a blog somewhere else. AS I SPEAK. I could be wasting time and energy and self-pity in a whole new setting ENTIRELY, wondering just how lucrative or beneficial or something something it may be to start WRITING A FUCKING BLOG.

But enough about that. Because, as you see, I'm already trailing off on a nonsensical tangent (redundant?), even when I have a Goddamed (Goddamned?) topic/focus in mind.

I digress. It is important to have something coherent to write about BEFORE you start writing, lest you end up in nowheresville doing needless damage to a keyboard wondering why it never works out for you.

And that leads me to my next point, and perhaps the most important question ever posed by man: What About The Children?

Well, if you fail to have an idea or topic in mind before you start blogging, then you've basically rendered yourself COMPLETELY useless. And when that happens, what kind of role model could you possibly be to your children?

In other words, if you are aimless, your writing will most likely be crap (unless you're SUPER talented), which will ultimately lead to years of absolutely no recognition whatsoever. You'll stew and mope and wonder what you're doing wrong as your writing "career" is fledgling, gasping for air. You'll become bitter and angry and paranoid and depressed and convinced the whole world is against you, you fucking loser you.

All your dreams seem to have crash landed into a brick wall; you have a front-row seat to the gaping hole that represents your life, destiny and demise.

And those kids you somehow procreated? Those mini versions of yourself that should be making you happy and filling your heart with ooey-gooey luv at the center of your very existence? Well, let's just say your self-centered misery and rot isn't doing THEM much good now, is it?

So next time you want to blog, STOP. THINK. EVALUATE.

Do you REALLY have an idea to write on, share your wisdom of? Gather followers with? Fill your soul with accomplishment, er, uh, with? Prove your self-worth and exude self-confidence and insight...(with)?

And, most importantly...What About the Children, you scaggy scummy villany pathetic excremental no-talent fail?

Think about it next time. That's all I'm saying.

I've learnt my lesson. Now it's your turn.

re ipsa loquitur


Up Next Time--An all new rave about something amazing Donald Trumpo had done gone and done, again ( Obviously in the name of Making America Greater Than It Never Was...I CAN'T WAIT!)...stay tuned