Prime the Pump

Our president plays fast and loose with the truth. It’s his calling card, and Americans have almost become accustomed to discounting the lies that spew from his ridiculously thin lips. 

One of the most amusing (for we have to be amused lest we slit our throats) lies he’s told is that he coined the term “prime the pump,” to be used in an economics context, telling a journalist from The Economist that he came up with the phrase. 

A quick google search of the term reveals that it’s been around at least since the early 1930’s, meaning one has to spend money to make money. 

In the 30’s, government money was lent to banks and industry in hopes that it would spur growth, and yes, trickle down to the little people. Whether it works or not is a moot point. Trump didn’t coin the freaking term.

So, did he lie or is he, the president, that damned ignorant? 

I’m thinking of coining a few phrases of my own. How’s this one: “holy crap we are being led by a freaking idiot!” I know, it’s a bit long and probably won’t catch on. But you never know.


We were so naive before the fall, having watched distant states dissolving from the safety of our

Shores. We sent thoughts, and prayers, and dollar bills, tsk tsking all the while. Nothing, though prepared us

For the shattering collapse, the heads rolling through the hallowed halls, their whispered names

On everybody’s lips. Perhaps those far flung states will reciprocate and send their thoughts, and prayers,

Coins of all the realms, as we resist the tide of tyranny with voices and with votes. Maybe it’s not too late.

Burn, Baby, Burn

Burn, Baby, Burn

by Leslie Noyes

There’s a fire out in the pasture, so sound the great alarm, it’s crackling down the corn rows, now threatening the barn.

We’d fight the fire with water, but the well dried long ago, now it’s too late to save the farm, and we’ve no place to go.

So hurry, save the chickens, the horses, and the rest, so they can perish another day when we fail the next big test.

Dire warnings were extended by experts in the know, but the idiots ignored them and allowed the fires to grow.

For profits’ sake we’ll pay the price, the ultimate tragic loss, while politicians fiddle a tune for their new greedy boss.

Note: I thought I had this scheduled to post on Earth Day. 

Lost in Time

Lost in Time

by Leslie Noyes

We scarcely notice the low-flying pterodactyls skimming inches above the trees nowadays.

Likewise, the roar of Tyrannosaurus Rex barely registers in our collective consciousness.

But we’ve begun to feel a change in the climate, colder winters, hotter summers, raging storms year ’round,

And the drums of war are heard pounding across oceans, and from our own great shores destruction rains down.

What have we lost in time? Our connections were severed when we fell through this warp in the universe.

Survival first, right? Despite the despot in the tree fort, we will carry on, only later to discover what we’ve lost.

Breath Mints and Poop Emojis

Wednesday mid-morning I was bumming around the house. Boredom set in. I knew that if I didn’t get out of the house as soon as possible I’d be reduced to watching crappy morning tv shows and snacking, neither of which are healthy hobbies.

So, I threw on a pair of denim capris and my favorite blue tshirt and headed to my go to boredom beating destination: Walmart. The best thing about Walmart is that you can have a good time even if you don’t spend a dime. That should be their slogan. Walmart: Have a Good Time Without Spending a Dime! Ok, I guess advertising isn’t my thing. 

Since I didn’t have anything in particular to shop for I wandered around in circles for awhile, picking up a new water dish for my cats, a couple of really cheap picture frames ($1.59 folks!), and some breath mints. Bitches never have enough breath mints. (I’ve been dying to type that phrase. I have no idea why.)

As usual Walmart had its amusing moments. Did you know that bean bag chairs in the shape of the šŸ’© (poop) emoji exist? Me neither! But look:

As bean bag chairs go, it was small. Child-sized. What kind of parent buys a poop emoji bean bag chair for their child? An awesome one, for sure.

As luck would have it I saw this hanging out beside the checkout line, right next to the small packages of Cheet-Os and Doritos. This made me giggle out loud.

Can’t you just picture Trump skulking around the White House in the middle of the night? He’s wielding a baseball bat as Ivanka cowers in fear behind him. 

“Are you sure you heard a noise,” he asks his beloved daughter/acting First Lady.

“Yes, father, it sounded like it was coming from the press room.”

The two peer into the murky space and what do they see? Big Bird and Elmo busily texting Putin. Yes, that’s why Trump really wants to defund NPR and PBS! Damned muppet spies! 

The fearless leader whacks both of them with the bat and Ivanka assists in removing all traces of their bloody deaths. Russian spies gone for good.

See, I told you Walmart is a great boredom beater! Now, go have an awesome day.

Peace, people!