This article is disqualified from the competition
The day started like any other, bloodshot eyes, the pounding headache, vague memories of Katherine and a pole, I just wanted to climb back in bed and sleep it all off but the neighbors’ continuous pounding on my bunker door and yelling for Mogambo Guru to please remove his damn car from their flower bed demanded an immediate response so I opened the door and let them have it with both barrels, getting up real close in their personal space so they could get the full effect of the stale stench of alcohol as I screamed in their startled faces “What’s with you people always telling Mogambo what to do?! I tell you all the time to buy gold, silver and oil to protect your nasty butts from the roaring inflation that is destined to destroy us all, brought on by the relentless printing, printing, printing of fiat currency by the foul Federal Reserve, aided and abetted by a treasonous Supreme Court who rewrote the Constitution nullifying the declaration that legal tender be only of gold or silver coin, and which of you morons has listened to me? Huh, which one? Just as I thought, morons!” Well, they started backing up slowly while frantically mashing 911 on their cell phones and soon I heard the familiar wail of sirens off in the distance. Not wanting to repeat last week’s regular “Mogambo Moment” with the local news station, which has reserved parking just across the street and has constant surveillance on the bunker, I mumbled “I’ll go get the keys”.
Back to the safety of the bunker and with a cup of strong coffee in hand I see Chuck Butler, over at DailyPfennig.com, states that the Butler Household Index (BHI) for June and the second quarter should print negative. Well, my family would certainly agree with the esteemed Mr. Butler as with the price of cucumbers rising from 59 cents to 99 cents each, in Two Freaking Months! (TFM), they certainly are NOT eating cucumbers anymore, let alone any kind of yummy beef, pork or poultry products which have also skyrocketed in price nearly 100 percent since this “year of recovery” started. No, they are eating gruel made from the spent barley I scavenged from the local brewery that they used crafting their oh so delicious weizen, and with the cost of fuel rising Every Freaking Day (EFD) they should be happy they get even THAT since I’m sure not going to pedal my lazy butt over to the brewpub for their freaking dinner! The cacophony of their pleas for real food is only outdone by the legions of dim witted Keynesian economists paraded non-stop on cable news proclaiming we’ll see a recovery in the second half of the year, the first half saw weather anomalies, you know, like I haven’t heard that line five years in a row, that, and their constant droning on and on about what a deceitful, lying father and husband I’ve been for the last, oh, 30 years or so, and if I cared at all about them I’d take them to the dentist so the pain would stop or at least buy some Anbesol instead of rushing right over to the coin dealer every payday, slapping down my fiat currency and demanding “Here’s my money, give me my metal”. So you can see the kind of crap I have to put up with around here all the time, I mean, what’s a guy to do? Pedal his happy butt over to the pub?
Robert Fitzwilson, founder of the Portola Group, talking with Eric King of KingWorldNews.com says there are rumors that the spending effects of the mandated Laissez Obamacaire, was removed from first quarter GDP so it can be added to the second quarter print, just in time for the mid-term elections. Sensing my opportunity for my fifteen minutes of fame, I raise my hand, jump to my feet and cry out in my Booming Loud Mogambo Voice (BLMV) “But Mr. Fitzwilson, what do these elected (insert plural, derogatory term here) care about mid-term elections? Our ballot boxes are stuffed fatter than a Christmas goose with election results more massaged than the ‘stupid CPI’, to quote again Mr. Butler.” Well, Mr. Fitzwilson was visibly upset when the spittle from my outburst landed on his very nice and expensive suit, but nonplussed, pointed to the attractive young reporter, who has been giving me that come-hither look since she entered the room, and asked “Did you have a question ma’am?” Miss Yumyum made the mistake of pausing to give me another sideways glance and so my hand shot up again and in my Booming Loud Mogambo Voice (BLMV) I pressed on with Mr. Fitzwilson by asking how he thought the spending effects would help the moronic democrats look good when according to the Butler Household Index (BHI) the second quarter GDP should be in the crapper, more so than the first quarter. Mr. Fitzwilson made that hand gesture I’m oh so familiar with and suddenly the brutes, who again, I’m oh so familiar with, started moving towards me in a menacing manner and with that wry grin they get on their faces every time they see the Get The Mogambo (GTM) signal. Making my way over to Miss Yumyum while feverishly scribbling my phone number on a soiled Taco Bell receipt, I was able to shove that in her hand and invite her to see my flower bed before she let her other hand slap the lascivious look off my face and let myself, and everyone else in the room, know that she was smiling at the taco sauce that had dribbled down the front of my shirt and she most certainly did NOT want my Hot Mogambo Breath (HMB) or Baby Blue Mogambo Eyes (BBME) anywhere near her, ew, the nerve of creepy old men! Just as I was about to let her reconsider by letting her get a good look at my Manly Mogambo Muscular Chest (MMMC), Butch and Dmitri were hauling my butt out the side door, “Hi Butch, hi Dmitri”, “Shut the hell up Mogambo, and get your damn car out of the flower bed!”
I’ll get my car out of the flower bed, but not because Butch and Dmitri politely asked me to, and not because I’m dejected that Miss Yumyum did not follow me out and beg for some Hot Mogambo Action (HMA) that she so desperately needs, no, not for either of those reasons, but for the reason that gold and silver are at fire sale prices and I’d better get over to IDC Coin and Bullion, pronto, where exchanging fiat dollars for real money is so easy I just have to say Whee!
My post-golfing snack of leftover tacos, a slice of
pizza, freezer-burned vanilla ice cream and the last beer in the fridge
was rudely interrupted the other day by the wife who had the audacity to
imply that I had somehow forgotten about our required attendance at that
evening’s family reunion. Of course I hadn’t! Forgetting implies that I
had retained the knowledge in the first place, which of course, I
hadn’t, being that I was using my post-beer intake remaining limited
brain cells scheming ways to obtain more gold, silver and oil, by hook
or by crook! I think it was Nixon who said, “I am not a crook!” But of
course, with typical lawyerly precision, he forgot to mention, “But
don’t forget about the hook part!” Ha ha ha!
But I digress, it was off to the family reunion,
where at least it was being held in a hall that had a bar attached,
meaning yours truly could demonstrate his best Federal Reserve
impression, imbibing as many beers as possible and skipping out the back
door before the bill comes due! Ha ha ha! Avoiding the family part of
the reunion, yours truly had settled in with yet another beer, eyes
fixated on the baseball game on the TV I was pretending to watch while
seething with anger over the treacherous Alan Greenspan and traitorous
Ben Bernanke and hoping one of the players would come up to bat with
“Greenspan” or “Bernanke” on the back of their jersey so I could roundly
boo them and get the bar patrons worked up to a frenzy, whereupon we
would storm the Federal Reserve, kick the bums out, hang a “Closed” sign
in the window, lock the door good and tight, throw away the key and call
it a day! And what a day that would be!
Once again I was rudely interrupted by the wife,
telling me “You can’t just sit in the bar the whole night, get out there
and talk to your family, you degenerate!” To which the proper retort
would have been, “But, honey, this is what bars are for, why would they
have one if avoiding family isn’t allowed?” But, alas, wanting to avoid
the couch for yet another night, yours truly ordered yet another beer
and paid the bartender, who didn’t seem to understand that he should
just put it on Greenspan or Bernanke’s tab, since they’ve done so much
damage to the country and it’s the least they could do.
Humdrumming my way out to the reunion, I snaked my
way past Uncle Mortie (“My gout is killing me!”) and Nephew Timmy (“This
door to door sales thing is really taking off, don’t get left behind!”)
and made the mistake of getting cornered by Cousin Charlie, ‘ol
“Conspiracy Theory Charlie,” as the rest of the family derisively refers
to him. Later, the wife would insist I “made a beeline” for old Charlie,
as she never fails to remind me, “Don’t talk to the crazy guy at the
family reunion, but most importantly, don’t BE the crazy guy at the
family reunion, telling everyone about how inflation will ruin us all!”
Another 4th of July has come and gone and has
anyone at all stopped to see and give me the accolades I richly deserve
for outlining the economic mess we are in? Has anyone dropped off a keg
for me ? No they are all off with their friends and family celebrating
together while I set alone and weep and opine the terrific, horrific ,
train wreck that has become the US economy.
While the criminals
.....criminals I tell you at the Federal Reserve continue to print more
and more of that toxic debt ridden paper that the unknowing completely
duped, Youtube viewing public refers to as money ....I alone am here
like "one crying in the wilderness" try to warn them all ....repent
....repent ....repent and spend (invest) that useless fiat, pastel with
blue lines stationary on the one thing that will save you.
I tell
them read the constitution Section 8 (no not the one you got from the
military you idiot)
Congress shall have the power to.......bla,
bla, bla
To coin Money, regulate the Value thereof, and of
foreign Coin, and fix the Standard of Weights and Measures;
To
provide for the Punishment of counterfeiting the Securities and current
Coin of the United States;
Well they haven't coined any real
money lately (Since 1964)and those traitorous counterfeiters at the
Federal Reserve are still running free.
So spread the word,
preach the good news.. buy Silver, silver, silver .....wow I'm smarter
that I thought I was !!!!