He carries with him a bowl containing four ritual ingredients:
Whole Milk
Sweetened Condensed Milk
Vanilla Extract
Sugar.
    He sets the bowl on the altar, jumps in and tells the Rabbi:
                  “Today I Am a Flan!”

IGNORAMUS  [ ig-nuh–rey-muhs, –ram–uhs ]
Noun, plural  ig-no-ra-mus-es.

1.  An extremely ignorant person.
2. A person so paralyzed by fear and devoid of self-esteem they continue to identify with and support an adolescent, misogynistic, sociopathic and egomaniacal ex-president with the world’s worst comb-over.

    Hey, I don’t make this stuff up; I just report the news, Like Fox!

“Saint Patrick’s Day, or the Feast of Saint Patrick, is a cultural and religious celebration held on 17 March, the traditional death date of St. Patrick, the foremost patron saint of Ireland.”  That’s what Wikepedia says and it’s on the internet so it must be true.
So Happy Day to all my Irish Friends and as they say in the old country, “There goes Erin’s Bra!”

Hey Wild Bill:  Calm down. Nobody wants to take your guns away.  We know how important a big gun is to you, compensating for the lack of size in one of your organs (Of course I am referring to your brain).  The right to bear arms is constitutionally protected so let’s honor it in the spirit it was written.  You may own a Blunderbuss and as many muskets as your little…heart desires.

Originally there was no reason to fear March 15th, the 74th day of the Roman calendar.  It was simply the traditional date to settle all debts.  It took a sinister turn in 44 BC when the Roman dictator (emphasis on the “Dick”) Julius Caesar was assassinated.  In this country when the leader is a dick we don’t do him physical harm but mete out a much crueler form of justice.  We exile them to Florida.

You might get away with denying climate change, election results and, well, science in general, but you must accept the fact that the Greek letter Pi represents a constant in math regarding the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter.  Pi is approximately 3.14159265359 and is shortened to 3.14. 
(Get it Einstein? 3/14, March 14th?).   
And although celebrated by our revered math and science nerds everywhere, consumer culture has morphed the celebration of mathematics into a reason to increase revenue by discounting pies, both fruit and pizza.
How cool is that?

While the Fake news media (aka Fox) has reported that the pandemic originated in China, new startling evidence has been uncovered pinpointing the actual date of the first recorded death in the Spring of 1967. 
     The story mixes science and mystery;  intrigue worthy of an Erik Larson novel.  It seems that on June 3rd in 1966, one year prior to the Covid-related death,  the body of Billy Joe MacAllister was found floating beneath the Tallahatchie Bridge.  Initial investigation hypothesized that Billy Joe jumped of his own free will.  But that changed when neighbors reported strange behavior from “Sister.”   Police suspected foul play and refocused the investigation on finding out why Sister spent almost an entire year on  Choctaw Ridge, suspiciously dropping flowers into the muddy waters off the Tallahatchie Bridge.  Nothing was ever proven and charges were never filed.
    Fast forward from Billy Joe’s untimely death to one year later when another series of ominous events had taken place, Aside from Sister’s strange behavior, Brother married Becky Thompson and bought a store in Tupelo.  At the same time there was a virus going ’round, Papa caught it and he died last spring. The virus, identified through modern DNA testing was, in fact, Covid.   Beyond a shadow of a doubt Papa was the first recorded death by the Covid virus.  Mama may have also contracted the virus even though she did not display common symptoms. Concerning to Virologists was her uncharacteristic behavior as Mama didn’t seem to want to do anything.  Mama, however, has been seen keeping company with that nice, young preacher Brother Taylor who has been a frequent dinner guest since Papa died.

     

I inhale deeply, enjoying the intoxicating scent of an imminent indictment wafting from the northern halls of justice.  It is a heady mixture of lavender, mint and a hint of karma; just what is needed to eliminate the stench of festering waste rising from Palm Beach, Florida.

An Amertican Treasure, actor Ned Beatty is 83 years old and retired.  But he will never be forgotten.  You know him from his iconic portrayal of “Bobby” in the 1972 blockbuster film “Deliverance” that celebrated both male bonding and the deep south, where homo-eroticism, natural beauty and multi-generational inbreeding are blended seamlessly and taught in schools as “Biology 101.”

Ahhh, to be back on the banks of the Cahulawassee River, an idyllic setting accented with the postcard-worthy picture of Bobby bent over a tree stump with his pants down around his knees. Please Ned, one more time for all your fans and for posterity: “Squeal like a pig!”

“In order to succeed we must have the courage to fail and try again” and know someone with more money than sense to finance the thing.