PATRICK MCVAY

WRITER

My Musings

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Dead Senators

When I’m subpoenaed to testify before congress, as we all know is inevitable, my plan is to don a nice suit and come with prepared statements that I deliver with complete earnestness. But deep down in my heart I’ll be totally goofing on the senators interviewing me.

Because who can resist goofing on senators? Not even God can’t resist goofing on US senators.

Did you know that when US senators die they start making their way toward the gates of heaven, but instead of being greeted by a tipsy Saint Peter dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and drinking from a hollowed-out pineapple, they curiously find themselves alone in an old cemetery at dusk with the wind howling, a rusty old padlock securing the wrought iron gates?

What the heck! I wasn’t so bad, was I? What, just because I killed a gun bill or two? Or ten? That means I go to hell?

As darkness descends, pitchfork-wielding demons emerge, surrounding the dead senator. Before being fitted with a suit of flames, the old stodgy white male is brought to a podium, where he is forced to answer questions from an unrelenting British press.

But suddenly the lights come up, God struts out, and a studio audience applauds. It was all a joke. It turns out that God doesn’t send anyone to hell.

Sounds awesome, until you realize that this means that everyone you’ve ever met on earth is in heaven. Major design flaw!

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Who's Your Uncle?

Now that the US Military has dropped “The Mother of All Bombs” on ISIS in Afghanistan (without scratching a single innocent civilian!), and Russia claims to have “The Father of All Bombs,” I might as well admit that I’ve long been working on The Uncle of All Bombs.

My bomb is a balding old fuddy-duddy of a bomb, with a comb-over and yellowing teeth. It sometimes forgets to zip its fly and makes stupid jokes that causes adults to cringe and teenaged girls to throw up.

Is The Uncle of All Bombs going to dismember or liquidate people? Probably not. It mostly inflicts an emotional and psychological toll on its victims. But when people see my boring old tippler of bomb come stumbling its way across the sky at the end of a long day of drinking Lambrusco, hiccupping and belching, they’ll clear out of the area in short order.

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Wall Art

Did you get a chance to submit your design for the border wall between the US and Mexico? They were due April 4 to the Department of Homeland Security. I submitted mine. It’s a deceptively complicated plan, even more complicated than this teeter totter wall designed by Ronald Rael and Virginia San Fratello.

Another Interactive Wall

My wall is also going to be interactive as it calls for having lots of false doors built into it. And I don’t mean a door here or there; my wall will be nothing but doors, one right after the other, section after section, mile after mile, except that 99.99+% of the doors will open to reveal – you guessed it, a concrete wall. So when one of those bad hombres we’re always hearing about (or a child who is trying to escape gang conscription in his home country) comes upon this wall of doors and pulls on the handle, he is going to be momentarily thrilled when the door actually opens, then emotionally crushed when he sees that it's really a door to nowhere.

Is this art? You tell me. I think it is, and consequently submitted the design plan not just to Homeland Security, but also to the NEA. I was informed, however, that first of all if I’m going to use bad hombres and children escaping violence in my performance art/border wall, the door-pullers are technically performers and will need to be paid prevailing wages, and will also need to sign release forms. Secondly, given efforts to shut down the NEA, don’t count on them contributing to this art of mine.

Needless to say, if I’m going to go through all the trouble of release forms and prevailing wages, I’m going to want to make my wall design even artier. For example, I’ll put some revolving doors in my wall so that technically the bad hombres can step onto US soil (if you think of the border as razor thin, such that you can actually straddle it). Aha, but then they discover that there is no outlet to the American side's unforgiving desert wastelands! There will also be automatic doors like on The Starship Enterprise that open to reveal 2-foot thick concrete, and even some bifold doors like we all used to have as kids in the 1970s, which were constantly coming off their tracks. Who’s going to fix these when they come off their tracks? As far as I’m concerned that's Mexico’s problem.

Finally, somewhere in my wall of millions of doors, I’m going to secretly install a door, maybe two, that will actually open into the US. I can just imagine how shocking it will be for whomever is lucky enough to have opened the correct door and suddenly finds herself in America. I think we should leave a care package at the door, better yet have a personal valet waiting there to greet the visitor to our country, along with a lawyer, ready to help fill out immigration forms.

Just wait ‘til you see what I have planned for the US-Canada wall.

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What A Family

Sure, Neil Gorsuch may be known as a wildly intelligent jurist with a history of favoring corporations over individuals, but did you know that he is an expert wire-tapper and is known to have personally performed several abortions? What’s more, he has an unbelievably wonderful wife, which is not fake news at all as it came directly from the horse’s ass. Sorry, I mean mouth.

Additionally, his kids are just out of this world. They are absolutely stellar, absolutely stellar. Frankly you should wish you had a family half as tremendous as Neil Gorsuch’s. Did you know that he has an aunt who is just incredibly delightful? I mean she is not to be believed.

And then there are the riotously fantastic nieces and nephews, the inconceivably amazing cousins, the astonishingly magnificent half-siblings, and the marvelously breathtaking dog.

For whatever reason, the horse’s mouth didn’t mention the quality of the Gorsuch cat(s).

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