PATRICK MCVAY

WRITER

My Musings

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Unbelievably Bad

That phone call you and I had today? That was the worst. I mean it was a real stinker. I just wanted you to know that.

By the way, I’ve been hearing about this Eleanor Roosevelt, and I have to say, she’s doing a great job! This is what happens when people, women even! roll up their sleeves and get to work. And I think we should all be very very proud of that last sentence I just wrote. I know I am.

Look, we’re gonna do deals, believe me, so don’t get so uptight just because of a little snipe here or there via Twitter.

And by the way, I’d lose those shoes.

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Daily Lamentation

Have you a favorite lamentation? Personally, I enjoy Lamentations 2:10, where the elders gird themselves with sackcloth, which is still in great supply today. At this time of year, my friend Mark is always exhorting me to gird myself – specifically my loins – for the battle ahead, so that I may prevail against the enemy. Currently, the enemy is the Pittsburgh Steelers (or, as the Brits would say, are the Pittsburgh Steelers), and they themselves are busy girding loins left and right, possibly also with sackcloth.

Of course, I’m not involved in the battle, except that I’m watching with great interest.

This happens to be an excellent time in the history of our great nation for lamenting. Who doesn’t wake up these days and immediately think, For the love of Pete, look at everything there is to lament!?: our bee colonies are collapsing; you go to the mall to buy something you probably don’t need and someone decides to spray the place with bullets; the latest of the crazy North Korean dictators has the bomb and one of these days is bound to make an ICBM that won’t drop into the ocean. And worst of all, you have to look at that stupid haircut for the next four years.

I’m sure some of you would prefer not to lament, so you’re hoping the NFL games this weekend will provide sufficient escapism to take your mind off all the negative, but the fact is every few minutes you’re bound to wonder if you just witnessed someone’s brain being jostled inside his skull. Talk about a lamentation!

This is why I weep:
The enemy has prevailed
With a blow to the head
of a defenseless receiver.

I actually spent some time recently not lamenting when I saw Slim Jim and the Mad Cows do their country-fried rock thang (you gotta see them do The Immigrant Song). It was the perfect antidote to daily lamentations of girding with sackcloth. Maybe if I see more bands, the next four years will be less painful. It’s definitely something I’m willing to try.

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Intelligence I Don't Possess

Sorry that someone hacked into the laptop of your party's chairperson and released compromising data about her. Maybe that wouldn’t have happened if you had a better firewall and weren’t involved in a fringe party led by a psychotic blowhard. Accusing my intelligence operatives of the hacking just shows that you’re a ranting hysterical drunk who should be jailed. How do I know that we aren’t involved? I asked us and we told me that we aren’t.

Anyway, I have neither intelligence nor operatives who can provide it. Let me tell you, I was offered a huge deal for intelligence operatives, billions, lots of deals involved, Dubai, great guy that I was working with, good friend of mine, huge assets, great wife, a real beauty, and I said no. Because I don’t want to be spending my time having people hiding out in the woods hacking into your computers.

And anyway, it was probably the Chinese.

 

 

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Puckish

I recently was given access to proprietary algorithmic data suggesting that I don’t win quite as many of life’s puck battles as the mainstream media would have you believe.

You’re surprised. I know, a lot of people are. You can’t help but notice that I have just the right physique to win puck battles all over this great hemisphere of ours – the greatest hemisphere in the world! Let’s all stand up and sing God Bless Our Hemisphere.

OK back to my failure to win pucks. What’s it all mean? Well, it either means that I’ve gone soft, or the data is wrong. And if you ask me, the data is wrong. Maybe it wasn’t proprietary algorithmic data at all but just fake news. Maybe I do win my fair share of puck battles.

Makes you think.

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Trumpian Tweetage Haiku Continuum

 

False Accusations.

Women I don't know. FAKE NEWS!

Collusion. Russia.

 

Army Navy Game

COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF'S TROPHY

Congratulations

 

Pelosi/Schumer

He's bad on Crime, Life, Border.

Vets. Guns. VOTE ROY MOORE!

 

Time Magazine Called

Prob'ly "Person of the Year"

I took a pass. Thanks!

 

The Christmas Story

Mother, Father, Baby Son

Jesus Christ. Bahrain.

 

Matt Lauer just fired

When will top executives

Be fired for Fake News? 

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