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Friday, 27 January 2017

image for My friend Jacko lands a job interviewing dead people who voted for Hillary Clinton
Interviewing ghosts isn't a job for the meek, but Jacko's made crazy and tough for the job.

Upon much hesitancy and bewilderment, I joined my friend and neighbor Jacko, who visited a few local graveyards yesterday for a new job he just started.

Jacko landed a job in the messy, stinking "Trump Dumpster" as an interviewer, investigator, and all-around spy of dead people who may have voted for Hillary Clinton in early November's Presidential election. He carried around a number of mechanisms used by paranormal investigators who communicate with the dead.

He spent what is for him, a fortune, on some of the most sophisticated mechanisms used by ghost hunters, including a Paranormal Proximity Detector, a a GHOSTPRO Night Vision HD Camera, a Duel Frequency Sweep Spirit EVP Box, a 16 MP Spectrum Over-Cam, a Handheld Thermometer Gun with a Laser Sight, a Ghost EVP recorder 8GB paranormal hunting/investigation machine, a P-SB7 Spirit Box with DAS108 Bluetooth Orbital Speaker & Bluetooth Transmitter. a YES / NO GHOST ANALYZER EMF Detector Meter, an Andoer KRQ1431940515999D2 Waterproof Sport Mini DV Action Camera, complete with a 90° Wide Angle Lens, a Lightdow LD4000 1080P HD Sports Action Camera Bundle with DSP:NT96650 Chip, and a BLEMISHED P-SB11 PSB11 Dual Frequency Sweep Paranormal Spirit EVP Ghost Box - just to name a few of the electronic machines.

"Where did you get the money to get this stuff?" I asked him, as he took out all his gadgets from a mountain-climber's backpack. Carefully taking out all of this brand new equipment and laying them in a neat row on a large mausoleum, he shook a bit in chilliness. It was a cold day, in the low 30's, and it was beginning to snow lightly. It would have been refreshing, maybe, even uplifting, if we weren't standing in a country boneyard with a slew of corpses and skeletons buried right under us as we moved around.

He looked at me blankly and answered: "Delilah. She wasn't too happy about floating me a loan for this, but she was all for the fact that I got a job investigating and interviewing dead people to see if they voted for Hillary Clinton."

"That's ridiculous."

"Well, that KKK guy he has as his right-hand man, Bannon or whatever he calls himself, tells us only to listen to President Trump. According to some gonzo reports and tweets coming from The Great & Glorious Orange One and that batshit crazy voting base of his, there might have even been dead people voting. Corpses, skeletons, and such....So if the Gropenfuher says that millions of dead people voted illegally, well, let's just cut to the chase and say that I believe this wholeheartedly," Jacko snipped.

"Delilah certainly is good to you," I said.

"She's a witch. A real dragonlady. How could she not be impressed? It's a government job and I have a super-duper security clearance to get into these boneyards. I make six-fifty an hour. I'll pay the old girl back someday. Even though the 'help wanted' ad in the thrifty shopper newspaper mentioned that this gig was 'temporary' - well, President Donald John Trump claims between three-to-five million people voted illegally, and each and every one of them voted for Hillary....So it's going to take some time to ferret out all these bottom-feeding weasels. I might be able to keep this job for years. Maybe for over a decade."

Delilah is Jacko's estranged girlfriend. She gave her beau the heave-ho when he showed himself to be a lazy, good-for-nothing hophead and wino. Delilah now lives several states away from Jacko and she feels safe having a number of state lines separating them both, geographically speaking. Delilah moved to Florida in the hopes of landing a job making machine guns in a factory there. Things didn't work out, but hey, Delilah put her high-level Chauffer's License to work and landed a job driving a city bus in Orlando.

Jacko grabbed some kind of gizmo that supposedly records the voices of ghosts. He began asking questions as he ambled around the boneyard, an overgrown and unkempt rural pasture that has residents who are very reticent and invisible. Some of the tombstones indicated some buried six-feet-under served with either the Union and the Confederacy in the Civil War. The war vets in this particular cemetery had VFW-issued bronze flag holders to honor them. A slew of them were perched near the old, weathered stones. Worthless lowlifes sometimes steal these flag holders and try to sell them to junk dealers and pawn shops. Thankfully, most of the owners of these types of businesses report these miscreants to the police, though.

"Okay ghosts, who among you voted for Hillary Clinton? Tell me now, you cowards and creeps. I know a few of you floated out of here in November and went to the local voting-day precinct to vote for that dastardly Democrat."

He looked down at the machine, which had a little meter needle on it. If the needle wiggled around, it meant a ghost was speaking. The little gizmo, about the size one of those fancy and sophisticated cell phones, would collect the evidence required for a report that Jacko would later fill out, exposing these long-dead fraudulent felons for voting illegally.

Walking up another row of tombstones, Jacko began communicating with the cemetery's dead residents in a more aggressive and nasty way. "Speak up, fools! I know some of you bastards slipped out of your coffins and voted illegally. We've got a graveyard down there near Gitmo where we're shipping your dead asses. Speak up, speak up, or forever hold your peace!" he yelled.

I wanted to laugh but held it all in. Jacko landed a job, and as a friend, I was happy for him. And he grabbed a job he could do, and he was pretty much a personality type that 'Does Not Play Well With Others' so how much real harm could he do asking questions of nobody and no one, among the trees and rocks dotting a pasture in the countryside?

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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