BILLINGSGATE POST: Elmer Smuckmeister, the conscience of Beaver Crossing, Nebraska, thought he had seen it all. A rector in the Beaver Crossing Unity Church, Elmer was not perfect. To the contrary: Just lately, during a snow storm, he had dressed up as an eight-foot snowman and gone window peeping, hoping to sneak a peek into the second story bedroom window of Widow Jackson, who had pursed her lips at him provocatively at the church’s ice cream social Sunday night.
He understood how power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. So when he heard that Governor Cuomo was using his position to try to get into the Skivvies of his female staff members, he was incensed. He remembered vividly how his prize Hereford bull, Zeke, had his way with his innocent heifers.
Smuckmeister could take it no more: “Put a saddle on that jackass and ride him outa here,” he screams at no one, but everyone that could hear him in Beaver Crossing.
What also grated his ass raw was seeing Joe Biden squint his eyes, then furtively sneak-up from behind on some naive maiden, and then, with a senile grin befitting a man twice his age, put his mitts on her shoulders and press his patrician beak into her hairdo; all this without a raised eyebrow from the pimps who call him their savior. How many coiffures had this man befouled in his political career? Just collateral damage in Washington, it appears.
Dr. Slim: “They ruined a perfect horse’s ass when they put teeth in Biden’s mouth.”
Dirty: “Yo, Doctor. Divine Providence at work, once again.”