Duffy Prendergast's Blog: Mars day 1, page 3
November 11, 2014
Mars day 22: Better Red than Dead
“Sir, we have a crisis!”
What is it Ablo? Can’t you see that Miss Monicolointzgee and I are in the middle of an important discussion?
“Yes sir, I see her talking into the microphone. But this is serious. The Reds have invaded Afar.”
But Ablo, the Reds live here…with us.
“Yes, but their people come from the country of Cepii. Cepii has invaded Afar. Should we call on our allies and threaten them will diar consequences if they do not withdraw? Should we put our many warships on alert and let them feel the presence of our might? What are your orders?”
Tell them that they better back off.
“Is that all?”
You don’t think that will do the trick?
“Sir, Cepii has a history of being quite brutal. They are not as strong as they once were, but they have done this sort of thing before. They will not go away quietly.”
Tell them to go home or else they’re going to make us really mad! Really mad Ablo.”
“That’s it sir…we’ll be really mad?”
And tell them we mean it!
“Yes sir. That ought to scare them the Gore out of them sir.”
Do you think so Ablo?
Coming from you sir, how could they not be trembling in their boots sir. After all…you did bomb an aspirin factory.
What is it Ablo? Can’t you see that Miss Monicolointzgee and I are in the middle of an important discussion?
“Yes sir, I see her talking into the microphone. But this is serious. The Reds have invaded Afar.”
But Ablo, the Reds live here…with us.
“Yes, but their people come from the country of Cepii. Cepii has invaded Afar. Should we call on our allies and threaten them will diar consequences if they do not withdraw? Should we put our many warships on alert and let them feel the presence of our might? What are your orders?”
Tell them that they better back off.
“Is that all?”
You don’t think that will do the trick?
“Sir, Cepii has a history of being quite brutal. They are not as strong as they once were, but they have done this sort of thing before. They will not go away quietly.”
Tell them to go home or else they’re going to make us really mad! Really mad Ablo.”
“That’s it sir…we’ll be really mad?”
And tell them we mean it!
“Yes sir. That ought to scare them the Gore out of them sir.”
Do you think so Ablo?
Coming from you sir, how could they not be trembling in their boots sir. After all…you did bomb an aspirin factory.
Mars Day 23: The Frozen Tundra
Ablo, why did you bring me here to the frozen tundra?
“It’s the boarder sir.”
I can see that Ablo. It’s got a long fence and big red and white signs posted everywhere. But why did you…wait…what’s that scurrying under the fence? I think it was a large rodent!
“Where sir? Oh, over there by the snow drifts, yes sir, that’s a—“
Look Ablo…it’s running. And look…over there…Ablo, there must be dozens of them crawling under the fence. And look, over there. Why Ablo, we’ve got an infestation problem! We need to hire an exterminator!”
“Sir, we already have them. Their called border patrol agents.”
Oh.
“The reason I brought you here is just that. You see, we have a bit of an illegal immigration problem.”
You don’t need me for this Ablo. Set some traps! Put out some poisonous bait! Call Orkin!
“We can’t do that sir. They’re people.”
People?
“Yes sir, they’re the Afarians.”
How bad is it Ablo?
“Pretty bad sir. I wouldn’t mention it except that with the Cepii invasion of Afar, it is growing worse. We have over eleven million illegals in the country now sir.”
You had me going there for a moment. You really had me Ablo! Who knew that you were such a joker? I find the Blues to be a quite agreeable people. Let them be Ablo.
“I agree with you sir, I’m Blue myself.”
Ah, so you are. Then what’s the problem Ablo?
“Well sir, I waited for two years to get into this country. I had to prove that I wasn’t a terrorist before they let me in. I had to show that I would be an asset to the country. I needed a legal sponsor to assure assimilation and to give me the support I needed until I could be on my own. These people that are coming over the border could be terrorists. The smugglers could be mixing terrorists in with the Afarians so they will go unnoticed. Once they enter our country they will be privy to government subsistence, and a free education and they will work under the table undermining our labor market.”
I’ve got an idea Ablo, we’ll make them all citizens. Immediately! That will solve everything. If they’re legal…then they won’t need to be exterminated. That will make me very popular…an instant voting pool. And their families will love me and they will vote for me. I’ll lock up the blue vote altogether!
“But then they will be eligible for social security benefits without paying into the system. It’s already in trouble as it is.
Oh, Ablo, who cares…we’ll just keep raising the age of eligibility so than nobody collects it.
“They’ll also collect food stamps and welfare payments. They’ll get free medical attention. It will burden our struggling economy sir.”
Think of the votes Ablo. It’s worth it to me.
“But sir—“
Let my people go!
“They’re not your people sir.”
What if I say it with a Blue accent. Let my people go.
“This is serious sir. Look, that one’s carrying a pound of cocaine. And that one has a bomb.”
Once you go blue…you’ll vote for me too!
“I liked your idea about setting traps better…sir.”
“It’s the boarder sir.”
I can see that Ablo. It’s got a long fence and big red and white signs posted everywhere. But why did you…wait…what’s that scurrying under the fence? I think it was a large rodent!
“Where sir? Oh, over there by the snow drifts, yes sir, that’s a—“
Look Ablo…it’s running. And look…over there…Ablo, there must be dozens of them crawling under the fence. And look, over there. Why Ablo, we’ve got an infestation problem! We need to hire an exterminator!”
“Sir, we already have them. Their called border patrol agents.”
Oh.
“The reason I brought you here is just that. You see, we have a bit of an illegal immigration problem.”
You don’t need me for this Ablo. Set some traps! Put out some poisonous bait! Call Orkin!
“We can’t do that sir. They’re people.”
People?
“Yes sir, they’re the Afarians.”
How bad is it Ablo?
“Pretty bad sir. I wouldn’t mention it except that with the Cepii invasion of Afar, it is growing worse. We have over eleven million illegals in the country now sir.”
You had me going there for a moment. You really had me Ablo! Who knew that you were such a joker? I find the Blues to be a quite agreeable people. Let them be Ablo.
“I agree with you sir, I’m Blue myself.”
Ah, so you are. Then what’s the problem Ablo?
“Well sir, I waited for two years to get into this country. I had to prove that I wasn’t a terrorist before they let me in. I had to show that I would be an asset to the country. I needed a legal sponsor to assure assimilation and to give me the support I needed until I could be on my own. These people that are coming over the border could be terrorists. The smugglers could be mixing terrorists in with the Afarians so they will go unnoticed. Once they enter our country they will be privy to government subsistence, and a free education and they will work under the table undermining our labor market.”
I’ve got an idea Ablo, we’ll make them all citizens. Immediately! That will solve everything. If they’re legal…then they won’t need to be exterminated. That will make me very popular…an instant voting pool. And their families will love me and they will vote for me. I’ll lock up the blue vote altogether!
“But then they will be eligible for social security benefits without paying into the system. It’s already in trouble as it is.
Oh, Ablo, who cares…we’ll just keep raising the age of eligibility so than nobody collects it.
“They’ll also collect food stamps and welfare payments. They’ll get free medical attention. It will burden our struggling economy sir.”
Think of the votes Ablo. It’s worth it to me.
“But sir—“
Let my people go!
“They’re not your people sir.”
What if I say it with a Blue accent. Let my people go.
“This is serious sir. Look, that one’s carrying a pound of cocaine. And that one has a bomb.”
Once you go blue…you’ll vote for me too!
“I liked your idea about setting traps better…sir.”
Mars Day 24: The Gate-keeper
Bad news Ablo. I have an opponent.
“Who would dare to challenge you for supreme leader sir?”
A Green named Illariah. What am I going to do Ablo? My sham democracy is crashing down on upon me.
“We could smear her. Call her a slut!”
How can we do that? We’ve got the whole planet on a mission to fornicate and procreate. Calling her a slut would be a compliment.
“We could accuse her of using little rubber things during intercourse.”
That’s not enough Ablo. We need something ugly. Something with sharp teeth.
“You want to sick Nancy Pelosi on her?”
No Ablo, I was using metaphors. But you might just have something there. We need to sick the dogs on her.
“Michelle Obama and Hillary Clinton?”
Ablo, you’ve named three people who are hard at work doing the same thing to my country as we’re doing here on Mars…but they’re not the answer. We need to impugn this Illariah’s character. Does she obey the law? Does she eat potatoes? Does she pay her taxes?
“She can put away a lot of potatoes, so that’s out. I haven’t slept with her, so I don't know about the little rubber things, and don’t even think it! And the only way to find out if she pays her taxes is to sick the auditors after her.”
You’re brilliant Ablo. We’ll do just that! We’ll shove the tax man so far up her Gore-maker that if she so much as lost a receipt she’ll be labeled a letch!
“Is that legal sir.”
Who cares? We’ll sick the auditors after her entire party! We’ll have them so scared that they’ll run for the hills. And we’ll use some loyal auditors who will be willing to sink with the ship for our cause. And the worst case scenario, they’ll name a gate after us.
“A gate sir?”
Yes, Ablo, where I come from, if you do something awful and stage a monumental cover-up, you get a gate named after you. We had Water-Gate, we had White-water-gate. We even had Contra-gate and Chad-gate!
“Sounds like having a gate named after you is more significant than having a monument built for you.”
If she doesn’t eat potatoes we can call it Tater-gate.
“Very catchy sir.”
If she uses little rubber things…we can call it Rubber-gate.
“That seems a bit tacky sir.”
How about Tax-gate?
“Or maybe illegal-appropriation-of-government-henchmen-gate?”
Really, Ablo?
“What?”
Really?
“What sir?”
I don’t think you’re catching on to the poetic significance of the Gate here Ablo.
“Who would dare to challenge you for supreme leader sir?”
A Green named Illariah. What am I going to do Ablo? My sham democracy is crashing down on upon me.
“We could smear her. Call her a slut!”
How can we do that? We’ve got the whole planet on a mission to fornicate and procreate. Calling her a slut would be a compliment.
“We could accuse her of using little rubber things during intercourse.”
That’s not enough Ablo. We need something ugly. Something with sharp teeth.
“You want to sick Nancy Pelosi on her?”
No Ablo, I was using metaphors. But you might just have something there. We need to sick the dogs on her.
“Michelle Obama and Hillary Clinton?”
Ablo, you’ve named three people who are hard at work doing the same thing to my country as we’re doing here on Mars…but they’re not the answer. We need to impugn this Illariah’s character. Does she obey the law? Does she eat potatoes? Does she pay her taxes?
“She can put away a lot of potatoes, so that’s out. I haven’t slept with her, so I don't know about the little rubber things, and don’t even think it! And the only way to find out if she pays her taxes is to sick the auditors after her.”
You’re brilliant Ablo. We’ll do just that! We’ll shove the tax man so far up her Gore-maker that if she so much as lost a receipt she’ll be labeled a letch!
“Is that legal sir.”
Who cares? We’ll sick the auditors after her entire party! We’ll have them so scared that they’ll run for the hills. And we’ll use some loyal auditors who will be willing to sink with the ship for our cause. And the worst case scenario, they’ll name a gate after us.
“A gate sir?”
Yes, Ablo, where I come from, if you do something awful and stage a monumental cover-up, you get a gate named after you. We had Water-Gate, we had White-water-gate. We even had Contra-gate and Chad-gate!
“Sounds like having a gate named after you is more significant than having a monument built for you.”
If she doesn’t eat potatoes we can call it Tater-gate.
“Very catchy sir.”
If she uses little rubber things…we can call it Rubber-gate.
“That seems a bit tacky sir.”
How about Tax-gate?
“Or maybe illegal-appropriation-of-government-henchmen-gate?”
Really, Ablo?
“What?”
Really?
“What sir?”
I don’t think you’re catching on to the poetic significance of the Gate here Ablo.
Mars Day 25: Spring ahead...Not!
What time do you have Ablo?
“It’s two o’clock sir.”
MY watch says one o’clock.
“I’ll reset mine sir. Yours can’t be wrong…you’re a politician. There…one o’clock.”
No wait Ablo, the clock on the wall says three o’clock.
“That’s because they never changed it since the last daylight savings time sir.”
But today we’re supposed to move our clocks ahead an hour. I think its two o’clock, but it’s actually three o’clock because of the whole fall-back spring-forward thing.
“I’ll reset my clock to three am.”
Bartender, can we have a couple more beers here?”
“I’m sorry, but the bar is closed…it’s three o’clock.”
But it was just two o’clock a minute ago. It can’t be three o’clock already…now give us a couple of beers.
“But sir…I can’t serve alcohol after two-thirty. It’s against the law.”
Well if it was just two o’clock, it can’t be three o’clock all of a sudden. We can’t just skip last call.
“I’m sorry sir but I can lose my liquor license if I serve you.”
“Even if you’re right…there must be some law against skipping last call. You can’t just skip something as important as last call! Now give us a beer.
“Yes sir. Here are a couple of cold beers.”
Arrrrgh! Spit! Blah.! That’s terrible stuff! What is that swill he served us Ablo?
“It’s root beer sir. Shall I have him shot sir? Or worse…I’ll have him deported to Afar!”
Those are wonderful options Ablo…but then who will serve us tomorrow? What’s on the congressional schedule tomorrow Ablo?
“The children’s anti starvation legislation and the assistance to families of war veterans sir.”
We’ll have to shelve them till next session. Give this last-call law top priority. Look into this whole time change thing too Ablo. It’s too damned confusing. I would have ordered a beer before two o’clock if I’d have known it was going to be three o’clock so quickly. You know I would have Ablo!
“It’s two o’clock sir.”
MY watch says one o’clock.
“I’ll reset mine sir. Yours can’t be wrong…you’re a politician. There…one o’clock.”
No wait Ablo, the clock on the wall says three o’clock.
“That’s because they never changed it since the last daylight savings time sir.”
But today we’re supposed to move our clocks ahead an hour. I think its two o’clock, but it’s actually three o’clock because of the whole fall-back spring-forward thing.
“I’ll reset my clock to three am.”
Bartender, can we have a couple more beers here?”
“I’m sorry, but the bar is closed…it’s three o’clock.”
But it was just two o’clock a minute ago. It can’t be three o’clock already…now give us a couple of beers.
“But sir…I can’t serve alcohol after two-thirty. It’s against the law.”
Well if it was just two o’clock, it can’t be three o’clock all of a sudden. We can’t just skip last call.
“I’m sorry sir but I can lose my liquor license if I serve you.”
“Even if you’re right…there must be some law against skipping last call. You can’t just skip something as important as last call! Now give us a beer.
“Yes sir. Here are a couple of cold beers.”
Arrrrgh! Spit! Blah.! That’s terrible stuff! What is that swill he served us Ablo?
“It’s root beer sir. Shall I have him shot sir? Or worse…I’ll have him deported to Afar!”
Those are wonderful options Ablo…but then who will serve us tomorrow? What’s on the congressional schedule tomorrow Ablo?
“The children’s anti starvation legislation and the assistance to families of war veterans sir.”
We’ll have to shelve them till next session. Give this last-call law top priority. Look into this whole time change thing too Ablo. It’s too damned confusing. I would have ordered a beer before two o’clock if I’d have known it was going to be three o’clock so quickly. You know I would have Ablo!
Mars Day 26: A gay old time
Ablo, I like campaigning.
“Me too sir…especially the way we do it. It’s more like bar hopping really.”
Now remember to keep the teleprompter hidden from view…I don’t want people to think I’m a blithering idiot. Now do you have it set up?
“Yes sir, free stuff, no little rubber thingy’s, and free drinks on the house…or was it the senate?”
It doesn’t really matter Ablo, so long as we don’t have to foot the bill.
“I’m thirsty sir. Can we stop here?”
This looks like a nice establishment. “The Queen’s Cabaret”.
“That must mean they have dancing sir. Can we campaign here next, sir, please?”
Why not Ablo? Look, they’ve got a great big dance floor, and lots of colorful lights. And look at the bar…it’s enormous.
“It’s also very crowded sir. You should earn a lot of votes here.”
Ablo, I’ll go up on the dance floor while it’s empty, and you announce my presence.
“Can I have your attention please! I’d like to introduce you to our future supreme leader.”
Applause!
Thank you all for coming out here for my little rally. As you know, after I’m elected I plan to give you all a lot of free stuff, like health care and food vouchers and cellular phones.
Applause!
You also know that I feel strongly that we should eat lots of potatoes and fornicate like there’s no tomorrow…to help with the climate problems.
Applause!
member of the audience: “How do you feel about gay marriage?”
Gay marriage? Well that’s a little off script. But of course I’m all for a happy and spirited wedding. Why are you shaking your head Ablo? Who doesn’t like a gay old wedding?
Now then, the drinks are on the house!
Applause!
“Sir, I don’t think you quite understand this whole gay marriage thing. It goes against the whole climate change campaign.”
Nonsense Ablo, the more weddings we have, the more babies we have. And the more babies we have…the more potatoes are consumed…etcetera and so on.
Two beers barkeep and two shots of absolution.
“Here are your drinks sir, and let me just say that I’m just glad to see that you’re behind gay marriage.”
Happy to ablige, sir. I'm for any couple getting married...except for carpet cleaners and organ-grinders of course.
"Huh?"
He seems like a nice fellow Ablo. A bit queer, but nice.
“Sir, have you noticed that there aren’t any women here.”
Isn’t it wonderful Ablo. Where I come from we call this male bonding. They do seem to be rubbing their whiskers a bit too closely for my taste, but bonding is bonding. Just so long as they aren’t a bunch of fudge-packers, Ablo, if you get my drift?
“I don’t think that’s a politically correct term sir.”
Nonsense Ablo, anyway I don’t think we’ll find any turd-burglars in here. No sir, not a tea-bagger in the lot. Just a bunch of good ole boys havin a gay old time.
“Some of them are wearing fish-net stockings and skirts sir.”
Kilts, Ablo, get your terminology right. Wearing a kilt doesn’t make you a Twinkie-eater. Where I come from wearing a kilt and dancing with other men is normal. Just because we wear kilts doesn’t mean we’re a bunch of smurf-surfers.
"Sounds like you might have some tendencies yourself sir."
I'm always attentive Ablo.
“By the way sir…they’re holding each other’s butts on the dance floor.”
Some sort of Martian custom eh? Couldn’t have any of our good Martian citizens out there pushing stool. It’s against my religion you know.
“Yes sir, we can’t have that or we'd have to declair a Jihad.”
Let’s get a Gay Marriage proposal on the agenda, eh Ablo? What do you say.
“Of course sir, that should earn you a lot of votes.”
Now, that’s enough shop-talk…can we have a little fun? I see a couple of cuties down at the end of the bar. You can have the pretty one and I’ll take the one with the big hooters.
“Which one is the pretty one sir…the one with the beard or the one with the mustache?”
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder Ablo. Now be quiet…I’m undressing them with my eyes.
“You’re going to make a great leader sir.”
Do you think so Ablo? Sometimes I question whether or not I have the savvy it takes to lead a nation.
“Me too, sir, but you sure have a way with words.”
“Me too sir…especially the way we do it. It’s more like bar hopping really.”
Now remember to keep the teleprompter hidden from view…I don’t want people to think I’m a blithering idiot. Now do you have it set up?
“Yes sir, free stuff, no little rubber thingy’s, and free drinks on the house…or was it the senate?”
It doesn’t really matter Ablo, so long as we don’t have to foot the bill.
“I’m thirsty sir. Can we stop here?”
This looks like a nice establishment. “The Queen’s Cabaret”.
“That must mean they have dancing sir. Can we campaign here next, sir, please?”
Why not Ablo? Look, they’ve got a great big dance floor, and lots of colorful lights. And look at the bar…it’s enormous.
“It’s also very crowded sir. You should earn a lot of votes here.”
Ablo, I’ll go up on the dance floor while it’s empty, and you announce my presence.
“Can I have your attention please! I’d like to introduce you to our future supreme leader.”
Applause!
Thank you all for coming out here for my little rally. As you know, after I’m elected I plan to give you all a lot of free stuff, like health care and food vouchers and cellular phones.
Applause!
You also know that I feel strongly that we should eat lots of potatoes and fornicate like there’s no tomorrow…to help with the climate problems.
Applause!
member of the audience: “How do you feel about gay marriage?”
Gay marriage? Well that’s a little off script. But of course I’m all for a happy and spirited wedding. Why are you shaking your head Ablo? Who doesn’t like a gay old wedding?
Now then, the drinks are on the house!
Applause!
“Sir, I don’t think you quite understand this whole gay marriage thing. It goes against the whole climate change campaign.”
Nonsense Ablo, the more weddings we have, the more babies we have. And the more babies we have…the more potatoes are consumed…etcetera and so on.
Two beers barkeep and two shots of absolution.
“Here are your drinks sir, and let me just say that I’m just glad to see that you’re behind gay marriage.”
Happy to ablige, sir. I'm for any couple getting married...except for carpet cleaners and organ-grinders of course.
"Huh?"
He seems like a nice fellow Ablo. A bit queer, but nice.
“Sir, have you noticed that there aren’t any women here.”
Isn’t it wonderful Ablo. Where I come from we call this male bonding. They do seem to be rubbing their whiskers a bit too closely for my taste, but bonding is bonding. Just so long as they aren’t a bunch of fudge-packers, Ablo, if you get my drift?
“I don’t think that’s a politically correct term sir.”
Nonsense Ablo, anyway I don’t think we’ll find any turd-burglars in here. No sir, not a tea-bagger in the lot. Just a bunch of good ole boys havin a gay old time.
“Some of them are wearing fish-net stockings and skirts sir.”
Kilts, Ablo, get your terminology right. Wearing a kilt doesn’t make you a Twinkie-eater. Where I come from wearing a kilt and dancing with other men is normal. Just because we wear kilts doesn’t mean we’re a bunch of smurf-surfers.
"Sounds like you might have some tendencies yourself sir."
I'm always attentive Ablo.
“By the way sir…they’re holding each other’s butts on the dance floor.”
Some sort of Martian custom eh? Couldn’t have any of our good Martian citizens out there pushing stool. It’s against my religion you know.
“Yes sir, we can’t have that or we'd have to declair a Jihad.”
Let’s get a Gay Marriage proposal on the agenda, eh Ablo? What do you say.
“Of course sir, that should earn you a lot of votes.”
Now, that’s enough shop-talk…can we have a little fun? I see a couple of cuties down at the end of the bar. You can have the pretty one and I’ll take the one with the big hooters.
“Which one is the pretty one sir…the one with the beard or the one with the mustache?”
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder Ablo. Now be quiet…I’m undressing them with my eyes.
“You’re going to make a great leader sir.”
Do you think so Ablo? Sometimes I question whether or not I have the savvy it takes to lead a nation.
“Me too, sir, but you sure have a way with words.”
Mars Day 27: Keepin their Jibblies in their Jeans
Ablo, if I’m to be elected, I need a wife. The people of Mars want stability. You can’t have stability without a wife.
“Does that mean no more office liaisons with your interns?”
Absolutely…NOT! Why, Ablo, extramarital sex is a presidential privilege which dates back to the early 1800’s when Thomas Jefferson slipped it to his little slave girl Sally. Since that precedent was set presidents have been taking on mistresses like a Martian takes to potatoes. President Harding banged so many tomatoes that his wife put poison in his papaya juice. Since then FDR and Ike and JFK and LBJ and Wild Bill Clinton have carried on the tradition. What kind of president would I be if I didn’t follow suit?
“But most of them kept their jibblies in their drawers’ sir. Why couldn’t you follow in their footsteps?”
How could you ask me to deprive all those pretty interns of this beautiful body Ablo? That would be unfair!
“Not seeing it sir.”
Here…I’ll just take off my shirt and show you my sculpted abs.
“No, sir, really…that’s okay…I’ll take your word for it. Ooooh, boy, you did it…and your sculpted abs appear to have quite a bit of padding.”
And that’s not all…you gotta see my—
“If you take it out you’ll need a new running mate sir.”
Just a quick peek Ablo…between us men.
“I’m afraid I must insist.”
Well, you don’t know what you’re missing Ablo…it’s a sight to behold.
“My eyes are already burning, so I guess I’ll just have to use my imagination sir.”
Fine, if that’s how you want it…but I’ll tell you something…if you’re not willing to put your Johnson out there…you won’t make a very good president. That’s a proven fact.
“I guess I’m just doomed to play second fiddle sir.”
Did you say you want to see my fiddle?
NO!
“Does that mean no more office liaisons with your interns?”
Absolutely…NOT! Why, Ablo, extramarital sex is a presidential privilege which dates back to the early 1800’s when Thomas Jefferson slipped it to his little slave girl Sally. Since that precedent was set presidents have been taking on mistresses like a Martian takes to potatoes. President Harding banged so many tomatoes that his wife put poison in his papaya juice. Since then FDR and Ike and JFK and LBJ and Wild Bill Clinton have carried on the tradition. What kind of president would I be if I didn’t follow suit?
“But most of them kept their jibblies in their drawers’ sir. Why couldn’t you follow in their footsteps?”
How could you ask me to deprive all those pretty interns of this beautiful body Ablo? That would be unfair!
“Not seeing it sir.”
Here…I’ll just take off my shirt and show you my sculpted abs.
“No, sir, really…that’s okay…I’ll take your word for it. Ooooh, boy, you did it…and your sculpted abs appear to have quite a bit of padding.”
And that’s not all…you gotta see my—
“If you take it out you’ll need a new running mate sir.”
Just a quick peek Ablo…between us men.
“I’m afraid I must insist.”
Well, you don’t know what you’re missing Ablo…it’s a sight to behold.
“My eyes are already burning, so I guess I’ll just have to use my imagination sir.”
Fine, if that’s how you want it…but I’ll tell you something…if you’re not willing to put your Johnson out there…you won’t make a very good president. That’s a proven fact.
“I guess I’m just doomed to play second fiddle sir.”
Did you say you want to see my fiddle?
NO!
Mars Day: 28 Wisdom
It’s St. Patrick’s Day Ablo. This is one of my favorite days of the year.
“Why is that sir?”
Because I get to get drunk, act like a total fool, and blame it on the fact that I’m Irish.
“But sir, you’re a politician…you do that every day.”
Ablo, being a wise-ass doesn’t make you wise!
“Another beer sir?”
Is the Pope a Catholic?”
“Why is that sir?”
Because I get to get drunk, act like a total fool, and blame it on the fact that I’m Irish.
“But sir, you’re a politician…you do that every day.”
Ablo, being a wise-ass doesn’t make you wise!
“Another beer sir?”
Is the Pope a Catholic?”
Mars Day 29: A Bridge too Far
Ablo, how hard would it be to create a little traffic jam?
“How little?”
Oh, say jam up the highway system of an important bridge in a major city during rush-hour.
“Why would you want to do that sir?”
To make my rival look bad. It’s her bridge.
“So you want to make a bunch of our fellow Martians miserable for political ends?”
No, of course not.
“So you weren’t serious?”
Yes I was serious, but no, of course not.
“Huh?”
I don’t even want to know its happening.
“But you just said—“
What did I say?
“Jam up the highway system of an important bridge in a major city during rush-our traffic to make our opponent look bad.”
Why Ablo, that’s a brilliant idea! But I don’t know what you’re talking about.
“So do it then?”
Do what?
“How little?”
Oh, say jam up the highway system of an important bridge in a major city during rush-hour.
“Why would you want to do that sir?”
To make my rival look bad. It’s her bridge.
“So you want to make a bunch of our fellow Martians miserable for political ends?”
No, of course not.
“So you weren’t serious?”
Yes I was serious, but no, of course not.
“Huh?”
I don’t even want to know its happening.
“But you just said—“
What did I say?
“Jam up the highway system of an important bridge in a major city during rush-our traffic to make our opponent look bad.”
Why Ablo, that’s a brilliant idea! But I don’t know what you’re talking about.
“So do it then?”
Do what?
Mars Day 30: Rockin the Cradle
Mary had a little lamb, little lamb—
“What’s that sir?”
Oh, I was just singing an old nursery rhyme
“A what?”
A nursery rhyme. You know…a sweet little song you sing to babies. You have nursery rhymes here on Mars don’t you?”
“No sir.”
You know, like ‘Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great
fall—‘
“and he broke into pieces and died? That’s terrible sir.”
No it isn’t Ablo, its sweet. Like ‘Rock-a-bye baby in the tree top. When the wind blows the cradle will rock. When the bow breaks the cradle will fall—‘
“and splat your precious little baby is dead?”
Well yes, Ablo, but in a nice way. Then there’s ‘Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies. Ashes….ashes—‘
“What is a ring around the rosy and why do they need posies?”
A rosy is the rash that developed on the skin when people got the Bubonic plague, and the posy was a fragrant flower used to block out the overwhelming stench of death…but you have to understand Abloe—
“Oh my Gork! You sing this stuff to babies? I would never sing that to my baby sir. That’s terrible.”
But Ablo, it’s all in the tone of voice…you have to sing it sweet and soothing like a siren’s song. And then there’s Cindarella Dressed in Yella, went upstairs to kiss her fella, made a mistake, kissed a snake—
“You’re singing to a baby about a blow job? No wonder you have this obsession with Miss Monicolointzgee. ”
Ablo…you’re so negative. Never you mind.
“But these rhymes are sick and disgusting!”
I said never mind! Go eat some potatoes; go take a Gore or something! Just go!
“What’s that sir?”
Oh, I was just singing an old nursery rhyme
“A what?”
A nursery rhyme. You know…a sweet little song you sing to babies. You have nursery rhymes here on Mars don’t you?”
“No sir.”
You know, like ‘Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great
fall—‘
“and he broke into pieces and died? That’s terrible sir.”
No it isn’t Ablo, its sweet. Like ‘Rock-a-bye baby in the tree top. When the wind blows the cradle will rock. When the bow breaks the cradle will fall—‘
“and splat your precious little baby is dead?”
Well yes, Ablo, but in a nice way. Then there’s ‘Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies. Ashes….ashes—‘
“What is a ring around the rosy and why do they need posies?”
A rosy is the rash that developed on the skin when people got the Bubonic plague, and the posy was a fragrant flower used to block out the overwhelming stench of death…but you have to understand Abloe—
“Oh my Gork! You sing this stuff to babies? I would never sing that to my baby sir. That’s terrible.”
But Ablo, it’s all in the tone of voice…you have to sing it sweet and soothing like a siren’s song. And then there’s Cindarella Dressed in Yella, went upstairs to kiss her fella, made a mistake, kissed a snake—
“You’re singing to a baby about a blow job? No wonder you have this obsession with Miss Monicolointzgee. ”
Ablo…you’re so negative. Never you mind.
“But these rhymes are sick and disgusting!”
I said never mind! Go eat some potatoes; go take a Gore or something! Just go!
Mars Day 31: Quit stalking me!
“Sir, every time I turn around…she’s there.”
You don’t say?
“This is serious sir. I think she’s stalking me.”
Don’t you think your exaggerating just the least bit Ablo, after all—
“When I come home from work, she’s there. When I look out the window I see her out there taking my paper or snooping about the potato garden. I go to a restaurant, she follows me. I try to watch a ballgame on the television, but I can feel her presence. Every single day, somewhere, somehow, I see her.”
You’ll have that sometimes, you see—
“Isn’t there something that can be done sir? You’re practically our supreme leader…can’t you do something?”
Ablo, what is it that you want me to do? Do you want to have her killed? Is that what you’re asking? Do you want me to have secret service take her out?
“Yes, the last thing you said…have secret service take her out!”
You want them to kill your wife?
“No! Sir, don’t be ridiculous! It’s just that she’s driving me crazy. Six months ago I was single. I could do what I wanted when I wanted. Now I can’t even take a gore without her interrupting. I can’t have a cup of tea without her asking me how my day went. I just need some alone time. For Gork’s sake, please have someone from secret service take her out. I don’t even care if they shtup her. Just get her out of my hair for one day. Please.”
You’re not taking to this whole marriage thing too well, are you Ablo?
“With all due respect sir, you brought this marriage custom to Mars…if you ever go home…please take it back with you!
I’ll see what I can do.
“Does this marriage thing work well where you come from sir?”
Oh, goodness yes. It works wonderfully…errrr, that is, about fifty percent of them time.
“What do you do when it doesn’t work?”
We submit both parties to the worst kind of torture there is.
“You water-board them? Electrocute them? Hang them on hooks by their genitalia?”
No Ablo…much worse. We give them each an attorney and they bleed them both dry.
“Doesn’t sound so bad sir. Does it hurt worse than marriage?”
Stings for a bit…but it beats the alternative.
“Life in prison eh?”
Something like that.
You don’t say?
“This is serious sir. I think she’s stalking me.”
Don’t you think your exaggerating just the least bit Ablo, after all—
“When I come home from work, she’s there. When I look out the window I see her out there taking my paper or snooping about the potato garden. I go to a restaurant, she follows me. I try to watch a ballgame on the television, but I can feel her presence. Every single day, somewhere, somehow, I see her.”
You’ll have that sometimes, you see—
“Isn’t there something that can be done sir? You’re practically our supreme leader…can’t you do something?”
Ablo, what is it that you want me to do? Do you want to have her killed? Is that what you’re asking? Do you want me to have secret service take her out?
“Yes, the last thing you said…have secret service take her out!”
You want them to kill your wife?
“No! Sir, don’t be ridiculous! It’s just that she’s driving me crazy. Six months ago I was single. I could do what I wanted when I wanted. Now I can’t even take a gore without her interrupting. I can’t have a cup of tea without her asking me how my day went. I just need some alone time. For Gork’s sake, please have someone from secret service take her out. I don’t even care if they shtup her. Just get her out of my hair for one day. Please.”
You’re not taking to this whole marriage thing too well, are you Ablo?
“With all due respect sir, you brought this marriage custom to Mars…if you ever go home…please take it back with you!
I’ll see what I can do.
“Does this marriage thing work well where you come from sir?”
Oh, goodness yes. It works wonderfully…errrr, that is, about fifty percent of them time.
“What do you do when it doesn’t work?”
We submit both parties to the worst kind of torture there is.
“You water-board them? Electrocute them? Hang them on hooks by their genitalia?”
No Ablo…much worse. We give them each an attorney and they bleed them both dry.
“Doesn’t sound so bad sir. Does it hurt worse than marriage?”
Stings for a bit…but it beats the alternative.
“Life in prison eh?”
Something like that.
Mars day 1
- Duffy Prendergast's profile
- 16 followers
Duffy Prendergast isn't a Goodreads Author
(yet),
but they
do have a blog,
so here are some recent posts imported from
their feed.
