Author: Sandy Pants

This is where I invite, (beg), my readers to download my eBooks, "Revenge For The Dogs," and "Green Stuff," available from Amazon. Guaranteed to make you laugh, or your money back.

ENHANCED NEWS STORIES OF 2018

In hopes of making 2019, the funniest year yet, I decided to tell you what really happened in 2018, maybe.

This bug may be hanging out waiting to become a human, (see May, below)

January: Some liberals, at least 2 or 3 of them, were cheered at the first anniversary of Trump’s presidency after learning that researchers in Bangladesh have developed a dung-eating earthworm. So, provided they raise enough of the creepy crawlers to cover the whole US up to our necks, we should be all right.

February: Elon Musk sent a rocket into space and dropped off a red 2008 Tesla convertible piloted by a dummy nicknamed, “Starman.” He, (Musk, not the dummy), thinks the car will end up in the asteroid belt, but I’m hoping the fiery heap will end up in Elon’s backyard.

March: Police in Oslo, Norway, say the FBI is assisting in the investigation of 2 forged nominations of Donald Trump for the Nobel Peace prize. They discovered the forgery because the impersonator allegedly used the same stolen identity twice. Eric Trump could not be reached for comment.

April: A mysterious ribbon of atmospheric light known as STEVE flashed across the sky over British Columbia last April. Rumors abound, but STEVE is named for the guy who discovered it, who also seems to exist in a cloud of hot, fast-moving gas. According to a new study, STEVE is not an aurora, but something completely unknown to science. Calls to Elon Musk went straight to Starman’s voicemail.

May: Reacting to North Korea’s recent nuclear advances, scientists are attempting to unlock, and possibly harness, the genome of the cockroach–reputably for the benefit of mankind. They hope that the hybrid human/cockroach will quickly adapt to environmental disasters, much like their predecessors. Upon hearing this news, clothing designers scurried to create clothing with more arms and legs.

June: The WHO, (the World Health Organization, not the band), formally added “Gaming Disorder” to their list of new diseases we can catch. They estimated that 1 out of 10 gamers spend more than 12 hours/day playing video games. 1 out of 10 researchers of this disorder were unavailable for comment, according to their moms.

July: Scientists discovered that the Thames, near London’s House of Parliament, contains so much cocaine that the eels are getting too high to mate, threatening their existence. Also threatening their existence: some members of the House of Parliament have been seen with eels up their noses.

August: A new law was passed in East Africa imposing long jail sentences for those who are “offensive” or “morally improper” online. Coincidentally, one President abruptly cancelled his trip to the area.

September: British folks were amazed at the unusual sight of a beluga whale in the Thames River this month. Reports of it having an eel stuck in its nose couldn’t be verified.

October: An Illinois candidate for governor removed 5 toilets from one of his properties making it “Uninhabitable” which should result in lower taxes. The stinking, rich businessman won the election, but lost to the tax bureau and had to pay over $300 thousand in back taxes.

November: A pigeon wearing a rhinestone vest returned to its anxious owners after 2 weeks on the lam. The poor bird could barely fly, having somehow acquired a diamond-studded tiara while it was missing.

December: NPR, (National Public Radio), reports that the Illinois State House has a nativity scene on display, in addition to a menorah and, (for devil worshipers), a statue of a snake coiled around an arm with an apple in its hand. At the unveiling of the holiday exhibits, a man resembling the new governor-elect, (discovered nearby in top hat and tail, tap-dancing with a trident), refused to comment.

Self-Realization Through Prevarication

pinochio

An older friend of mine, okay, he’s not a friend, he’s my brother, recently wrote about, “Who Am I?” He told of being asked this question by a psychologist who refused his answers of stock broker, husband, father, Catholic and what not. Like the doctor was some kind of guru, or something. Anyway, the first thing I thought, being his nicey-nice sister was, “I’ll tell you who you are–you’re an idiot!”

I didn’t post that comment to him, though, because I didn’t want to get a sock in the nose, or worse. Instead, I wrote, “You are a person who believes what psychologists say.”

You know? I get tired of these men and women of mental science sitting on mountaintops, whether real or imagined, spouting nonsense about our inner beings and having everyone think they’re correct. I say, just because one says something with confidence doesn’t mean that it’s true. Sometimes, you just gotta use your head, man, and figure it out for yourself.

For example, take the question, “Who am I?” I think most of us answer something about our occupations. Yet, there are doctors who have claimed, “we are what we eat.” Now, who is going to say, like JFK in Berlin, “I am a jelly doughnut,” (literal translation of, “Ich bin ein Berliner.”)  However, if we really are what we eat, I would be a pizza–interpret what you want from this information, it is rather revealing…

I think that people who answer, “I am so-and-so’s wife, husband, etc., and don’t elaborate on what that entails exactly, need to get a life of their own. I remember this woman in my watercolor class who identified herself as, “Dr. So N. So’s wife.” Yet she painted recognizable, if not spectacular, landscapes, unlike the rest of the class.

So, I say, when asked, “Who are you?” never let people know you’re partnered with someone. For more reasons than one, I suppose. Say something about who you wish to become, like, “I am a painter. By the way, heh-heh, you’d look good in cerulean blue.” Okay, you don’t have to put in that last part–I stuck that in to see if you were paying attention.

My point is, YOU ARE WHAT YOU WISH YOU WERE. Whatever it is that is disturbing you enough to cause you to wonder, “Who am I?” is most likely connected to some unrealized dream vision of yourself. Consequently, you get depressed thinking you’re going to die having accomplished nothing, and you ask yourself silly questions that will twist your brain up like a jogger’s panties.

“But, wise old crone,” you say. “Are you advocating lying to people?”

“Why yes,” I say. “If you tell enough people you are a musician, then you’d best start practicing that harp.” I call this manner of identifying oneself, “self-realization through prevarication.” Pretty snappy title for a new self-help book, huh?

That said, I am a humorist.