Friday, April 20, 2018

Whirled View

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Sure, there are a lot of important stories in the news lately - but can any story possibly be as important as saving our entire planet?! Excluding, apparently, any story about a top-heavy porn star or the nightmarish discovery of 8000 domestic hideouts for racist baristas.

But saving the world is right up there, which is why it's so important to take part in your local Earth Day activities this Sunday! Whether it's shutting off the electricity to your home or iron lung, not flushing the family toilet all day, eschewing burgers made from flatulent cows, or simply holding your breath to avoid exhaling poisonous carbon dioxide - every little bit helps.

The time for skepticism about our growing environmental catastrophe has passed, assuming that "skepticism" means "asking for scientific data which is at least marginally plausible." Consensus science tells us that Mother Nature, ruffled and ravaged, deserves to be at the forefront of the #MeToo movement - and not just because of that night she can't quite remember with Bill Cosby.

This Earth Day, don't be an energy-wasting planet-destroying wastrel like Leonardo DiCaprio or Al Gore. Be like this guy...


A hand-chosen selection of environmentally conscious cartoons from our past...

And with Starbucks in the news, let's revisit their monumentally unsuccessful and quickly aborted "Let's Talk About Race" campaign from several years ago! Apparently having access to free coffee isn't enough to help slow learners...

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Whine and Cheese

stilton’s place, stilton, political, humor, conservative, cartoons, jokes, hope n’ change, diverticulitis, medicare, insurance, whine

Let us be honest up front: today's post is all about venting and complaining. Not about the news, which is about as screwed up as usual, but rather some more personal issues. Like...


The verdict is in about our abdominal pain. It's an attack of acute diverticulitis which will take some time to resolve. The good news is that, not so long ago, the standard treatment for diverticulitis was to slice you open and start pulling out organs.

Now, we can be treated with antibiotics - but there's a catch: one of the antibiotics needs to be taken with food so it won't burn a hole through your stomach the way the Alien's molecular-acid blood burned through deck plates. BUT...the doctor has ordered "no food" for up to two weeks - just clear liquids.

This wouldn't necessarily be unlivable were it not for the fact that a second antibiotic will give you violent projectile vomiting if you have so much as a sip of alcohol. So this is going to be a long friggin' two weeks.


Remember that hail storm we mentioned last week? We've already had one roofer inspect the damage and say (surprise!) we need a new roof. But here's the rub: we last replaced our roof in 2003, and we got the best (and most expensive) materials available. For that reason, our sturdy roof has survived when all of our thriftier neighbors have gotten new roofs over the years - some multiple times - from their homeowners insurance.

But OUR insurance had a little surprise for us: "If your roof is older than 10 years, we triple your deductible." In this case, to around $9,000. So will the insurance pay anything above that? Maybe yes, maybe no - because besides sticking us with that insane deductible, they also plan to depreciate the roof because of it's age. So the likelihood is that the insurance we religiously pay for won't cover doodly squat. Hell, we may owe them money just for making their phone ring.


As if we weren't already in a rotten mood (and we are!), we got a letter today in which Medicare essentially told us to attempt conjugal relations with a rolling donut regarding a recent bill.

We won't get into medical details, but this involves an expensive test (as in multiple thousands of dollars) which was pretty damn important. But Medicare has decided the test was neither necessary or reasonable and won't pay a dime. "But don't worry," they assure us, "since the fault belongs with your doctor who ordered this unreasonable, unnecessary test, we'll force them to pay the whole bill."

Let's think this through: a doctor (an excellent doctor with a prestigious practice) is essentially going to be penalized for ordering a very important and entirely necessary test. So what do you think will happen the next time the doctor thinks someone needs that test? Right - the test won't be ordered and the patient will suffer the potentially catastrophic consequences. 

It's a win-win-win for the government: they don't pay off on the Medicare promises they've made, they discourage doctors from even ordering tests and, in the long run, more people die early and won't be collecting their government benefits. Genius!


In the past few days we lost Art Bell, the master of creepy conspiracy late night radio, R. Lee Ermey, who burned his way into our national consciousness with his role of "The Gunny" in the film "Full Metal Jacket" and, closest to our heart, actor/magician/con-man Harry Anderson.

In that same period of time, we're unaware of any complete a**holes dying. So what's the deal, Death?!

We could continue ranting about these and other matters, but it's time for us to eat our delicious sugar-free jello and take that stomach-destroying pill.


(Update: After writing the above, we learned of the passing of former first lady Barbara Bush. Her strength and classiness will be missed.)

Monday, April 16, 2018

Take Me Out to the Bowel Game

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We're kicking off with a Johnny Optimism cartoon in order to fulfill our journalistic obligation to not just bring you information, but also bring you too much information.

Specifically, in this case, that we're currently experiencing a flare-up of either irritable bowel syndrome, diverticulitis, or a Russian nerve agent which was secretly added to our bathroom tissue.

It's not a big deal, except for our Tourette's-style outbursts when we engage in strenuous activities like moving slightly or breathing - at which point a knife-like pain jabs us in the abdomen.

It's silly, embarrassing, and probably not fatal...but frankly we're just a little too sore to do much creative work today. Not to mention that we're self-medicating with a microwaveable heating pad which we alternate with cold therapy. Hey, Clan MacGregor on ice is cold!

So in lieu of talking about missiles hitting Syria, or Comey being a complete weasel, we will instead use today's space to describe how you can give the finger to Mark Zuckerberg's data-mining operation (sometimes called "Facebook")!

Below you'll find a relatively simple set of instructions (which we found, ironically, on Facebook) which won't exactly make you anonymous, but WILL nicely foul up the carefully constructed version of "you" which Zuck is selling to advertisers. The process takes 5-10 minutes and is repetitive but not hard. And if you're a regular Facebook user, you should probably take a minute each week to repeat the process (it will be quicker after you've laid this groundwork).

You see, we don't have to actually leave Facebook to send a message to them - we just need to cut into their advertising revenues to show our displeasure as conservatives with being treated as second class citizens (at best) or hate-mongers (at worst) on this least social of social media.

And so, after re-microwaving our heating pad and refilling our scotch glass, we now return to our tooth-gritting pain, which is already in progress.

Friday, April 13, 2018

Book Worm

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Disgraced former FBI director and serial-leaker James Comey is about to have his face plastered all over our nation's television screens as he kicks off a tour to pimp...uh, promote...his new tell-all book, "A Higher Loyalty: Truth, Lies and Leadership."

The book will be filled with the insights of a man who couldn't find dirt on Hillary.  Just let that sink in for a moment and be filled with a sense of awe regarding the sheer size of this man's ineptitude. Although we may be doing him a disservice - we don't actually doubt his ability to detect criminal activity, we just don't like it when he ignores such (in Hillary's case) or invents such (in Trump's case).

Comey has already recorded a lengthy interview with longtime Clinton shill George Stephanopoulos in which he allegedly compared the President to a "mob boss." Which either means that Comey's book will contain evidence of Trump's drug dealing, contract murders, and profligate distribution of severed horse heads, or that Comey is simply flinging whatever insults he thinks will sell books to the rubes in Progressive-land.

The mainstream media is looking to Comey's literary cash-grab to be approximately the 544th thing that will "finally bring down Donald Trump." We disagree. The greater likelihood is that while making the rounds of lectures, interviews, and book-signings Comey will get himself into serious trouble by making statements which conflict with his previous testimony about his own wrongdoings.

After which he can eventually release a new book: "A Higher Bunk: Memories of Prison Life."


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Comey's mind is like a steel trap; everything that goes in gets mangled.

Just a reminder from our good friend Johnny Optimism that you might as well go ahead and live your life as usual today; bad luck can strike wherever you are.

But that being said, we'd advise against doing anything risky to actually tempt fate. For instance, this would be a very bad day to mail your tax returns. You've been warned.

Wednesday, April 11, 2018

The Fast and the Furriest

stilton’s place, stilton, political, humor, conservative, cartoons, jokes, hope n’ change, earwigs, indian, squirrel, native american, iran, syria, stormy daniels, trump, lawyer, obama
Look! A squirrel!
Once again, we're sharing nearly random punchlines rather than delving deeply into the news. But here are a few bullet points (oops, we should have issued a trigger warning!) about some things which are driving us to drink today:

• Why in blazes has Donald Trump's personal lawyer been raided when Hillary was able to keep a thumbdrive with secret emails - emails rightfully belonging to the State Department - in her attorney's safe?!

• We'd like to see Trump's legal team file a sexual harassment suit against Stormy Daniels. Traditionally in these situations, even consensual sex can be categorized as harassment if there is an "imbalance of power" between the parties. While everyone assumes that it was Trump who had the power, we'd like to suggest that in certain circumstances it is women (especially ones who are attractive, are famous for being gymnastically good at sex, and who have huge tracts of land) who actually wield the power. If Trump was seduced, isn't he the victim here?

• Iran has announced that they can be back up to full speed making nukes in just 4 days, because they never actually dismantled the capability after negotiating their big agreement (ha!) with Obama. And, oh yeah, received billions of dollars in mad money as a reward. Theoretically, this peace agreement was Obama's biggest accomplishment in isn't it odd that we're not hearing more about it being a total sham which ups the odds of a nuclear conflagration?

Maybe it wasn't such a great idea to let Iran do their own inspections and verification, huh?

• Speaking of Barry's life-threatening foreign policy screw-ups, it now seems likely that Syria committed yet another chemical weapons attack using prohibited materials which "Red Line" Obama assured the world Syria didn't have anymore, because Barry's buddy Vladimir Putin removed them all (wink-wink). The situation in Syria is wildly complicated, but one thing is entirely clear: hastily awarded affirmative action Nobel Peace Prizes don't actually contribute to world peace.


Monday, April 9, 2018

What the Hail?!

stilton’s place, stilton, political, humor, conservative, cartoons, jokes, hope n’ change, texas, hail, tornado

The cartoon above isn't so much a joke as an accurate depiction of what happened at stately Jarlsberg Mansion last Friday.

In other parts of the country, Spring may be heralded by crocuses blooming and robins appearing. But here in Texas, it's not officially Spring until the tornado warning sirens go off.

Happily we did not get hit by an actual tornado, but we still had some excitement when our home was barraged with the largest hail we've ever personally laid our eyes on...

In the picture above, the image on the left was a hole in the storm clouds rotating ominously right over our house. To fully appreciate the butt-cranching nature of this image, you should imagine the sound of the aforementioned sirens (and an echoing amplified voice repeating "tornado! tornado!") and imagine the great feeling of knowing that you don't have a basement to hide in.

Seriously, basements simply aren't a thing you can have here. Builders claim it's because the clay soils expand and contract too much, but we think it's more of a Texas attitude thing: who but a pussy hat-wearing milquetoast needs to hide from weather when you can just face it down John Wayne-style?

Shortly after the swirling picture was taken, the sky decided to go ahead and kill anyone stupid enough to still be standing in their yard. See those hailstones? They're big, but they were even bigger when they first hurtled out of the sky and started destroying whatever they hit. Trust us, when these things are still falling you do not want to run out into the yard to gather souvenirs.

We think we got off pretty lucky: we had a skylight shattered by a direct hit, and we may or may not need the roof re-shingled (we're waiting for an inspection). But on the plus side, we got free sky ice to put in our scotch.


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At one time or another, we've all asked ourselves the same question: "How can I quickly offend others without time-wasting conversation?"

The answer is here, courtesy of our all-new, Amazon-exclusive Johnny Optimism t-shirt! Available in a rainbow of colors (assuming that the rainbow only has 5 colors and one of them is black) and both men's and women's styles (not that we mean to be binary gender normative), Johnny's bittersweet sense of carpe diem is sure to put a smile on the face of anyone who should probably be both medicated and supervised.

Besides being a handsome addition to your wardrobe, the t-shirt is also a perfect gift for anyone who you'd like to render speechless or a lovely "get well" present for anyone who hasn't picked up on your previous passive-aggressive remarks.

So now that we've got Johnny in the marketplace, what should come next? Anyone up for a Stilton's Place shirt? How about a patriotic design featuring Busty Ross?

Seriously, this isn't about making money so much as just having a little fun (hey, if we were smart about business, this wouldn't be a free site).

To order a shirt, just click on one of the links above - or do an Amazon search for "Johnny Optimism." Even if you're not buying, it will be fun to confuse Amazon's algorithms!

Friday, April 6, 2018

Raging Bull - Part Two

stilton’s place, stilton, political, humor, conservative, cartoons, jokes, hope n’ change, condom, snorting, de niro, nra, missing key
This explains why they don't want us seeing into their backpacks.
Ultra-liberal actor Robert De Niro has made yet another attack on the Right, saying that with gun-toting, Trump-loving morons like us "we're at the point where it's beyond trying to see another person's point of view." As if he'd ever tried to see our point of view.

But we had to laugh at Bob's assertion that the young students who recently participated in school walkouts are nascent geniuses whose moral strength and spontaneous wisdom will eventually create a better America at the voting booth.

Most telling is De Niro's phrase, "they're the ones that feel the way we do" - the "we" in this case referring to hardcore Leftists. But note that he doesn't say these kids think the way his Hollywood pals do, just that they feel the same way. Because Progressivism is always about feeling rather than thinking.

Which is just as well, because kids are idiots these days. Exhibit A is the current "condom snorting challenge" sweeping social media. The kids take videos of themselves snorting a condom up one nostril, sucking it back until it's dangling down the back of their throat, then grabbing the end (while trying, sometimes unsuccessfully, not to puke) so the whole pre-lubed mucus-coated shebang can be dragged through their nasal passages and yanked out of their mouth. After which they post the appalling video online to make sure that they will never be hired by any potential employer who has access to a computer.

But eventually these Trojenz-tooting dolts will make it to the polls. We can only hope that sometime between now and then, the "become an informed voter challenge" turns into an online craze.


We know exactly how he feels
I'll confess to not being able to fully focus on today's post owing to the fact that I lost a key and it's driving me mad.

Or more accurately, not driving me mad (or anywhere else) because it's my car key. Not the kind you can go to a hardware store and copy for a buck. NooOOooo, this is one of those fancy high-tech keys which will cost hundreds of dollars to replace if it can't be found. And it's the ONLY key missing from my key ring, which is kept in my pocket at all times (can you feel the Agatha Christie-style mystery building?).

Owing to my barnacle-like lifestyle and the fact that the key must have been lost at home (how else could I have driven there?), there are very few places to look...and I've looked in all of them. Repeatedly. Crawling on my belly like a reptile (or a Swiffer, considering the dirt and dog hair I collected) to look under, well, everything.

This is made all the more distressing by the fact that I have just a wee touch of obsessive-compulsive disorder (who else would do a thousand cartoons about a sick kid using the same art?). Mind you, I don't have OCD to the extent that I wash my hands (or any other part of my anatomy) hundreds of times a day, but I've got it bad enough to rearrange the shopping carts in a parking lot if the smaller ones have become mixed in with the bigger ones. But hey, we all do that, right? Right...?!

Anyway, for the sake of my sanity I'm hoping that damnable key will turn up soon. I'd say more, but I'm off to to buy a metal detector.


The key has been found! And I'm rather proud of the Holmes-ian process I used to locate it. I asked myself what I had done differently than usual yesterday and, sadly, it was exactly one thing: upon returning home from a power lunch at Wendy's, I pulled out the car key and then reached into the back seat with the same hand to grab a sweatshirt.

I returned to the scene of the crime, flashlight in hand, searched the car unsuccessfully for awhile... then spotted the key neatly tucked between the two front seats in a spot as thoroughly hidden and inaccessible as Barack Obama's college records.

I realize that this makes all the preamble above fairly pointless, but I wasn't about to erase this much perfectly serviceable writing (grin).   -Stilton

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

Day After Dyngus

stilton’s place, stilton, political, humor, conservative, cartoons, jokes, hope n’ change, dyngus day, buffalo, anderson cooper

With immigration (and a possible invading army of Hondurans) much in the news, we think it's time for some sober contemplation of the larger issues and implications associated with weaving different nationalities and traditions into our great national tapestry.

Is assimilation an impossible dream? Or is America made better through the contributions of people from other parts of the world? We firmly believe in the latter proposition, if only in recognition of the great gift Polish immigrants brought to their new homeland: Dyngus Day!

Dyngus Day occurs on Easter Monday, and seems like an especially good idea to those whose Cadbury Easter eggs turned out to be full of liquor. Likely based on ancient fertility rituals, on Dyngus Day boys splash water on girls whom they find attractive and the girls, if similarly interested, tap their suitors with a pussy willow. Presumably, great merriment and a slew of new Polish kids ensue in the fullness of time.

In some sad backwaters of our nation, Dyngus Day still isn't celebrated with the same enthusiasm as other ethnic drinking holidays like St. Patrick's Day or Cinco de Mayo. Perhaps because restaurants and bars aren't sure if they can advertise a "Big Dyngus Party" without getting into trouble with the law or, perhaps, attracting an entirely different clientele than they were aiming for.

But in Buffalo, New York they do the day up right, complete with parades, polka bands, a competition for the much-coveted title of "Miss Dyngus," and festive Dyngus Day costumes like these...

For those of you with dirty minds, we should point out that the men in the picture above are actually dressed as pierogies - the traditional Dyngus Day pastry. Said pierogies may be stuffed with macaroni and cheese, sour cherry filling, or buttered sauerkraut...making each reach for an hors d'oeuvre a culinary game of Russian roulette.

Here at Stilton's Place, we think it's high time to give Dyngus Day the attention and respect it deserves. And if you don't want to take our word for it, just listen to what respected journalist (and Stormy Daniels Fan Club president) Anderson Cooper has to say...

Monday, April 2, 2018

Not So April Foolish

We're keeping it short and sweet today because Daughter Jarlsberg is home for Easter and so today (Sunday) is all about family time.

Therefore, we're just serving up this trio of April Fool's Day headlines that we'd actually really like to see!

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Also admits "too drunk to really remember campaign."

stilton’s place, stilton, political, humor, conservative, cartoons, jokes, hope n’ change, April Fool, 2018, Hillary, Trump, Hogg
"Seriously, what the Hell was I thinking?" President adds.

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Students expected to walk out to protest space exploration.

Friday, March 30, 2018


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Ambassador Stevens could not be reached for comment
Something has gone very, very wrong at Netflix. They recently made a deal with Barack and Michelle Obama to develop exclusive content for the streaming service. And now, they've made Susan Rice a member of their board of directors, owing to her "great expertise" with foreign policy.

This is a woman who lied her ass off about the Benghazi nightmare, and then went on to be instrumental in the "outing" of individuals who were caught up in the illegal surveillance of people surrounding Donald Trump. She doesn't even deserve a first class prison cell, let alone a high-paying job in which she can inject more of her lies into the nation's bloodstream.

We like Netflix, subscribe to Netflix and, thanks to a fortunate stock purchase, have Netflix to thank for the best part of our retirement funds.

But if they're going to keep up this nonsense, we'll have no problem dumping their service and sticking with the programming on Amazon Prime. Unless, of course, Amazon hires Hillary.


stilton’s place, stilton, political, humor, conservative, cartoons, jokes, hope n’ change, pope francis, no hell, clintons

In a surprise announcement (to put it mildly), Pope Francis is alleged to have declared to a journalist that "there is no Hell," and that sinful souls actually just disappear. Perhaps with their soulful feet embedded in a wash tub of cement which is dropped to the bottom of the river Styx.

We should note that the Pope didn't say that last part, although we feel pretty solidly that it's implied.

The Vatican has subsequently released a statement suggesting that the Pope's remarks may have been misconstrued, as an official lack of eternal punishment in Hell might lead some folks (Progressives, for instance) to more fully indulge in their numerous bad habits.

Our take on this is that the Pope is simply aware that Easter and April Fool's Day fall on the same day this year (for the first time in 847 years), and he's making the most of it with a gag which people will have all eternity to laugh about...or regret.

In any case, we wish a sincere Happy Easter to the faithful among us...and encourage others not to use the Pope's pronouncement as an excuse to cause more Hell on Earth.

Wednesday, March 28, 2018

Roll in the Hay Model

stilton’s place, stilton, political, humor, conservative, cartoons, jokes, hope n’ change, planned parenthood, abortion, disney, princess

Still giddy from the 500 million taxpayer dollars heading their way from the recently passed "Omnibus Bill," a Pennsylvania branch of Planned Parenthood has come up with a bold new initiative to make their services more appealing to very young girls.

"We need a Disney princess who's had an abortion," the baby butchers happily tweeted.

This puts a new and unwelcomely graphic spin on Snow White's song "Someday my prince will come," implying that he did (wink-wink, nudge-nudge) but didn't stick around afterwards to support the baby mama.

Uh-oh! What should the knocked-up Princess do then, little girls? That's right - get an abortion! Hooray!

As puke-worthy as this notion is, Planned Parenthood wasn't finished with bright ideas for making abortion an entirely acceptable - indeed, routine and cool - alternative to giving birth. Their tweet went on to describe other Disney role models that young girls desperately need:

Presumably, Disney could get the whole job done with a single movie in which an illegal alien princess who's working a union job becomes heavy with child (perhaps after an evil witch has slipped her an enchanted banana). But our resourceful heroine then gleefully has an abortion (singing "What's the issue? It's just tissue!"), and the audience gets a warm and squishy happy ending when the illegal pro-choice union princess has surgery and hormone treatments to become her own handsome prince!

What frankly baffles us, other than how the ghouls at Planned Parenthood sleep at night, is why they've bothered to lump "Princess" in with all the other qualities they think young girls should find laudable.  Is aspiring to Princess-hood possible, plausible, or empowering in any way? Or does it just encourage girls to live in a completely unrealistic fantasy world with their hopes, and presumably legs, in the air - until harsh reality sets in.

At which time, Planned Parenthood will be singing "Hi-ho, hi-ho" as they don their mining helmets and crusty forceps...and rake in more millions of dollars for dumping Disney's dissected future audience members into garbage bags.

Monday, March 26, 2018

Send In The Clones

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Perhaps the sound "one hand clapping" isn't such a mystery after all
At a recent speaking engagement in Japan, Barack Obama said that he'd like to spend his post-presidency life mastering the skills to "create a hundred or a thousand or a million young Barack Obamas," and that this terrifying new race "could take the baton in that relay race that is human progress."

An idea which causes trained journalists such as ourselves to ask: "is Obama a new James Bond villain, or is he just out of his freaking mind?!"

In fairness, he's not actually planning to clone himself that many times, but rather is expressing his fervid desire to use cyber-technology and social media to basically erase the minds and wills of a million young people and reprogram them in his image.  Wow, nothing creepy about that!

Presumably the indoctrination process would require the young Obamoids to experience many of the personal and sociological influences that shaped B. Hussein. For starters, all the kids would need to be rejected by their birth parents in order to establish a good baseline of sociopathy and an unquenchable desire for revenge.

Follow that up with some time in Indonesia, attending Muslim schools (and learning to love the sound of the Muslim call to prayer above all other sounds) while occasionally chowing down on a dog or two.

Next, send the trainees to Hawaii where surrogate grandparents will stuff communism down their throats in much the same way that geese are force fed to make their livers tasty. Also, to ensure hatred of laws and the police, the Obamoids will form "choom gangs" who will smoke dope in sealed VW vans (and do a little blow when they can afford it) while ignoring anything remotely like actual school work or community engagement.

Next up: gathering some university credentials- which is not hard to do if they can A) claim to be foreigners when applying for loans ("Congratulations, Mr. Soetoro!") and, B) collect grades without anyone actually seeing them in class.

After that, all the million minions will need is a political launch from the living room of a radical terrorist. If there aren't enough terrorists to go around, the living room of a serial killer can be substituted assuming that guests are kept away from the crawlspace.

And voila! A new master race of self-centered, America-hating assholes ready to do one million times the damage previously done by Obama himself!

No wonder the left is in such a hurry to repeal the 2nd Amendment.


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By now you've probably heard that a school district in Pennsylvania is meeting the threat of school shooters head on by putting a bucket of rocks in every classroom, which the kids should grab and throw at the shooter.

But as much as we're tempted to make a "dumb as a box of rocks" joke, we have to admit that we actually like the idea. Oh, not as much as having armed guards and teachers scattered throughout the building. But failing that, hurled rocks are better than nothing. Albeit barely.

But just having a bucket of rocks isn't enough; time should be spend teaching the kids how to throw with power and death-dealing accuracy (perhaps we could import some instructors from Shariah-ruled countries to help with the fine points).

Additionally, schools could replace standard chemistry lessons with instruction on improvising weapons made from handy classroom items. If MacGyver could make an atomic bomb out of Elmer's glue, a D-cell battery, and a coconut, surely our school kids could at least learn how to make spears, poisoned arrows, and zip guns.

And in all seriousness, would it hurt to keep a nest of poisonous gaboon vipers in classroom terrariums to fling at attackers? No, it would not.

We assume that our suggestions above will soon be implemented in Pennsylvania, to whom we modestly say: don't thank us...we're just doing our jobs as patriotic Americans!


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There's a lot to dislike about the 1.3 trillion dollar omnibus spending bill just signed by Donald "Well, I didn't promise I'd veto it" Trump. The fact that Chuck Schumer and Nancy Pelosi are doing handsprings of joy over the new tsunami of spending suggests that this was no win for fiscal conservatives.

Debate rages over whether Trump just screwed the pooch by giving the Democrats everything they wanted (and more), or whether he's playing 4th Dimensional Chess and will be able to spend or withhold all that money any way he wants because it was only an "omnibus bill" and not an actual budget. We're waiting to see how this theory plays out, though we're not optimistic by a long shot.

But today, we just want to express our absolute disgust that after all the talk about defunding Planned Parenthood (especially in light of their appalling practices when it comes to slicing and dicing the unborn and selling the parts), the butchers didn't lose a damn nickel.

Nope - 500 million of our hard earned tax dollars are speeding their way into the bloodstained hands of Planned Parenthood to spend on abortions.

With just enough money left over to send large political donations to those in Washington who don't mind spilling the blood of innocents in return for campaign cash.

Friday, March 23, 2018

Sexty Minutes

stilton’s place, stilton, political, humor, conservative, cartoons, jokes, hope n’ change, 60 minutes, stormy daniels, porn, anderson cooper, trump

CBS is already teasing an upcoming 60 Minutes "exclusive interview" with porn star Stormy Daniels, who is dying to tell someone - anyone! - that she had sex with Donald Trump over a decade before he entered politics.

The interview, which has already taken place but not aired, was conducted by incisive newsman Anderson Cooper. Who, according to unnamed 60 Minutes sources, was felt to be "the only man for the job" owing to the fact that he wouldn't be staring at Stormy's knockers the whole time.

We're not entirely sure why this ancient nonsense is even considered a story outside of the undeniably photogenic quality of the aforementioned knockers. Ms. Daniels doesn't claim that she was mistreated, pressured, or harmed in any way during her alleged dalliance...but is angry that she only received a six figure paycheck for keeping her mouth shut, when she now realizes that she can easily get seven figures for opening her mouth. So to speak.

We don't care about this "story" but we do care about its vile intent: to destroy Donald Trump personally (by putting pressure on his marriage) since he appears to be invulnerable politically.

That's low, even by the mainstream media's Mariana Trench-depth standards.


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Apparently taking umbrage at the notion that Donald Trump may have shamed a porn star by doinking her without a camera crew present, Joe Biden barked to a crowd that if he were back in high school, he'd take Trump behind the gym and "beat the hell out of him."

Apparently Biden trotted out this line because it was so successful when he previously used it - virtually word for word - back in 2016. Which is likely the last time he had (or ever will have) what could conceivably pass for an original thought.

Trump, however, responded with a very measured response on Twitter, combining dignity with a frostbite-cold rebuke of Biden...

Just kidding! That's what we wish Trump had tweeted. Instead, we predictably got this...

"He would go down fast and hard, crying all the way"?! We're starting to think that the money being spent on Trump's gravitas lessons is being wasted.


After putting together the Biden cartoon above, our subconscious (or is it the earwig in our brain?) wouldn't stop spitting out additional punchlines. And these just seemed like too much fun to go unseen...

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Wednesday, March 21, 2018

Infernal Revenue Service

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We just finished e-filing our federal taxes for the year, and are now experiencing that indefinable afterglow which is usually felt only by men who dropped their soap in a prison shower. Which we hope won't be our own fate after an audit since we don't actually have much confidence that our tax preparation software is more accurate than feeding our receipts into a meat grinder.

As usual, we found ourselves in the rarified ranks of those who actually have to pay an assload of taxes, which is surprising since our actual income is, as Hillary would say, deplorable.

Not that we're poor, mind you. We've spent a lifetime being thrifty and depositing money into a retirement account which has ripened appreciably over time. But this particular set of circumstances leads to some genuinely weird outcomes at tax time - especially since we took a substantial chunk of money out of the stock market last year to pay for our home remodeling. Oops!

Magically, this single transaction transformed us from being potential food stamp recipients to being members of the most despised group on Earth: the evil rich.

Which brings us to some amusing financial trivia about an average American family we'll call "the Jarlsbergs"...

• Our combined household income (not including the stock sale) from a small business and a pension was actually less than we were required to pay for health insurance last year - even with one person on Medicare!

• After the withdrawal, upon which we had to pay very substantial capital gains taxes, we were also informed that as wealthy bastards we didn't deserve the Obamacare subsidy we'd received last year, so we had to cough up an additional $3500 in taxes to reimburse the government for services we'd never used.

• Based on that same determination, the cost of our Medicare plans went up too. Which came as something as a surprise, since we'd always thought Medicare was sort of a 100% paid for service once one reaches their arthritic golden years. Or at least something for which everyone would pay the same. Ha, ha! The joke's on us!

• Owing to our status as stinking wealth-mongers, we were given zero credit for our charitable donations last year, which included a significant amount of cash and several rooms of furniture. Of course, we didn't make the donations to get tax deductions. We made them to try to buy our way into Heaven.

• Finally, our actual outgoing tax payment to the government was approximately 2500% more than our entire net business earnings for 2017. Yeah, that bolsters the old entrepreneurial spirit!

Of course, our glass is still more than half full; we only owed all those taxes because our stocks grew like Jack's beanstalk on steroids. But we still hate sending our money to a bureaucracy which will only waste it.

On that note, the 1040 form asks us if we'd like to donate $3 to the Presidential Election Fund and gives us only the options of "yes" or "no." We would strongly suggest that next year they add a box saying "Oh, HELL no." It would be the only part of the form we'd actually enjoy filling out.

Monday, March 19, 2018

Getting Into The Weeds

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Some people may wonder, "what is the deeper meaning of Earwigs?"

Simply put, the deeper meaning is that we don't want to just post a picture of an "Out to Lunch" sign when the news muse has forsaken us. After all, people make a significant effort to visit this site, frequently wearing their Sunday best and giving extra attention to their personal hygiene. And so we just wouldn't feel right about giving you nothing but an IOU (unlike the government types who have emptied our entitlement "lockboxes" and filled them with chits. Mostly of the bull and horse variety).

Earwigs began many years ago (predating Hope n' Change, Johnny Optimism, or our awareness that "blogs" would someday be a thing) when we acquired access to a motherlode of antiquated clip art on one of those new-fangled shiny CD things and decided to use some of the images as writing prompts.

The process was to select a not-overtly-funny piece of art (we like a challenge) and then try to generate as many punchlines as possible in order to stretch our creative muscles.

But apart from that pragmatic exercise, this is still what passes for fun in our head. We get a happy little shot of dopamine every time an unexpected punchline suddenly pops into existence (we don't write them so much as wait for them). We're hooked on absurdity, and there's no 12-step program.

Although if there were, the steps would probably look a lot like this:

Friday, March 16, 2018

Forced March Madness

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For those who may not be up to date on the most au courant Hallmark holidays, Wednesday was "National School Walkout Day" - during which students in some school systems were actually compelled to protest, whether they wanted to or not, under the guise of "showing support" for the 17 victims of the nightmarish shooting at Florida's Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School.

Frankly, "showing support" for the victims isn't exactly an act of radical courage - everyone mourns these innocent victims, including the President and every member of the NRA. And yes, everyone would like to assure student safety. So the point of the walkout isn't really to support anyone - but rather to flat out protest against the Constitution in general and the Second Amendment in particular. An amendment which, we'd guess, is not being constructively explained in schools which are preoccupied with lockstep liberalism.

Happily, many school districts threatened consequences for students who went AWOL during class time - but not all of them. Take Rocklin High School in (surprise!) California, where a history teacher, Julianne Benzel, dared to ask her students if it would be equally appropriate for the school administration to support a walkout to protest abortion. Mind you, she didn't discourage her students from participating in the walkout...but she did ask them to actually think.

She was subsequently put on paid suspension because of "several complaints from parents and students involving the teacher's communications regarding the student-led civic engagement activities," which is as ripe a piece of euphemistic liberal baloney as we've heard in a long time.

We'd suggest that in the future, such schools might actually encourage the teaching of history rather than assuring that uneducated students will be doomed to repeat it.


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Technically, that's a tease-shirt
Everyone claims to be Irish on St. Patrick's Day, but we're the real deal - having the blood of a County Cork grandfather coursing through our veins. Albeit not coursing through the official family tree: it seems that grandad "Red," a piano teacher and smooth talker, hit the road immediately after discovering his young piano student (who apparently also got organ lessons) was "heavy with child."

The young girl was quickly transported to another town to secretly give birth (as was the custom back then) and the baby boy was eventually adopted as an "orphan" by her own parents...and raised as her brother with no one the wiser.

That boy became our father - and a great one! And whenever St. Patrick's Day rolls around, we find ourselves thankful that abortion wasn't as easy to obtain all those years ago...because otherwise we wouldn't be here to heft a mug of green beer in honor of our immediate ancestors (be they scoundrels or not).

Best wishes to all for St. Patrick's Day, and here's hoping that if a leprechaun does gift you with a pot of gold, the IRS never finds out about it!

Wednesday, March 14, 2018

Un-sacred Cow

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Okay, this won't go down in the annals of Stilton's Place as our wittiest punchline - but it's the best we could do without actually invoking language which would make a Tourette's patient blush or get us a visit from the Secret Service.

Because we didn't make up the horrible, anti-American crap Hillary is spewing in the panels above. In India to promote her book "What Happened," Russia's favorite uranium saleswoman launched into this tirade to describe the millions of troglodytes who voted for Trump as hateful, misogynistic racists who would actually have to improve to be Deplorables.

If this horrible woman had won the presidency, it seems very likely that every person who visits Stilton's Place would now be in either an internment camp (the lucky ones) or a cemetery (those who committed Arkancide). Because to paraphrase Sally Field, she "really, really hates us."

And frankly, Hillary, the feeling is mutual.


Fortunately, the Secret Cervix was on the scene.
While in India, an allegedly sober Hillary Clinton took roughly her millionth spill while trying to stumble down a simple flight of steps.

Despite her painful, legs-akimbo, "the baby is coming NOW!" position, medical experts have confidence that her vagina will be completely recovered should it decide to run for office again in 2020.

Monday, March 12, 2018

False Idle

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Reaffirming what we already knew about the mainstream media's fawning worship of all things Obama, former New York Times editor Jill Abramson has revealed that she keeps a Barack Obama doll in her purse to handle during times of stress.

"Some people find this strange," Abramson admitted in a rare moment of mental clarity, "but you have to take comfort where you find it in Donald Trump's America."

In other words, not from reduced taxes, business and consumer optimism, and astounding job growth.


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Donald Trump left pretty much everyone dumbstruck last week when he agreed to meet with North Korea's leader, Kim Jung Un, to discuss the possible denuclearization of the nasty little dictatorship.  This was especially surprising considering Trump's strong posture in the face of the rogue nation, and his calling Kim Jung Un every insulting playground nickname in the book.

Hilariously, serial liar and Obama insider (but we repeat ourselves) Susan Rice immediately came forward to suggest that, prior to the meeting, Trump avail himself of the "expertise" which informed the Obama administration.

You know, the expertise that went into Obama's feckless (and fecked up) policy of watching North Korea build increasingly powerful nukes, and ignoring the tiny nation's provocative tests of larger and larger missiles (including one shot in the direction of Hawaii on the 4th of July).

Here at Stilton's Place, we hope that Trump's meeting with Kim will be a complete success, and make the world a little safer.

We also hope that Trump will poke a finger into Kim's tummy to see if he laughs like the Pillsbury Dough Boy.


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We'd TP her home, only it would be redundant.
Senator Elizabeth "Princess Running Gag" Warren has again refused to take a DNA test to settle the issue of whether or not she has an iota of Native American blood in her increasingly visible veins.

Warren insists that she has never benefitted from her claims of Native American heritage, although many believe it helped her land a cushy instructor's job at Harvard Law School. Perhaps because the school subsequently boasted about their newfound racial diversity thanks to adding this near-albino "woman of color" to their faculty.

Although Warren continues to treat her racial heritage as a mystery, she's being fairly transparent about her ambition to possibly run for the presidency (there are rumors that her "Redskin in the White House 2020" bumper stickers have already been printed).

But considering her ludicrous claims of Native American ancestry, we think she should have a reservation or two.

Friday, March 9, 2018

McDonalds Happy Male

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We don't even want to think about the "special sauce."
Yesterday was International Women's Day, which is a perfectly good thing considering how many countries treat their women like livestock, and their livestock like women (you do not want to be a goat in the middle east).

That being said, we found McDonalds' attempt to honor the day more than a little odd, per the cartoon above. Theoretically, the inverted arches form a "W" for "women," but those of a certain mind set (not necessarily a healthy or wholesome mind set) may see it differently. A perspective only encouraged by McDonalds' newest slogan, "I'm lovin' it." Yeah, we'll bet you are!

Still, we don't want to be spoilsports, so we'll acknowledge that McDonalds deserves at least a little credit for giving women the world over a reassuring pat on their sesame seed buns.


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This weekend it's time again to play the "Spring Forward, Fall Backward" game and change all of your clocks so that, in case you somehow managed to avoid getting gutted by this year's flu season, you can still experience a week's worth of exhaustion, nausea, and malaise.

At least, that's how it hits us - and it doesn't matter if it's Spring or Fall (we honestly don't understand the whole forward/backward thing), we always lose an hour or more of sleep and feel like crud for about three weeks.

Still we're sure our sacrifice is worth it to accomplish whatever the hell Daylight Saving Time is supposed to be accomplishing, like giving kids more light to glare at their school buses, or giving farmers an extra hour to try to wake their roosters, or cutting down on prostitution by turning on the street lights later.

Actually, we're not sure what the logic is behind this mess except to sell more coffee. And frankly, Daylight Saving Time, we don't give a damn.

Wednesday, March 7, 2018

Run Down Feeling

Actually, we're feeling just fine but we ran out of time to get much of anything done today. Which is just as well since we really hadn't come up with a red hot joke about Kelly Anne Conway possibly violating the Hatch Act (yawn) by expressing political opinions out loud.

And so we present you with our usual fallback. And in this case, a fall seems almost certain...

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