Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Whine and Cheese

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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

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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?!

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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

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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."

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"Seriously, what the Hell was I thinking?" President adds.

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Students expected to walk out to protest space exploration.