HO hey HO hey HO, Merry…

COVFEFE Morning: As you nestle in for a long winter’s…it’s the day before Christmas so no rest yet, grab the car keys and hit the Mall madness. OK, I have been stalled in traffic for 3-hours. No NOT sidelined by road-rage wait your Round-About turn, but patiently waiting in line at Cozy’s Coffee Corner. I just want a “simple” cup of high-octane “Black Coffee” - but like “Tax Reform”, all these designer drinks take the charisma out of “keep it stupid simple”. Amazing, these cardboard coffee cups we find such an attractive addiction – must be in the water. See, these cups that entertain our fascination to be endowed with a legitimate “caffeine” fixture addiction have a personality all unto its own. “Recycled Consumer Products” is usually printed in “find me” print, or words to the effect that which makes us feel “cozy”, a Portnoy Putin-Clockwork Orange Trump relationship. OK, modern day WWTP 101 – Waste Water Treatment Plant! Not only with the Girl Scouts, but Modern Man has found a way to make extra cash through “cake sales”? See with RCP, it means stuff that finds its origin flushed down the toilet drain which then makes its way via underground sewerage pipelines to that local WTTP. Using “flocculation” techniques – a.k.a. floater patrol – well the surface scum is separated, as it is mostly decaying paper products from the daily TP disposal ritual upon the Throne and of course “Tampons” are included in this soon to be “value added product”. Gross yes, but this stuff is retrieved and pressed into “cakes” void of any moisture and sold to recyclers which then sell it to a paper product manufacturer who then sells it to a paper cup outfit and all along its merry way maintains the “Green” stamp of approval. When we see something with “Made from Recycled Materials” we feel good inside! Now this toilet matter is processed to cause no harm, just don’t let your teething child eat the cup. Wow, the aroma from this cup of mean Joe, time to go shopping. My Christmas shopping list has been “simplified”, in concert with the new “Tax Reform”. Sad, that we see on December 22^nd H.R.1 signed by the MORON. Hey, if Rex can call the MIA president by this qualifier, so can I as an Ex-CEO of EXXON knows the proper etiquette about invitations, just ask Joe Hazelwood. What’s that sound, “Land Ahoy”! Look, we pay our Congress $174000 bucks a year and because that body enjoys a truancy rate only one-half that of the MORON…it means a boatload of cash for a few days worth of work and only a single bill passed? I hope the new “Tax Code” has an entry wherein “We the People” can get a rebate from members of Congress when they don’t perform – what a concept. Guaranteed or your money back! Now that “1” in that H.R., it stands for a single action for the 115^th U.S. Congress. Pathetic, so be it when I am lost for words!  But the “Tax Reform”, it does NOT simplify the IRS “Enforcement Code” by any stretch of the IMAGINATION. Now even though some on the “other side of the isle” complained about a bill that was over 1000-pages and thoughtlessly handed out right before “Truancy” time off again, this now law-of-the-land H.R.1 is in reality only 158-pages long, as it all depends on how one sets-up “Word”. And if still using Kaspersky on your “Flat Earth” device, anything that was included in this “Bill of Goods” that allows Russian interference the next election is redacted. Small print, confusing print, recycled “consumer” print – no matter what this rushed-to-judgement legislation amounts to 10-pounds of sewerage in a 1-pound leaking tote bag. The trail left by Congress in a hurry leaving town is leaving behind a stench, it stinks! In perspective this “Bill”, 322316-bites, ouch that hurts and 77000 words, yet to be proof-read by the White House. Hey what can you expect as “Preschools Out for the Winter”. On another note. What best recipe defines the MORON’s expedition? OK, like the “simplified” Tax Reform Haven, only 2-ingrediants necessary. So, for Christmas, depending on your Mnuchin Man status, it means a “lump of coal” or a “lump of gold”. So, this Humbug “Tax Reform”, it should be re-titled as H.R.1 the “Delusional Disorder Tax Relief Shelter for Mr. Scrooge”. I tried a truce with the MORON, sent him and the royal family a “Peace Sign”, hoping he would return the same gesture. NOTHING. But I will give him the benefit of dunce doubt, that his upbringing didn’t find time for an understanding of the “peace” symbol and or its authenticity as it pertains to “Patriotism”. See, during that time most of us were engaged in protecting “My Country ‘Tis of Thee”, Donald was being taught the rules of the road by his Father Fred and instead of attending “Peace” protests, it meant KKK birthday parties. And instead of passing out “Tidings of Comfort & Joy” this time of year many silent nights ago, residents of “Beach Haven” were getting a different kind of present, an eviction notice if they were “Black”. Trump Tower owned residential property in Beach Haven NY City and had a clause in its apartment rental agreements – “If you’re black you might as well not show up on the street unless you want to draw the heat”. This is the man who sits before US as…well nothing short a MORON defines this moment and pathetic disregard what this country is supposed to be all about. And if anybody out there still does not have an understanding that “We the People” were robbed of an election and have a monster at the helm, without conviction to uphold the U.S. Constitution, maybe that cardboard cup is affecting your brain’s capacity, just too much “crap”. So tonight, instead of “Twas the night before Christmas”, how about ‘Twas the night before eviction”:

I suppose that Old Man Trump knows just how much racial hate
He stirred up in that bloodpot of human hearts
When he drawed that color line
Here at his Beach Haven family project

Beach Haven ain't my home!
No, I just can't pay this rent!
My money's down the drain,
And my soul is badly bent!
Beach Haven is Trump’s Tower
Where no black folks come to roam,
No, no, Old Man Trump!
Old Beach Haven ain't my home!

I'm calling out my welcome to you and your man both
Welcoming you here to Beach Haven
To love in any way you please and to have some kind of a decent place
To have your kids raised up in.
  
Beach Haven ain't my home!
No, I just can't pay this rent!
My money's down the drain,
And my soul is badly bent!
Beach Haven is Trump’s Tower
Where no black folks come to roam,
No, no, Old Man Trump!
Old Beach Haven ain't my home!