bizarreville

Wednesday

9:05 am:  Went through the metal detector at the WH.  Was told my boots were too filthy for the WH carpet. Had to go to the restroom to scrub them down.

9:25 am:  I said Hello to the Pork/Earmark Czar in the north hallway, but he just grunted back.  Guess if you’re a “Czar” you don’t have to talk to common people like me.  But now that I think of it, I do remember a little Russian history, and that was true of czars.

9:55 am:  Sprayed the Chief of Staff office.  He stayed on the phone at his desk, so I had to work around him.  I thought I heard a large rat near his closet.  But it turned out to be his Exec Assistant who was making a squeaky noise when he talked.  Man, that was an irritating sound.

10:13 am:  Checked the mouse traps in the cafeteria.  All the cheese was gone, but the traps had not engaged.  I’ll bet one of those punk interns grabbed the cheese yesterday as an afternoon snack.  Probably feels pretty clever that he did it without getting snapped…or maybe he did get snapped, and just reset it to avoid embarassment.

10:47 am:  Sprayed the johns.  All smelled pretty bad.  Who knows what these goofballs eat around here.  Maybe Mexican?  Probably get free meals, compliments of us taxpayers.  I’ll bet they all get free chips and salsa delivered to their office whenever they want it.

11:18 am:  Unable to get into the main meeting room.  These guys just seem to sit in meetings all day.  Sit and talk, talk and sit.  That ain’t work.  Then they leave the meeting to go to another meeting.  They call them briefings.  Does that mean they drop trou and sit around in their skivvys?  Why would they do that?  Seems kind of perverted to me.

12:07 pm:  Broke for lunch.  Ate my salami sandwich while these clowns down the hall are probably eating steak tar-tar.  Reminder:  need to throw out the rest of this loaf of bread.

1:00 pm:  Shot a few hoops at the WH basketball court…until some Secret Service guy told me to leave.  I told him I was just spraying in here.  He called me a liar, and started to call for backup.  So I just left.

2:13 pm:  Inadvertently bumped into some muckety muck in a freshly pressed designer suit while I was spraying the west corridor.  He accused me of getting “pestulant odor” on his suit, and he would have to have it dry cleaned.  I said I was sorry, and I didn’t smell any “pestulant odor” on him.  He just said, “yeah, easy for you to say,” and walked away.

3:00 pm:  Completed my rounds and started heading out.  You know, I could do any of these jobs here.  But things would be different if I was in charge.  First off there would no more meetings, period.  Then I would give the janitors and other service people a 20 percent raise, no make it 25.  I’d have the czars cleaning the toilets, and filling up my office humidor with fresh cigars every day.  Yeah, man, a lot different…..

Disclaimer:  all stories in Bizarreville are fiction.

Nancy Pelosi yesterday ordered all of her liberal colleagues to immediately pick up a copy of the new book, “Karl Marx Unleashed”.  She said that it is high time we stop pissing around, nibbling away at important issues like auto industry nationalization, health care for the proletariate, and jail time for all capitalists.  “It is time for decisive, revolutionary-type action…that’s why the public elected us, and that’s what we are obliged to deliver…and deliver now before all the whackos on the Right have a chance to hose us down and extinguish the liberal flame within us.”

The new book, authored by Elmwood Skank, a professor of Political Science Mythology at Dweeb College, puts a brand new spin on old Karl’s 19th Century ideas.  He points out that Marx was like an Industrial Age Nostradamus, predicting that the working class would get pissed at CEO salaries and bonuses, that capitalism would cause major boom/bust cycles that would devastate so many speculators, and that the New Orleans Saints would eventually win the Super Bowl.  Of course that last prediction requires the reader to take a few interpretive symbolic leaps to make the connection.

But his communist fundamentals, according to Skank, ring true today…including the concept of sharing the wealth, helping the lazy, replacing competition with kumbaya, and disincentivizing initiative that, oh so often, leads to greed.  He invokes the famous Rodney King quote, “why can’t we just get along” to describe the societal problem with police brutalizing people just because they break a few laws here and there, threaten a few people, and terrorize the occasional neighborhood…or a dictator in Iran who just wants to be loved by the world communicty.  Karl Unleashed would get them all together and smoke a peace pipe…4 or 5 puffs and they would all get along just fine, thank you.

Nancy has become so inspired that she has gone to the library and picked up writings from Lenin, Engels, Trotsky, Mao, and Castro to really bone up on Marxist thought, and help her turn it into Action.  She has instructed her colleagues to develop a “Contract with Karl” set of 10 fresh new legislative bills to get this revolution into gear…high gear.  She has tried to not be too prescriptive, but hinted she would like to see things like food rationing, apartment-size equalization, and more public transportation to replace individual cars.

A Republican spokesman was asked to comment, but just shook his head and said “Wow”.

Disclaimer:  all stories in Bizarreville are fiction, even the ones that sound like they could be real.

The President had announced with great fanfare the birth of a new Budget deficit reduction commission…a blue ribbon committee charged with taking a close examination of the deficit and deciding what actions could be taken.

But there was a problem, which staffers inside the White house later described as a cluster F#&*.  The President had privately instructed his Deficit Czar to organize a toothless effort to study deficit reduction.  And naturally, the obedient-to-a-fault Czar started tracking-down and recruiting candidates with no teeth.

He had started with the National Hockey League, particularly with retired players who played in the era when men were men…no helmets, no mouthguards, proud of getting into bloodbaths on the ice and pulling the jersey over an opponent’s head.  These guys proudly displayed their toothless displays as a badge of honor.  But, unfortunately, these fellows, a bit battered from too many slap-shot pucks to the noggin, said they were not interested unless they would hold the committee meetings on the ice.

Next they went to the Bizarreville Affordable Dentures office to do some recruiting in the lobby.  But a lot of these people were only about as smart as a congressman, so could not pass the basic intelligence test.  Plus, the Czar was not sure if people with false teeth truly qualified as “toothless”, and he was just a bit too nervous to ask the President for clarification.

But finally the team managed to scrape together enough toothless wonders to have a meeting, and the cuts began.  The first item to get cut was, as no surprise, all government-sponsored dental care.  All dental programs for government employees, military personnel, and officials would be gone…zip.  Savings would be in the multiple billions.

Next item cut:  Food Stamps.  Their rationale was if people don’t have food, they can go to the soup kitchens like the rest of us.  Or they can just make their own soup, just like grammaw used to do.  More billions.

Third cut:  All earmarks.  No one at the toothless table knew what an earmark was.  So they just cancelled them all.  More billions.

The Gummers started going nuts on all the frivolous spending on National Endowment of the Arts, studies of Polar Bear mating habits in Alaska, embryonic stem cell research, and Acorn – whatever the hell that is.  They cut out Medicaid completely but agreed to provide each current Medicaid recipient with a bottle of Vicks VapoRub to help with the transition. 

In the end, the Toothless Deficit Commission cut out hundreds and hundreds of little streams that were flowing into Pisswater Channel, and figured out how to balance the whole budget without a tax increase.  But when they presented their study to the President, he looked puzzled and dumbfounded.  All he could say was, “Ahhh…errr…ummm…duh…I mean….hmmmmm.”  But the President thanked the committee for their good work, complimented them on their wholesome “rural beauty”, but indicated that he had to leave for a security briefing in 5 minutes as he gave them the bum’s rush.

He gently placed the study into File 13 on his way out the oval office door.

Disclaimer:  all stories in Bizarreville are fiction, even the ones that seem pretty darn real.

Senator Evan Bayh from Indiana announced his plans to retire from the Senate, sending a shock wave across the Democratic side of the aisle.  At one time he was a formidable presidential candidate, and on a short list of contenders for Obama’s VP slot.  But his biggest flaw was that he was the voice of reason and common sense, traits that simply could not be tolerated, nor reconciled with the Giga-Lib agenda.

Bayh said that he was sick and tired of sucking up to the knuckleheads on the Left, whom he claims “seem to have left the Planet Earth to explore brave new worlds”.  He indicated he is also fed up with the chicken s#!# in the Senate when just trying to do simple stuff.  “You need to schedule a caucus to cut a fart around here.”

The crowning blow was when he decided to vote for the whacky Obamacare health bill, against his better judgement and intuition…then found himself vomitting over the stool later that evening.  He said it reminded him of the time he drank a quart of Ripple wine followed by a quart of Schlitz Malt Liquor while back in college. 

But he also said that the nonsense about Cap & Tax, the faux Jobs bill, and the secret plans to takeover the Breakfast Cereal industry…supposedly because Corn Flakes just aren’t crunchy enough anymore… was more than Bayh could take.  “Does this kookiness ever have an end?” Bayh questioned, rhetorically.

Bayh also indicated that he had seen a doctor who had diagnosed him with Demagogue Fatigue Syndrome.  This is a little known affliction which can crop up when a politician has just heard enough BS to the point his ears start to turn brown.  The only cure is to get far away from Washington, DC.

Democratic party leadership had no official comment beyond saying that he was whole on his coffee dues, and always paid his Super Bowl office pool bets on time.  But privately, Dem insiders said that they look forward to putting forth a first-class candidate, Oliver Spunkle.  Spunkle is a professor who teaches Marxism and Crocheting at Indiana University, is a staunch vegetarian, has never held a real job, and still wets the bed.  “We think Indiana voters will vote for him because of his affiliation with IU and because he had played basketball at his small-town Indiana high school,” the insider commented.

Opponents point out that Spunkle played on a team that went 0-20 his senior year, only had 6 players on the whole team, and Spunkle rode the bench.  But of course that was before he became a vegetarian.

Disclaimer:  all stories in Bizarreville are fiction, even the ones that seem real.

To break the monotony of wraggling over bills, Congress has adopted a fun little internal game that they will be playing with themselves.  It’s called “I’m more bipartisan than you”.  Each congressperson will amass points between now and November whenever they do something that shows bipartisanship.  Of course the difficulty and excitement in the game is that no one there really knows what bipartisanship really means.  So it will be hilarious to see how they stumble and bumble trying to figure out how the points system works, and then conniving games on how to score points.

Now the rules of the game are as follows.  Every time a congressperson tells an opposing member “that’s a great idea”, he/she gets one point.  It can be recognizing a great idea on a landmark bill, or discovering a new way of washing his hands after going to the poddy.  It cannot be sarcasm (i.e. that’s a “great” idea), although the cleverest members may find ways to sneak some sarcasm into the dialog without the unclever, mind-numb opposing member even realizing it.

The congressperson will get 2 points if they have had a meaningful discussion with an opposing member to try to resolve a persnickety disagreement on a bill.  Points, however, will not be awarded if the person makes disparaging comments about his grandmother, makes inaccurate comments about certain body dimensions, or uses the F-word in describing what actions the opposing member can do with himself.

They will get 3 points if they actually find common ground with an opposing member.  Naturally, all feel that these points will be rarely given out.  It’s not even clear that most of these hardheads even know what common ground means, so it will be especially difficult for any of them to know it if they see it.  But points are theoretically available to the rare few who might take the time to probe and reconcile true desires of each side…or, more likely, the rare few who stumble upon common ground by sheer accident.

Finally, they will get 5 points if they actually come to a written bonefide agreement on an issue with an opposing member.  A panel will question both members to make certain that they really agree and are not just pretending to agree to get extra points.  Laughing or spit-takes during the panel questioning will put grave doubt on the authenticity of the agreement.  And if found to be faked, it will cause both players to lose 5 points, and furthermore, both members will be forced to listen to House floor speeches for 3 solid days in a row as additional punishment.

No points will be awarded for “compromise” agreements, where both sides feel like they lost in the deal.  Anyone caught compromising in this manner will be given a travelling stuffed toy duck that just quack, quack, quacks all day.  The Quacker will be required to be kept on the Quackee’s desk for the next 24 hours.

The winner of the “I’m more bipartisan than you” contest will receive an upgrade to his seat in the congressional chamber to a La-Z-Boy Sleepmaster XF…so that if he/she is going to be bored, at least it will be a comfortable boredom.  The seat has an optional vibration unit that can be energized when the House is set for a vote…or the unit can be switched off entirely to prevent sleep interruption.

The Bizarreville TV Network is proud to be piloting a new TV series next week, called The Grumpler.  Modeled after the successful “The Bachelor” program, the new series will feature the grumpiest liberal congressman.  Casting will find one who is most upset about not not getting their statist/socialist government-control agenda passed…one who is genuinely ornery and about ready to go postal over the farting around in the Obamacare passage or other feet-dragging in government takeover of the economy.

The TV series will then bring 25 hookers onto the show to find new, creative ways to cheer him up.  He will then start narrowing down the field, week by week.  But the secret to the show is that he will actually be looking for the contestant who aggravates him the most in her feeble attempt to change his surly mood.  Any pro who makes him smile or laugh, as unlikely as that seems, would most likely be ushered onto the nearest limo for her trip home.

Elmer Smudd, the Executive Producer, figures the hookers will catch on to the “secret” pretty quickly, and may soon do all they can do to piss him off.  Smudd thinks this transition will be hilarious to their target audience, comprised of men and women who think 99% of all TV programming is pure crap (pretty big target market as it turns out).  Obscenities are likely to be flying, but will all be bleeped out so as not to offend the kids who have never heard that kind of language before.

Rather than a traditional rose ceremony, the lib congressman will cut off the top of the rose and give the thorny stem to the lucky girls who will continue, and move on to next week’s challenge.  He’ll keep the top for himself.

Each week’s show will feature new intriguing venues that are disgusting, revolting, reprehensible in their own right to help create the right mood.  Boring football games on cold rainy days, PBS pledge drive studios, Chuck E. Cheese, Mount Trashmore landfills, economic debriefing rooms, and book readings at book fairs will be among the chosen destinations.

The Winner will get to become the congressman’s Top Aide until the congressman gets thrown out of office, either by election, by sheer incompetence, or by impeachment.  The losing hookers will not leave empty handed.  Each will be given a new wardrobe designed by Streetwise Sleaze of Hollywood, the leader in upscale trashiness, and a one year’s supply of Tootsie Pops.

Smudd thinks the show will be a hit.  He looks forward to casting The Grumplette for next season’s shows.

The President announced that he has scheduled a meeting with Republicans in Congress to air out their ideas on health reform.  He also indicated that he will be using the newly released Bumco “Deaf Ear Listener” unit during the meeting to help get him through the meeting he described as “potentially excuciatingly boring and anti-productive”.

The Deaf Ear Listener(DEL) is an innovative new product that appears to be ideal for Democrats in government.  It is a very small unit that fits snugly in each ear, camouflaged to look like excess ear wax buildup.  The DEL effectively blocks the wearer from hearing any external sound, while a small chip inside the unit gently plays “The Best of Bread” songs inside his/her ears.  It just came out and sells for $59.95 a set, but there is already a hefty order backlog.

Inside sources say that the President will maintain a pensive, thoughtful look on his face to make it look like he is actually listening to the Republicans.  A reporter asked about what the President will do if someone asks him a question.  “Simple,” the White House spokesman replied.  “He will just give some canned response that will have nothing whatsoever to do with the question asked…basically just like he does now.  It is doubtful that anyone will know the difference.”

The insider said it is important for it to look like the President is listening to contrary ideas, especially in front of cameras.  “But at the same time, all that squealling and chattering could potentially stress the President out…may even cause him to lose his appetite at dinner.  The DEL is an excellent choice to protect his health and well-being.  More American ingenuity at work!”

Disclaimer:  all stories in Bizarreville are fiction, even the ones that seem pretty real.

The government of Haiti, desperately trying to deal with the horror of the earthquake that hit their poor country, is now struggling with how to manage help from outsiders.  The latest flap has to do with the 10 Baptist missionaries who arrived to offer help to many stranded children, but were later accused of kidnapping the children and unceremoniously hauled off to jail.  They were all kept under tight lock and key when it was found out that several of the missionaries had been previously guilty of various traffic violations, jaywalking incidents, sneezing without covering their noses, and wearing orange on St. Patricks Day.

This unfortunate incident has caused the Haitian government to begin to question all the aid coming into the country, and whether some of the so-called aid is going to be really good for the country.  For example, the government has done intensive investigations and found that much of the donated water is plain tap water, not spring-fed water.  Much of the donated beer is light beer, with almost no taste.  Cases and cases of Coke have arrived on its shores, but it turns out that over half of it is Diet Coke.  Boxes and boxes of Chicken McNuggets have arrived, and no one seems to be able to ascertain what kind of food is in these things.

And it gets worse.  Volunteers have arrived supposedly bringing medical supplies.  But, the drugs being brought in are not the good, brand-name drugs…they are Generic Drugs, that’s right…thousands and thousands of bottles of plain old generic drugs.

“What are we…not good enough for you?”  a Haitian government spokesman cried.  “Do you wish to turn us from a 3rd world country into a 4th world country?  Light beer?  Is that all that we mean to you…to the world?  What will you send us next…a crew of 1-legged construction workers to help us rebuild our cities?”

The Haitian government is taking a harder look at donations, aid, and help from all sources.  Unfortunately, some of it will have to be turned around, and sent back.  Meanwhile its citizens are suffering, and beginning the question the wisdom of their leaders.

 The US State Department had no comment on the missionaries situation, but said they are trying to find a processed chicken parts alternate.

Disclaimer:  all stories in Bizarreville are totally fiction.

Ben Nelson, the infamous Democratic senator from Nebraska, has been getting booed when he goes into any restaurant in his home state.  Last weekend, he was sneered at and pummeled with cold pizza by a bunch of 8-year olds when he tried to sneak into a Chuck E. Cheese for a quick dinner and game of Skee-Ball.  The day before, he was denied purchase of a large popcorn just before watching the movie Avatar from a kid behind the counter who refused to touch his soiled money.

Nelson knows he has got some bridges to unburn since his illogical decision to accept bribery to vote for the Obamacare bill.  Folks back home don’t cotton to that kind of squirrelliness.  So yesterday he announced he would join the Republican filibuster of Craig Becker, nominated by the Communists for a seat on the National Labor Relations Board.  He knows that, with Nebraska’s tradition of being a Right to Work state, the public would crucify him even further if he didn’t start giving some modicum of impression that he was representing his constituents.

Old Ben knows that Becker favors the Employee Forced Choice Act (EFCA).  This is a bill being debated in Congress, which would totally remove secret balloting for unionization, and open the doors for union thugs, creeps, and dirtbags to make workers offers ‘they can’t refuse’ to join unions.  The proposed law would also prescribe a set of anti-business rules, whackings, and penalties sure to dry up job growth…what little there is.

Ben has heard that Becker has other nutty ideas.  He has pushed for the Sleepers Rights bill, which would allow workers to konk out on the job without fear of repercussion.  “Hey, we all get tired, especially after tying one on the night before,” Becker said, speaking at the Left Wing Jumblebrain Association’s national convention, to wild cheers from the crowd.  “What’s wrong with a little shut-eye on the job?  You’ve done it, I’ve done it, we’ve all done it.  I konked out for an hour and a half on the crapper one time in 2002 after a tough night of margaritas.”  If passed, the new law would allow all workers 25 minutes in the morning and 45 minutes after lunch to doze off at full pay, plus another 30 minutes of optional sleep-time at half-pay.  Becker has said that most workers wouldn’t take all that time every day, but if they needed it, they would have it…without fear of losing their jobs.  When asked a follow-up question, an Aide had to nudge Becker to wake up.

Nelson stands by his rejection of Becker, but has said he might reconsider his vote if Harry Reid comes forward with some new sweetheart bribe for him and his family.  He has suggested that the Caribbean is nice this time of year.  Insiders say that Reid is booking him on a trip to Haiti.

Disclaimer:  all stories in Bizarreville are fiction, even the ones that seem pretty darn real.

The medical community is still befuddled over the continuing spread of the Palin-ophobia epidemic which has hit liberal circles and conclaves very hard.  The outbreak seems to be hitting the liberal punditry particularly hard, who have been seen trembling and stammering by the few people who actually watch them on TV.  Lib leaders are nervous that their solid media network is coming unglued and rattled by each of Palin’s trivial acts, and causing them to lose focus on the business at hand:  Spending Money Fast.

The latest phobia panic came when Palin addressed a National Tea Party convention in Nashville, and had written some notes to herself on the palm of her hand.  Naturally, the phobiacs went into hyper-freak.  “I stopped doing that kind of stuff in high school after my fifth detention for cheating on tests,” a Democratic inner-city congressman admitted.  “I finally had to memorize who the First president of the U.S. was….Washington, wasn’t it?”

It is nervous times for the Libs, and they want answers to deal with Palin-ophobia before it is too late.  They have gone to the government-funded Medical Research Boondogglery Commission to try and find research studies that have analyzed syndromes like Palin-ophobia.  But the Boondogglery has found nothing quite like this, although they did find interesting psychological studies of the mating practices of long-term civil service employees…with pictures.

Meanwhile, the jittery Lib leaders are pursuing possible medication alternatives to help calm them down.  They have tried to make a case for being able to obtain medical marijuana in California, but even the whacko doctors out there have refuse to prescribe it for Palin-ophobia.  “I think those reefer-brains are just making an excuse to get some cheap dope,” one doctor speculated.

With the increasing amount of misinformation, misinterpretation, and outright lying going on today, it is hard for our citizens to know what is true and what is not.  Here is Part One of a guide to help in the translations:

You can keep your existing Health Care program.  Translation:  Your employer will be given an option to keep the existing, outrageously expensive health care programs for its employees , or to bail-out and let the government pick up the whole tab.  Hmmmmm…I wonder which way they will go?

This program will not add to the National Debt.  Translation:  It will not add to the national debt of Bulgaria, Yemen, or Outer Flambobia.  It most certainly will add to the National Debt of the US.

We will only increase tax on really rich people.  Translation:  Of course, anyone who has a job, a nice family, a home, food on the table is certainly rich and fulfilled in their life.  Yes, it means YOU.  You are rich.

Lobbyists had no influence on my decision making.  Translation:  The free trip to Cancun, with dinners at 5-star restaurants, and free flowing champagne were very entertaining and enjoyable.  But I have perhaps the strongest willpower on earth, and am able to separate these lavish goodies from doing my business.  But, as it turns out coincidently, I was going to vote that way anyway.

I am not an ideologue.  Translation:  I am a credentialed ideologue with fairly extreme views, who now senses my views are opposite of what common sense people want.  I now know that I must be much, much more clever in disguising my kooky views and whacky ideas.

We must become energy independent from Mideast oil.  Translation:  Soccer moms, stop buying SUVs and start walking to the soccer field with Junior.  If it’s too far to walk, drop out of soccer, and let him play with a hula hoop.

There will be no more Earmarks.  Translation:  We will need to come up with a different name for these pork-barrel cash drainers that piss away the nation’s wealth.  How about calling them ‘Shlonkulators’ next session?  That’ll confuse ’em.

I feel your pain.  Translation:  I understand the concept of pain but probably do not fully know what is hurting you.  But if you were to grab a baseball bat and hit me in my tender zone, I believe I could better empathize.  Go ahead, swing away.

The government does not create jobs, entrepreneurs do.  Translation:  I have a dark, ulterior motive and hidden agenda for saying something I clearly do not believe in.  I figure that I can say one thing and do another, and you’ll probably not catch it.  After all, you have to admit, I’m pretty smart…and, well, you’re not.

Just think how much worse it would have been if we hadn’t stepped in and implemented our program.  Translation: Okay, yes, it was a stupid program.  It accomplished nothing, probably did more harm than good.  But we sensed you wanted us to do SOMETHING, even if it was something stupid.  There were probably 1000 other things we could have done, 998 of which would have turned out better than this one.  Too bad we didn’t pick one of those to do.  Too late now.

We hope that this translation guide helps our readers better understand politician-speak.  We will publish more translations, as needed, in the future as a public service.

The recent fumbles and missteps by officials in handling terrorist suspects by inadvertently treating them as full US citizens prompted the Justice Department to clarify Miranda rights issues for disgusting terrorist types.  They decided that some special language might be the appropriate path forward.  A final draft is still in the making, but a copy has been leaked out to garner some initial public reaction.  Here is the draft text:

“You have the right to remain silent, until you decide that you have finally had enough waterboarding, Chinese water torturing, and listening to Abba records 24/7, and are ready to spill some beans.  When (not if, but when) you give up your stubbornness to remain silent, anything and everything you say will be held against you, your buddies, and family members in a military court of justice, using a special code of justice for scumbags such as yourself.  It will not be pretty.  You will not have the right to an attorney, but the court will appoint an advocate to present your weak case and lame arguments.  This person will be selected from the Skid Row homeless shelter and soup kitchen inhabitants du jour.  If you are unhappy with the selection, you will be permitted to go have a conjugal visit with yourself.  Do you understand these rights, or do we need to bring in Igor to beat the crap out of you to help unplug your wax-filled ear canals?  What do you say, ya’ punk?”

Critics have argued that using Igor’s name as a heavy-handed thug type might seem offensive to people of Eastern European descent.  They have suggested ‘Larry’ as an alternate, but the Mirandize wordsmiths don’t feel that name delivers quite the same punch.

Disclaimer:  all stories in Bizarreville are fiction.