bizarreville

The President, tired and confused from a busy week, talked today about his upcoming priorities to rein in Wall Street, and implement sweeping climate control legislation to address global warming, or global cooling, whatever it seems to be doing.  But in the course of getting ready for his speech, the teleprompter text got mixed up.  Somehow, the President’s lunch order for Chinese also got fumbled into the mix.  It all went something like this:

Friends, it has become apparent to me that a pressing national priority absolutely must be to put an end to the Wall Street mavericks who are spewing tons and tons of carbon dioxide, creating the greenhouse effect in our world.  On Earth Day, a day we celebrate the greenness of our hundred dollar bills, we can no longer merely accept a passive approach to burning cash and melting down coins just so the investment bankers and squirrelly speculators can eat General Tso chicken and pork fried rice.  It is their irresponsibility that inevitably created the economic crash that caused us to order the Cash for Clunkers program to reduce smog, and eliminate the odor that can come from sweet and sour sauce. 

So we will be taking firm steps to curtail coal-fired electrical power plants, and replace them with clean burning wontons.  There will be tax penalties that will have to be paid by these dirty industries, with proceeds going to help the poor homeless families who have been tossed out via foreclosures and/or failure to pay the delivery charge on their order.  But there will also be incentives for those people at Goldman Sachs and fuel-efficient bankers who continue to support our highest ideals, or at least continue to send me those fat campaign contribution checks (ha, ha).  But seriously, friends, our future, our kids’ futures, and the future of egg foo young are all at stake if we don’t insist on accountability for clean restrooms. 

Therefore, I am directing Congress to immediately pass these laws before our planet gets too warm and our egg-drop soup gets too cold.  It is time for us to act decisively, force all the greedy bankers to be quarantined at Three Mile Island, force all the polluters to eat sushi, and stop all the confusing rhetoric.  I am asking all the freedom-loving kooks who listen to talk radio or read the crazy stuff in blogs like “bizarreville” to cease and desist drinking green tea, and taste this new flavor of KoolAid that I just came across…tastes a little bit like sulfur dioxide.  And remember if we all just walk to our schools, stores, and workplaces we will save enough energy to buy a pu-pu platter.

Thank you, and have a good Moo Goo Gai Pan.

Disclaimer:  all stories in Bizarreville are fiction.

Bizarreville reporters are on the scene in Copenhagen covering news of a mob, roughly estimated at 100 thousand people, marching in protest at the Global Warming conference.  Marchers claim that the weeny-fied global leaders were not doing nearly enough to quell the trend in global warming that will doom our planet.

The frigid weather caused thousands of the disgruntlage to be hospitalized, mostly for frostbite, but some for hypothermia.  Many of the knucklehead-fringe spurned overcoats, and came out in tank tops and bermuda shorts for the benefit of the cameras…apparently to illustrate the parching effect of green house gases.  To further illustrate, they used some “sunburn red” colored spray-on tan goop to give them a Heat Stroke look.  Medical authorities said that this spray crap probably accelerated the onsite of frostbite.  It also seemed to mask the purpleness in their extremities, causing a few finger tips to crumble off.

Several protesters showed up with candles and torches, but the torch-bearers were malled by marchers.  Their torches were quickly commandeered to provide thawing for the iced keisters and frosty jamungas in the crowd.  This sparked-off riots, and police showed up in riot gear and tear gas canisters.  There were many complaints about the tear gas, but the police chief responded, “The tear gas canisters did not emit any greenhouse gas whatsoever when they went off.”

The Leader of the Global Warming protest movement took the stage later in the day to speak to his followers. 

” I am s-s-s-so h-h-happy that you all have j-j-j-joined this critical m-m-m-movement,” he said as his teeth chattered like a 1966 IBM Selectric typewriter.  “Lets-s-s-s not allow this gl-gl-global warm-m-m-ming trend to go unch-ch-ch-challenged.  Geez, does anyone have any friggin’ c-c-c-coffee around this place?  Get a flunky to run over to that S-S-Starbucks there and get me a Venti…make it two…chop, chop.”

The crusty old codgers sitting around the hot stove on a chilly day at the Bizarreville General Store were once again philosophizing about the state of the world.  The topic turned to the latest Climate Gate fiasco.

“It’s about time that moronic Global warming crap has finally been debunked.  Look at these purple fingers, would you.  My keister is so frosty you could instantly chill a PBR between my cheeks.  I can’t stop my dentures from chattering…they’re wanting to walk right out of my mouth.  Feel these ears…on second thought, don’t …you might bust off a piece.”

“Global warming….ha!  I saw that movie by that Gore fella…what was it called?  An Incontinent truth?  If that guy’s not pink, then I’m Mother Teresa.  I think old Gore B. Choff wants to be the next World Enviro-czar, and go around locking the doors on power plant that emit carbon dioxide.  Hey, Comrade Gore, you emit carbon dioxide…how ’bout if we lock your mouth?”

“Yeah, there’s a leader who knows how to walk the walk….as he jet-sets around the world, then takes his Caddy SUV to his 6-gazillion square foot mansion with 8 air conditioning units, 4 hot water heaters, and 13 crappers…then writes an article about how we should all tighten up our portholes and conserve.  Revolution by proxy.  Che Guevara in a 3-piece Armani suit with monogrammed “CG” shift cuffs.  Power to the People, baby. Pass me my decaf latte.  Ciao.”

“The truth is coming out that the science used in these studies may have been a bit flawed, a tad massaged.  Ooops, my calculator spit out the wrong number, not my fault.  I threw that dern thing out, and bought a new one now.  Will do better next time, trust me.”

“Yeah….or, oooops, I thought that was a nine instead of a zero.  I think my poodle must have dropped a little surprise on the data sheet.   My bad.  No dessert tonight.”

“Oooops, my Assistant sneezed on the graph and thought that glob was a real data point.   I put out a memo to all personnel – No more sneezing in the Analytical Lab, or you will be reprimanded.”

The sarcasm was getting pretty obnoxious, so the store manager finally kicked-out the old goats.  They were scaring away real customers.