Friday, April 12, 2024

Foley's Tails from Rainbow Bridge: About that eclipse


All I wanted was a new bench for my chambers.

I ordered it from Judges’r’us and paid a premium to have it delivered. My mistake was hiring three bears movers without reading their motto: “You pack it, we break it and blame someone else.”

Luckily, they did not break my new bench. They just used their wings to bring it to the roof and left it there.

We were working late. I had my old bench removed that morning and I was facing being like the 1984 Cincinnatti Reds without their recently retired Hall of Fame catcher: Benchless.

The only way to get my bench to my courtroom was to have Pocket and River move it. They both balked, saying it was too heavy, but nothing is too heavy fan an angel, except eating a half dozen chocolate donuts before bed.

I told them to put it on their backs and slowly fly down to my office window where I would wait. They complained it was too bulky to move, but I told them they could do it.

I ran down to my office, looked out the window, and saw they couldn’t do it. They had lost control of the bench, which was rising, with them on top of it, to the sun.

Then I got a call from Ruby saying her Dallas friends told her that it suddenly became dark in the middle of the day, and I realized my sister had moved the bench in front of the sun.

Slowly, spreading across the heartland of America, my sisters, and my bench were causing an eclipse. The humans, not willing to accept two smallish dog angels, moving another one’s judge’s bench, could turn day to night.

Then over the Atlantic, my sisters dropped my desk into the ocean, and then tried to blame me, saying I should have known what would happen.

I ordered another bench and made sure neither bears nor dogs were allowed to move it.

The good news was that all the cases before me the next day were contested by angels too consumed with the eclipse to notice I was making my rulings behind a pool table.

Another in my long line of judicial embarrassments,


Thursday, April 11, 2024

Poetry Thursday

Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton gave us a picture for inspiration

Daddy said get the kids together we are going to the beach.

I grabbed my flip flops, my towel, anything I could reach.

But when we arrived I was left without speech

The only fish who could survive in this water would be a leach.


Mama said: “I thought we were going to someplace nice,

Not a patch of sand being watched by police vice.”

“There is nothing wrong,” Papa said “push away the grease.

And don’t drink the water or your dysentery will never cease.”


They stepped between the broken bottles and a discarded flat tire.

And tried not to hear the sound of sporadic gunfire.

But wading into the water they saw the quagmire.

Because the water lapping the beach was on fire.


“Let’s all go for a swim,”

Daddy said, most dim.

His son was texting cousin left-handed Tim

To tell him he recognized, floating by, his missing limb.


“I don’t understand, you all wanted to go to the beach,” Papa said.

His wife answered sharply “we wanted to go somewhere that we didn’t have to share a blanket with the dead.”

Papa reminded her they conceived their son on this beach the night they were wed.

She answered “that is why he has three nipples, one testicle, half a kidney and a thumb growing out of his forehead.”


She told the kids they would not be swimming there today

The beach had been closed by the EPA.

From the beach they quickly drove away

And three days later they needed their privates to receive an x-ray.


The family never returned to that part of the shore

And the mother lived the rest of her life indoor.

One daughter became a nun, the other a whore

While the son grew to resemble a minotaur

Tuesday, April 9, 2024

Beat This Caption

 "You listen to me Henry, I am tied of you going out alley catting all night, the litter box needs to be clean, we are low on mice, and the only thing in the ice box is your catnip. Are you listening to mel? Henry? Henry?"

Henry's plan to get away for a few hours worked to perfection. 

Monday, April 8, 2024

Beat This Caption

 What are you told not to do most frequently?

I am told not to get on the kitchen chairs and eat my parents meal as soon as they stand up

Sunday, April 7, 2024

The Ruby Rose Report: Where is spring?


I have been waiting for April since the days became shorter and colder. I could put up with the frigid temperatures, and conditions which made a dog (Pocket’s editor’s note: “A fragile dog”) stay inside.

April came on a Monday.

I had a less satisfactory day than her.

Despite it being the beginning of April, it was cold, raw, and unpleasant. Like underwear from TEMU it did not arrive as advertised.

In fact, it has not arrived at all leaving me stranded in an endless winter of despair.

I visited Angel River in my dreams and asked her if she knew where spring was. She told me spring was as unreliable as a 16-year-old cheerleader working the drive thru at Dunkin’ Donuts to pay for camp. 

Like a child watching the sun rise on Christmas morning without a Santa visit I was worried that spring had passed us over like Fredo.

I began looking around the house for it, but there was no sign of spring. I asked Mrs. Haversham and Dora, my downstairs at borders if they had chased away spring. “I sleep on old insulation near your HVAC unit while the rain puddles around us,” Mrs. Haversham said. “If I saw spring approaching I would greet it with a big kiss.”

I decided not to remark that kissing everyone she saw was what led her to being an unwed mother sleeping under a house.

I asked my friends around the country, and they have not seen spring. The southwest has an eternal heatwave, not the 65-degree sunny day that was promised.

I have issued an Equinox Alert for spring. I asked if it’s put on the back of milk cartons, but I guess because of the environment they are obsolete.

I am worried it is part of a plan to rob us of spring, which schemed with the climate to do away with milk cartons, the most reliable way to find souls who wish to stay hidden.

We must act together. If anyone sees any signs of spring like rabbit droppings, dew on the grass, budding flower, and people watching baseball games not dressed for the bleacher seats at the Iditarod please contact me so we can bring the shy spring to show itself before the broiling heat of summer burns the grass before it had a chance to grow.

Together we can make American warm again.






Friday, April 5, 2024

Foley's Tales from Rainbow Bridge: King


A brief time before Easter the King arrived at Rainbow Bridge.

He left behind a devastated family, where he served as protector, best friend, child, clown, and the one soul who never let anyone down.

As a mortal dog King was perfect.

And now he will be a perfect angel.

His mom, Emilia, took from him all his pain, and suffering, before letting him go, so he could be met by his predecessors, and play with them liake a puppy.

The more you love a soul that went to the Bridge the more you hurt, and Momma Emilia is facing her greatest pain. She knows King is young again, that he is happy, and they will meet again, but it doesn’t mitigate the pain. Sadly, it is possible to feel good for, and mourn someone at the same time.

Now Momma Emilia has a most powerful angel looking over her. She may not notice, the speeding car she barely avoids, the house spared in bd weather, the illnesses not contracted. King will keep his move safe from all, except the pain caused by this transition.

But, over time King will fix this too.

It is overwhelming work.

But Momma Emiliana will get it done.

Because she has the Angel King on her side.



Thursday, April 4, 2024

Poetry Thursday


Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton gave us a picture for inspiration

It was a very sad day.

When Humpy Dumpty fell off the wall

Mournes lined up for hours, they say.

And toasted his memory at the drinking halls.


Humpy was an amicable chap.

And all the town folk could speak of was the horrible accident.

He never considered being an egg in the human world a handicap.

And now he was a yellow stain on the cement.


Humpy was born in a strange circumstance.

His dad fertilized his mom’s egg.

And what were the chances?

He stayed that way when he was born, a mystifying segue.


But soon Humpy was treated the same.

He got a job got married and had a child.

Becky Sue was her name.

And she was quite wild.


She was born a normal child but emulated her father.

She dressed in a shell and yelled at townsfolk from the wall.

Her mother asked Humpy if it wouldn’t be a bother.

To sit with Becky Sue and keep her from insulting people starting a brawl.


Their afternoons on the wall brought father and daughter together.

They would talk, laugh and share a wise crack.

But that day she did something she would never forgive herself altogher.

Because after a cutting remark Becky Sue slapped Humpy on the back.


Becky Sue hoped the authorities would be satisfied,

That, with for an answer she did provide

That she had nothing to hide

But they still charged her with patricide.





Tuesday, April 2, 2024

Monday, April 1, 2024

Monday Question

 How large a trip hazard are you?

Tripping Man | ClipArt ETC

I am a very high trip hazard.

I closely follow my parents. When they turn around they often tip over me.

Friday, March 29, 2024

Friday Fill-Ins


Finally the Ruby has come back to Fill in the Blanks. My statements are in red. 

1. I hope my Easter basket has abortion pills (because people will pay big money for them if they become illegalin it.

2. March has been like sitting in the back seat of your parents' car stuck in a traffic jam,in your wet swim suit wrapped in a damp towel when the air conditioner cranked up to high. Cold, wet,snd going nowhere.
3. If there ever was a time to move to a small Canadian fishing villiage bordering the Northwear passage with three house of daylight a day, it’s now.   

4. I have built a bomb shelter under the house in preparation for the Presidential election, and that is only for if a candidate I support wins. 

Thursday, March 28, 2024

Poetry Thursday


Once again, Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have provided us with a photo for Poetry Thursday.

Here is this week's entry and my poem.

All day Tommy and Suzie could play with his toys

And no one mattered if they made noise

They could scream until they were out of breath

Because theit parents were hooked on Crystal Meth

The kids did what he wanted all day

Their comatose dad had nothing to say

And his wife’s mother skills were south of Lady MaBeth

She has a monkey on her back called Crystal meth

Tommy was not going to school

And the district didn’t want 11 years hence to graduate another fool

They arranged a home visit

And found the parents unconscious on the couch surrounded by paraphernalia society did prohibit

Their parents vowed to get clean

After their friends did intervene 

There would be less drugs and more hugs

And the house be free of drug dealing thugs.

The kids were placed with their sweet grand mom

Who was only addiction was Big Red cinnamon gum

But if there was a difference the kids were not aware

Because right after supper grandmom was asleep in her chair

In six weeks the parents completed rehabilitation 

And vowed to provide the kids the foundation for a good education 

The kids were back home where there were now strict rules

No playing inside or out until they completed all the work assigned by the school

After a year a party was held to recognize their achievement

But to Tommy it was a time of bereavement 

And he took a moment and to the crowd did vent his spleen 

Saying like was more fun when his parents were hooked on Methamphetamines

Monday, March 25, 2024

Monday Question

 Do you eat all your food everytime it is put down in front of you or do you leave a little behind?

Do you skip meals?

I have been known to leave some food on the plate for the kitchen staff.

I rarely miss a meal.

Sunday, March 24, 2024

The Ruby Rose Report: Old Dogs, No Tricks


Mortal humans aren't aware, but all species have Presidents who meet in the dream world to settle problems between animals.

Charles has been dog President for ten years since he was four years old. He has done a great job. He is kind and wise and puts the well-being of all dogs first. However, the rules say that a president needs to be mortal, and Charles got sick and stepped down before going to the Bridge.

It has been so long since we have had an election, and all the good candidates have also gone to the Bridge. There are only two members of Charles' cabinet still on the mortal side: Hunter, a German Shephard, and Koltsov, a French Bulldog.

Hunter is 17, and Koltsov is 18. Foley visited me in my dreams, concerned that the two candidates' combined age is human years older than their country's. She asked me to vet the two candidates. I was honored.

I first met with Hunter, who began by telling me his plans to improve the lives of all dogs. I got to the point and asked if he thought his age hindered his candidacy.

"Of course not," Hunter said, then peed on the floor.

I tried not to act surprised and inquired why he made his water on the shag rug.

"Darndest thing, been doing it for a year now, my Mom doesn't complain." I said that was good, and he added, "She's just happy when I don't shit in the bed while she is sleeping." He began to swat in front of his face. "I could answer your questions a lot better if it wasn't for these damn bats."

I realized that our society would be destroyed if Hunter, who has a record of bitiing his guards, our leader.

At least we had another viable candidate. I went to see Kolstov, who, when I introduced myself, immediately began ranting about his being thrown out of the Daisy Meadows kennel for attacking other dogs.

"Those dogs were some real sickos," he said. "They weren't the best dogs. They had rabies, they had fleas, some of them, I suppose, were good boys. We are going to build a wall around the kennel and the cats are going to pay for it." He then rambled incoherently for 20 minutes.

I told Foley that neither candidate was impaired nor qualified to be our leader. She said it was too late to change candidates. For worse or worse, we were stuck with them.

Except for dark dog candidate Rib-Eye, who runs on a no rabies vaccine platform.

We are all screwed.



Friday, March 22, 2024

Tales From Rainbow Bridge: Chief

 No photo description available.


Somewhere. Long forgotten in this story, was a person deciding where to hold an event, one of the hundreds of decisions they made to little effect, or so they thought. But the person, more than a decade ago, who scheduled a Petco conference in Boston changed the lives of several souls and ultimately brought about a group more substantial than a family, a pack.

At that time, the group that brought many of us together, Doggyspace, was bright new, and everyone got along before the things that divide humans crept into it.

When she learned her company conference would be in Boston, Miss Kate, on the other side of the country, had her dog Shiloh ask his friend Pokey, who lived in a suburb north of Boston, if his mom Miss Laure would like a visit from Miss Kate. Miss Laura said yes, more excited than Pokey.

As close as Miss Kate and Miss Laura were online, they became a thousand times closer in person. Miss Laura had found the daughter she had never had.

Miss Laura had given so much of her heart to her dogs and the rescues she would transport to their new homes on weekends that she ran out of them prematurely, leaving her beloved animals, Pokey, Maggie, and Toby behind. There was only one soul she trusted with those closest to her.

Miss Kate had recently lost her beloved Shiloh and was down to one pet, her regal cat Chief, who little knew what the future had in mind for him.

Because Miss Linda’s dogs were being transported to the new home from across the country.

Chief took his new life in style. He had loved Shiloh and knew no one dog could replace her, but three well-loved seniors could do the trick.

Toby went to join his mom first, then Pokey followed, leaving just Chief and the resilient Maggie. When the bridge angels came calling, it was thought they would come for a while, but they were unpredictable, and while both were struggling medically, Chief transitioned to the bridge.

          He was greeted by the humans who preceded him to the Bridge, then knocked on his back by Shiloh, who gave her brother 1,000 kisses. Behind him was Miss Laura, Pokey, and Toby, who now lived together at a mansion on the river.

          Miss Laura picked Chief up and gave her a soft scratch. “Your mom took my angels in when I came here, and I promised to give you a home, and love while you are here, you will never want for love.” Then, Chief followed Miss Laura and her old and new siblings to a home.

          They were not a family, not blood-related; they were something stronger than that.

          They were a pack, inseparable from now until the end of time and beyond.

Thursday, March 21, 2024

Poetry Thursday



 Angel Sammys and Teddy have provided for us a new picture to inspire the poet inside of us all.

Here is today's picture and poem



From the first day Sally arrived home

Her sister Susie let her feeling be known

There was something in the house they would best be rid

Because Susie hated the new freaking kid


“Make it go away,” she begged

She had this rotten baby pegged

She went on the Internet and began to take out bids

For someone who eliminated unwanted kids


She put X-Lax in her formula

Causing indigestion that sounded like a chamber ochresta

“You’ll never clean those marks of skid,”

Susie said about that poop covered kid.


Susie painted Sally’s face black.

And reported her sister had some kind of attack

Whatever she had could not be undid

They would catch the disease from this rotten kid


Susie put needles in Sally’s bassinette

And her parents did not sleep, not even a minute

“The baby is possessed,” Susie said knowing her parents weren’t aware of what she did.

In her efforts to rid the world of that rotten kid.


She snuck the baby out of the house putting it under a sign that read “free to a good home.

As long as you don’t mind a little down’s syndrome”

Her dad found her before she was taken by a couple living south of Madrid.

A city that was no place to raise a kid.


That night their parents sat up in bed

Realizing what had gone unsaid

Since Sally came home Susie had flipped her lid

And she was truly one rotten kid

Tuesday, March 19, 2024

Beat This Caption


Geez mom, at this point I think what happened to the fish is the least of our problems 

Monday, March 18, 2024

Monday Question

 Have your parents bought anything for you for anxiety?

Not me, but my parents tried pills and thunder shirts for Pocket and River with little success.

Sunday, March 17, 2024

The Ruby Rose Report: What Happened Next Door


It was a quiet Sunday afternoon. I was watching Oppenheimer with my parents and thinking of my 131st great-grandfather Oliver, who lived in Belgium during the war and originated the famous Griffy scowl by frowning at the Nazis as they marched around town. I don’t have a resting bitch face; I have a resting bitch stop goose-stepping on the grass, you Nazi bastard face.

I am always alert, and when I heard doors shut, I jumped down and ran to the window.

I saw policemen with guns drawn creeping past the house. They were headed towards our next-door neighbor, who has been rumored to be something nefarious; I don’t believe it. They have an old car and the worst lawn in the development. If they are criminals, they need to go back to robbing school because they suck at it.

I could tell the police did not want to alert the suspects that they were approaching. The lead detective put his hand on the doorknob. Everyone held their breath.

Then I began to cry loudly.

The police kicked in the door and told everyone in the house to get on the ground.

I stayed watching it like it was an HBO show outside my window.

I saw a suspect running out the back door, and I barked louder. I owed it to the police for tipping their play.

They caught the man in his backyard. “I would have got away if it wasn’t for that stupid barking dog,” he said while walking to the waiting squad car.

He was told my barking had given him a chance to run.

At least being vocal had supported both sides. Foley would be proud.

Even after the suspect was apprehended, I attempted to help the police by barking at them where to search, but they don’t listen to non-commissioned dogs.

My parents kept telling me to get away from the windows and be quiet while they looked out the windows and loudly spoke about what they saw. Finally, it was over, and the cops left. I stood at the window, barking thank you and goodbye.

I think I may have a future as a law enforcement dog or at least as a warning animal for some high-level criminals who can afford a Farmer’s Dog subscription.

My only regret

I missed the end of Oppenheimer.

I will never know how the war ended





Friday, March 15, 2024

Foley's Tales From Rainbow Bridge: One Last Time with Nellie


Nellie and her mom sat on the couch after church, as they had hundreds of times before, but today was different. It was the last time.

The week before Nellie had taken ill. She had trouble peeing. When this occurs a parent’s mind goes to the simplest solution, an easily treated bladder infection.

But, when the diagnosis was made, it was both the furthest thing from Momma Lea’s mind, and the one she feared the most: Bladder cancer.

At Nellie’s age there was no treatment, and, since humans are more humane with dogs than they are to themselves, arrangements were made for the one who would guide Nellie to the Bridge would do so from her living room, so she could peacefully slip away next to her mom.     

Nellis lay next to her mom, softly snoring, at peace, knowing her job on the mortal side was done, and she had done it perfectly. Her mom was anxious, listening to her, each breath sounding like the click of a minute hand counting down to permanent midnight.

When humans begin school, the first thing teachers do, unintentionally, is rob children of their ability to see magic. Being an adult human is hard, and there is no room for magic. When it happens, the human mind lies to the soul, telling it a logical fib wiping the magic away.

Momma Lea will tell you a vet came to her home, gave Nellie the final shot, and let her slip away to the Bridge.

It was the lie her brain told head.

It is sad, because what happened was so much more comforting.

Momma Lea fell asleep next to Nellie. When she was stirred awake she had dogs on either side of her. Sandy, her heart dog, had returned to help Nellie transition to the Immortal side.

Nellie sat on her mom’s lap and gave her a thousand kisses, then revealed the truth, which one does at the end, and spoke to Momma Lea, thanking her for everything she did, for being the best mom she could hope for, and for making every day of her life an indescribable pleasure. Momma Lea told Nellie that she had been a fantastic child, and Lea had no idea how she would go on, but vowed she would, for the sake of her angels.                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Sandy sat in her mom’s lap again. He fit perfectly. There were kisses, tears, and words of love that reached across the River of Life to fill her heart in a way it hadn’t been since Sandy had last patted around their Kentucky home.

Then came the final but not permanent goodbye which I cannot recount here because it was too powerful for any language except the forgotten Elven.

Then, paw and paw, Nellie followed Sandy’s steps to the Bridge, where she was met with so much love it blew her ears back.

As that happened Lea’s mind told her a lie, that the vet who helped her baby would go to her true forever home.

The entire incident was wiped away, except in dreams, and a nugget of what happened that stayed with Lea.

That, at the end of this hard life, is a place where all the love she had given she will get back the day she passes.

It is in Sandy, Nellie, and others she had lost.

The brain allows that secret, and the beauty awaiting all humans at the end of their journey.

It is the only thing that can keep a human moving forward in this wicked world.



Thursday, March 14, 2024

Poetry Thursday


 Angel Sammys and Teddy have provided for us a new picture to inspire the poet inside of us all.

Here is today's picture and poem 


Wherever he went men trembled in fear.

The meanest son-of-a-bitch in this hemisphere.

Whatever he saw he did maliciously destroy

He is the outlaw Baby Boy


He was so mean be made men quake

Especially if it was an hour past his bedtime and he was still awake

Some of the world’s most dangerous criminals he did employ

He is the outlaw Baby Boy.


Townsfolk knew there was only one way to be safer

To stock up on his teething wafer

If not no one cold imagine the suffering that would be

When they faced the wrath of the outlaw Baby Boy


He struck with the venom of a viper.

Especially if he had a long-filled diaper.

And if he had partaken of too much Rob Roy

There was no calming the outlaw Baby Boy.


The air was filled with young girls squeals

When he rode in on a bike with three wheels

He had a girl in every state from Maine to Illinois

All wanting the title Mrs. Outlaw Baby Boy


He was responsible for many a crime wave

And he had lowered his enemies in his grave

The police would be fill with joy

If they could catch the Outlaw Baby Boy.


They had no clue what he would do

When he turned the age of two

And became an ambulatory.

Outlaw Baby Boy


The best advice given to the village folks

Was to listen for the sound of baseball cards in spokes

 And hope when you search the house you don’t’ find playing with a toy

The Outlaw Baby Boy

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Monday, March 11, 2024

Monday Question

 Have your parents ever made a mistake with a pet that they regret?

A few ago, Pocket had some butt problems that they thought were an impacted anal gland. It got drained, but Pocket kept licking it, so they put pants on it so she couldn't. They checked it a couple of days later, and it was worse. It was an allergy, terrible itching, and po. Poor couldn't get it. She got medication, and it cleared up, but my parents still feel guilty

Sunday, March 10, 2024

The Ruby Rose Report: The Great Grape Flood


 I was chewing a marrow bone on my blanket when the incident occurred.

It was a typical Friday night at our house. Mommy was making supper, Daddy was due home from work, and neither knew what would happen.

There was a massive explosion in the kitchen.

Mommy began to use words so bad that they were banned on HBO.

I left my blanket and trotted into the kitchen. It looked like an Ooopa Lompa convention had been slaughtered by an exasperated, nearly bankrupt Slugworth. Grape juice was everywhere, and on the sloped section of the floor, it was rushing toward the oven like the Johnstown Flood.

“Don’t step in it!” Mommy warned me, which I wasn’t planning on doing. I didn’t want Evil Grimace juice on my paws.

“Daddy didn’t put the cap on tightly,” Mommy said. I never thought of him as an accomplished man, but if my Dad can knock grape juice off a shelf, then kudos.

“Momma!’ I barked. “You need to the big roll of Bounty before the purple river gets under the stove. Uh-oh, never mind.”

My Mom is not like those people in the Bounty Commercials who can wipe up a spill because they hide a roll up their ass. Unfortunately, my Mommy doesn’t have room up there for towels, so she keeps them on the counter, and by the time she got to the disaster area, a small Korean fishing village had sprung up around them.

Mommy must have decided and tried to change the juice into wine because she said a mixture of Bible words, HBO words, and speaking in tongues. The grape juice river kept rolling along.

Mommy has arthritis and walks with a visible limp, but Lord, you should see her move when there is a spill on the floor.

She came out firing, with a spray bottle in one hand, a mop in the other, and holding an unopened paper towel roll in her mouth like a hand grenade about to be thrown.

She got down and worked like the pit crew at Daytona in the last lap of the 500. She kept telling me to stay, which was not a problem because I was not going to try to breach the Big Grape River.

She got done and told me not to mention the spillage to Daddy. I didn’t: Not when he got home, not when he gave Mommy a peck on the lips, and not when, after that, he gave me lots of attention because that’s how we roll in my forever home.

Then Daddy noticed more of the juice was gone.

I leaped into my kitty condo before my Mom took the grenade out.

Friday, March 8, 2024

Foley's Tales From Rainbow Bridge: The Case of the Baconless Beggin Strips


As the world’s foremost dog attorney, I have represented many lawsuits brought by puppy plaintiffs. Madison v Marmaduke, Snoopy v the Red Baron Pizza, and Ark Animals v Noah were filed the day after their journey ended by two beagles on board because they had reserved an upper berth and got stuck below the elephants.

Last week, I was sniffing through some potential lawsuits when I found a defendant so heinous that, if it became public, he would mediately pass the prehistoric guy with a knife who said, “I can make their dogs stop reproducing” as the greatest villain in all of dogdom.

The case was brought against the maker of Beggin Strips because there is no bacon in Beggin’ Strips.

What is the literal duck? Because of Purina, generations of dogs thought bacon tasted like the Toppe’s Baseball card under the gum, which you eat when you’re not paying attention.

I asked Pocket to research what Beggin’ Strips are made of and report back to me. She went under the sink, got a bag, and read the ingredients.

The first one was Ground Wheat. I don’t like Ground Wheat. I prefer Air Wheat. I like the logo: A loaf of bed dunking a ball.

Then, there was a corn gluten meal. I am not sure what that is. I think it’s something corn upchucks when getting shucked aggressively.

I can’t believe I spent most of my mortal time begging for wheat and corn gluten; that would be the second part of my lawsuit, wasting my time and energy on corn gluten.

The rest of the ingredients were equally as uninspiring and included Glycerin, which, if I mixed it with Nitro, would give me something to throw at this mischievous Purina bastard.

Full of self-righteousness and indignation, I filed my case in dream court, charging the defendant with bacon fraud, the worst kind of fraud, at least concerning swine.

It was the most significant case since Oscar Meyer vs. the Wiener Brothers.

When it was time for my opening, I laid forth our case that we, as a species, had been conned by those whom we trust second only to our parents: Our food maker.
They were clever, putting in a touch of bacon fat and artificial smoke flavor caused by working on the ensemble line, all smoking blunts to help them get through their soul-sucking shifts.

The judges did not have to hear any longer.

I had won.

But despite being self-satisfied with my presentation, it was a dream come true, and the bigger the company, the less they had to pay.
Justice only takes place in the dream world.
It is why I am there every night.

Thursday, March 7, 2024

Poetry Thursdsy


fAngel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton has provided the pictute below for this week's inspiration. 

Lower taxes he did promise.

His words were meant to calm us

I hate to be a doubting Thomas

But I think our new Senator did con us.


He said he would repeal Obama Care

And in his first day he ran through the Russell Building in his underwaare

That made me think I should beware

Especially when he wore tissue boxes as footware.


He kept his promises, like the one about a chicken in every pot

But they were alive and had pooped in the pot a lot.

He said we would own our own yacht

But his behaviior made all promises for naught.


As soon as he took office he ravaged the country’s funds.

He caused massive inflation, and sold our enemies guns.

He got the secretary of state pregnant and flashed her grandson.

It is a mystery why he caused the fleeing of the holy nuns.


He put the country on the path to war

By ordering Canada invaded by the marine corps

And in an effort to show strentgth to those he did abhor

He meant to take out China and blew up Singapore


He pulled out, leading to the dissolution, of NATO

He appointed an interim ttorney General named Kalen Kato

He put all his ideas in a manifesto.

And labled all those against him a RHINO.


His constintutes he didn’t respect

And his needs he did neglect

And maybe in time we will reflect

On why we are working so hard to reelect








Foley's Tails from Rainbow Bridge: About that eclipse

  All I wanted was a new bench for my chambers. I ordered it from Judges’r’us and paid a premium to have it delivered. My mistake was hiri...