Washington Dances the Cakewalk
with 
and
Kathryn of Omaha TV
Omaha TV’s Mother Earth’s Weekly Squirms Show is on and millions of viewers tune in.
Kathryn: Hello, dear viewers, my husband Mars Man is here with us on the occasion of the elections in the USA and we have the fortitude of receiving him in our studio today together with our beloved panel: Paul Turnmeon, Fred Miserable, Bob Demmofool, Charlene Knowitall, Marlene Femenazi and Henriette Forgetmenot. Mars Man, your views on the American election results.
Mars Man: “Like rain in space. Incredible. I heard that the tenant in the Whitehouse climbed the fence, but on the way out, not to be seen again. Like the Halloween scene we reported last week.”
Kathryn: “What do you think of the American two-party system? Does it work?”
Mars Man: “As good as a worn-out couple in bed. Adultery is the only option for survival.”
Kathryn: “But with whom can they commit adultery?”
Mars Man: “They should call back the Founding Fathers for a transformation of America. Clearly, the one advocated by the current tenant of the White House was an outright aberration. I told you that six years ago, but no one wanted to believe me, and some others, who raised the red flag.”
Kathryn: “But what transformation should the Founding Fathers consider?”
Mars Man: “Try the parliamentary system. The Presidential system lures people to the job who bank on their smiles and populist manners, but are not competent or honest. The system puts too much power into the executive branch and turns it too much into a bully pulpit. In the parliamentary system you can issue a vote of no-confidence and throw the bums out and put your own bums in before the election period is over. That’s what we do on Mars.”
Kathryn: “Well, Bob Demmofool, you think that’s the solution?”
Bob: “This is the biggest bull –beep — I’ve ever heard. The parliamentary system allows multiple parties into the chambers and leads to complete cacophony. No continuity, continuous fights, nothing gets done. America needs a one party system and that should obviously be the Democrats to avoid today’s gridlock.”
Fred Miserable: “WTF – beep! I beg to disagree. In Europe, you have all sorts of parties that have a voice, and here those different voices get shut up by the majority leaders in the Senate or the House. Let’s split up the democratic party, for example. All your moderate democrats have been rooted out and replaced by leftist socialists, environmental fascists, crony capitalists, and professional healthcare liars, and you want to amplify that into a one party system?”
Marlene Femenazi: “This is all chicken — beep! We have enough of all these fuddy-duddy roosters talking big and do nothing but jumping on our backs. What we need is matriarchal management. The guys have made a complete mess of it. I only want to see skirts or female pants on TV, that is, without zippers that fly open in public and cause sexist havoc. The Wonder Woman Party would do fine.”
Charlene Knowitall: “BS-beep! If you put two women together you have a fight. Put a whole party of them together and you have a war on women.”
Henriette Forgetmenot: “Mars Man is right. We need a multi-party system. Like marriage is out the door, it’s more fun to lie in bed with multi-parties.”
Fred Miserable: “Let’s put a name to today’s so-called Democrats: the Communist Party because that’s what it is. Totally transformed. In a multi-party system, you could also have a Social Democrat party like in Germany, a Labor Party like in the UK or a Boer Koekoek party in Holland. On the Republican side, you can have a Libertarian Party like Le Pen in France, a Christian Democratic party like in Germany or Holland, and a Conservative Party in the UK. Each party gets the votes they deserve and the lead party forms the government, if necessary with opposing parties if they didn’t get a full majority, and they select a prime minister. And you do not have to wait four let alone eight years to get rid of him or her. Most importantly, they cannot govern by fiat or executive order.”
Bob Demmofool: “SOB! I wish we would’ve had that when Bush was president!”
Fred Miserable: “You see! You agree when you see it’s to your advantage. SOB!”
Kathryn: “Ladies and gentleman, let’s pipe down! Mars Man, your idea of inviting the Founding Fathers back to life is causing some friction. Did we forget something we should think about?”
Mars Man: “Yes. Immigration. An issue hotly debated on Mars. We don’t like invaders. We have invited that visionary gentleman from Holland, Gilders to come and speak. Also that charming lady from France Michelle le Pen. Joe Arpaio of Arizona has already signed on. Jan Brewer, Governor of Arizona, as well. We have installed a hermetic shield around Mars and everyone will be bounced back to where they came from regardless of whether they perish in space.”
Bob Demmofool:” WTF! How are you going to grow your party’s base? You won’t be able to maintain your majority.”
Marlene Femenazi: “That’s what we should have in the USA: a system to keep all the men out and do away with those inside. Now that the Supreme Court is supporting same-sex, we can finally throw the bums out and do it alone.”
Paul Turnmeon: “I can recommend you a crony capitalist who can provide you solar-energy operated cucumbers for half the price. He got half a billion tax-funded government loan.”
Kathryn: Ladies and gentleman, again, tone it down unless you want the FCC to denominate this an X-rated show and we would lose our advertisers. Mars Man, a last comment please before we close. “
Mars Man: Oh, yes, thanks. What does WTF mean?”
Kathryn: “Dear viewers, that was all for today, come back next time!”
Spooky Washington
In collaboration with
Your reporters of the Views of a Foreigner have seen a lot of Mother Earth, but nothing surprises them more than Washington D.C., as overheard on a terrace overlooking the Potomac in Georgetown.
“I’m happy that NASA has stopped roaming Mars because the White House has blown its budget with broccoliramacare,” Mars Man said, “but using Russian rockets to power supplies to the International Space Station really beats me. No wonder they explode; they run on vodka.”
“And then to know that your Space Scooter One runs on purified sublimated ethanol,” the other reporter said. “Did you ever tell them?”
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“Of course I did, as a friendly gesture from Mars, but they don’t want to listen to me because I don’t belong to their crony capitalist club.”
“But you are not against further space exploration, are you?” the reporter asked.
“As long as it is done within reason and not to submit other cultures living in space to the follies of Mother Earth. Americans were good going to the moon because nobody lives there, and I have no issue with sending space shuttles to do scientific research and experiments. But since the White House started firing up Air-Force one instead, they have only been polluting the air, something their government is always lamenting about. Now Americans have to pay 70 million dollars to get a seat on a Russian space craft. Don’t you think Americans find this humiliating?”
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“Mars Man, looking at TV and the newspapers, Americans are mostly concerned about getting or keeping their jobs or getting them back, if ever, and keeping illegals and that crazy disease from West Africa outside their borders. They are least concerned about some Russian astronauts in the Space Station getting their vodka resupplied.”
“So, what would an American do when someone of higher authority came to their door asking for either of two things: one, you must pay one hundred dollars to fire up Air Force One or two, get audited by the IRS?’
“Get audited by the IRS, I suppose, because Americans haven’t got any money left anyway. And there is a good chance that the IRS computers have lost their tax return. They paid close to one hundred million in refunds to dead people.”
“Holy Halloween!” Mars Man exclaimed. “When you look at that White House it seems more and more like a haunted castle in this dark fall weather. Does anyone live there? Is that what these fence jumpers want to find out?”
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“According to my sources, it appears that the main tenant is always out campaigning and his spouse has been forced to do the same because nobody likes him anymore. The kids are left alone with the disappointed Obama Girl, eating veggies from the yard.”
“Why is the White House so silent about what they plan to do?” Mars Man asked. “Everything seems postponed until after the elections. Don’t they have to come clean? On Mars everybody is given a blackboard with the main promises to vote for and then check it off.”
www.pinterest.com vote for Lazaro 1 vote for Lazaro 2
“Don’t try to understand American politics, Mars. It all boils down to whether your baseball cap says it’s made in Honduras, China or the USA, the wife is a man eater and has the constitutional right to beat up her spouse and demand equal pay, and if a black congressman is black enough.”
“What about the economy, their paycheck, illegals, health premiums, and those islamofacists?” Mars Man asked, sounding perplexed.
“Again, according to my sources — which are based on official leaks from czars you see hiding behind the burning curtains — when the main tenant returns from campaigning, he will rule by ball pen order and cellphone, and only on domestic politics to reset his failing legacy.”
“Ball pen order?” Mars Man’s mouth hung open for at least a minute, stupefied. “What’s that?”
“Sort of executive fiat, or executive order, emperor-like. Something that was done in Europe in the Middle Ages,” the reporter clarified, seemingly not expecting that Mars Man would understand a iota of that.
www.dailymail.co.uk courtesy Andrew Jewson inventor Jackpen
“But didn’t they have revolutions about that in Europe?” Mars Man asked, understandably confused.
“They sure did, but all that’s forgotten here because they are not taught history in school, and if they are it is only about the Messiah who came to transform America.”
“Wouldn’t you vote against that?” Mars Man asked.
“Of course I would, but I don’t have a vote, only a green card. Besides, if a Republican votes for a Republican, a vote for a Democrat jumps out of the machine.”
“They have voter fraud in America? I thought only banana republics had that problem and that they send
former President Carter and his outfit to keep an eye on that.”
www. therealside.com courtesy Joe Messina
“I hear that they are planning to invite the Carter Institute to oversee the election here next week but since he is a Democrat it may only get worse.”
“You know that a printer on Mars was invited to bid for the manufacturing of ten million green cards? Don’t they have anybody here who can do that?”
“You see! They want to keep it secret, that’s why. As soon as the elections are over, the main tenant in the White House will give them away to illegals, on the condition that the beneficiaries vote Democrat. He says that’s better than Voter ID and it’s constitutional because he taught Constitution at Harvard.”
“But why don’t you go vote then with your green card if they mix it up at the polling station anyway?”
“Because I am a Moron.”
“Moron?”
“Somebody who votes for the Giants thinking they are Congress.”
Mars Man gave the reporter a blank stare. “What’s gone wrong with America?” he was thinking aloud.
The Washington Cooking Show
In collaboration with 
Your all-weather reporter of Views of a Foreigner has been snooping and sniffing around town and found some remarkable new Washingtonian cooking recipes. Among others, those that Michelle puts on her website for school kids that are widely rejected; recipes that really put your kitchen on fire.
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I was strolling along Pennsylvania Avenue near the White House, stumbling on at least fifteen to twenty police cars with stern-looking policemen staring at me.
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Granted, I look a bit weird with my Martian face, but can I help it? Anyway, my eyes caught little pieces of paper tied to the fence around the White House premises. Wondering what they were, I opened one and it had clear instructions by Michelle for passers-by on how to steam healthy broccoli that former President George H. Bush refused to eat. You remember that when he made that public, some ten hazmat trucks threw tons of broccoli in front of the White House sent by angry farmers.
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That was the main reason why they blocked off the whole space in front of the White House with killer fences as if you are entering a high-security prison. Well, in view of the November 2014 congressional elections Michelle wanted to make good with the farmers and pinched this message on the fence: just drop your garden broccoli in a pan with boiling-hot water and all you have to do is go back to your TV and continue watching your soap until you smell something burning and then it’s ready to serve for dinner later. Now I hear Michelle is being sued for multiple kitchen fires.
But what surprised me more was that the paper went on with clear instructions on how to climb the fence and enter the White House premises.
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Shocked, I showed it to the stern-looking policeman.
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He said he belonged to the Secret Service and that he was not allowed to tell the truth. Pressing him that I was a foreign reporter from Mars who would send in the Martian army on pre-election day to carry out illegal voting for Republican candidates, he caved and said the instructions meant to encourage reckless pedestrians to jump the fence so that TV would direct attention to the beleaguered inhabitant of the White House to defend his broccoliramacare program.
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He ended by saying, “And this is the truth.”
Walking along in the sun on a typical Indian summer day in Washington D.C., I ran into a grey-haired employee of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), more commonly known as the EDA (Environmental Destruction Agency). A huge oversized building full with oversized people from eating too much broccoli.
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I recognized him because he proudly carried his ID-card on his extensive chest. Presenting him with my Martian press card, he asked me greedily what I wanted to know. He said they were so maligned by the American People that he really wanted to set the record straight. When I told him we had a lot of coal on Mars that we happily used to warm our underground cities, he became very agitated.
“Coal is bad for your health,” he assured me.
“How do you know?”
“It’s causing Carbon Dioxide and will kill you, even on Mars,” he explained.
“But we use it for cooking, heating, electricity and by the way, aren’t you exhaling that stuff?”
“Too much of the same good cannot be good. We recommend people that they hold their breath,” he said, with a straight face. “Inside the EPA building, all employees are required to hold their breath. Those who do it longest get a bonus of one hundred thousand dollars and then get promoted away to the CIA but still stay on the payroll. I know because I am.”
“Gee, what wonderful things taxpayer money can do. Do you know anything of that secret space plane that came back from the sky?”
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“Of course, don’t you know? It was an EPA spy plane to prick holes in the ozone layer to let out the CO2 into the stratosphere and at the same time import radiation from the sun to promote global warming.”
“But I thought you guys were fighting global warming,” I said, astonished.
“Nobody wants to believe us, so we must find other ways to prove our point.”
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“How smart! Killing two birds with one stone. But with those windmills you are supporting you already kill so many birds that soon you won’t have any left to prove points with.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, convincingly. “We have the United Nations Panel on Climate Change, and they concoct the best lies ever with tax-free money.”
“Yeah, “I said. “We on Mars often wonder how they do that. When we put our laser thermometers through your ozone holes to measure Mother Earth’s temperature, you have not warmed up for the last eighteen years, and actually got colder; your seas have not been rising, and the Antarctic ice has increased. How come this discrepancy?”
“Discrepancy?” he mocked. “Ever heard of computers? You cook-up what you put in and you get out what you want. Who says it isn’t true? Computers are always right. Ask Microsoft or Apple or even Al Gore.”
“But isn’t that falsifying science?” I asked.
“Not if you get paid for it. They have to feed their kids, too.”
“With broccoli, I guess.”
“Our Commander-in-Chief’s standard evening dinner served by his Michelle,” he said, winking his eye, and walked back to his office.
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Your all
Nyira The Tutsi Queen
Dear Guests:
Enchanté has published the last story in the series Some Women I Have Known, entitled Nyira The Tutsi Queen, the cover of which appears below.
Managing a French Import-Export company in Burundi, a small country in the middle of Africa, John van Dorn gets intrigued by the sudden appearance of a dark-clothed woman whose shadow approaches him while overlooking Lake Tanganyika from a hill nearby the town of Bujumbura. Mesmerized by her regal demeanor, he is spurred to unveil the reasons for the melancholy in her ebony-colored eyes. Then a cascade of events unravels that puts him in a dire position, trying to protect her from annihilation in tribal conflict and a coup d’état. A suspenseful story from beginning to end.
The cover design is by Melanie Stephens of Willow Manor Publishing in Fredericksburg, Virginia
(www.willowmanorpublishing.com_)
The photograph is an original from Bujumbura but unfortunately we were unable to trace the photographer to ask permission and to give him/her credit.
Read it on Amazon.com http://amzn.to/1toVoF4 for the ridiculous price of $0.99 or thereabout depending on where you are. If you do not have a kindle, Amazon.com installs it on your PC for free in a jiffy and you will have access to thousands of other wonderful stories and books.
Enjoy!
Enchanté has been busy with two manuscripts for publication in a not too distant future, and will resume posting blogs again shortly.
All the best, John
Ingrid The Magnificent Viking
Ingrid The Magnificent Viking is a survival tale. After his girlfriend broke up with him, John goes for a hike in his beloved Swiss mountains to forget his sorrow, but at sunset gets lost amidst rocks and pines and a torrential creek, almost drowns, and is forced to spend a long night in the freezing cold. Recovering the next morning from his ordeal in the lodge where he stays, he stumbles into a Norwegian goddess with whom he falls in love on the ski slopes. He thinks it was all destiny.
A tear-jerking love story.
Get it on: http://amzn.to/10bb8yA
Cover design by Melanie Stephens
Melanie Stephens
