Monthly Archives: August 2011


Where’s Qadaffi?

Wheres Qadaffi?

by Mucho Groucho

It seems enough loyalists have decided that Qadaffi’s life is not worth dying for and so the General’s merry men have disbanded leaving Muammar on the run. I have some insight based on my own life experiences and keen thought processes to help those that are seeking him and I hope my invaluable advice on where he might be will be heeded immediately. First of all he is probably wearing the same striped shirt that “Waldo” of the famous “Where’s Waldo” series of books is wearing. There’s your first clue.

When I owned a home, and during those times I felt that the whole world was against me (especially my wife) I would retreat to my basement where I would find refuge and solace. There is a good possibility that Muammer has taken the stairs downward and is hanging out in his own palace basement. He is probably playing ping pong with the few friends and family members he has left and I am sure they let him win every game. Listen for the dictators loud screams of “I won again!!!” and you will find him.

Check Condeleeza Rice’s house in Washington DC. In case you haven’t heard, photos of her were found in his palace and he is her number one fan (after that other kooky tyrant Dick Cheney). I can picture them now, snuggling on her sofa. “Oh Muammie, I didn’t even know you played the guitar.” While he plays “Baby I’m a Want You” by the band Bread, she toasts “smores” in the fireplace and feeds him. “I love these things!” he tells her. “I bet we can package this stuff and make millions. They are a little messy though. Use two marshmallows for the next one will you my little love sparrow?”

A while back I posted an email sent by Qadaffi to Charlie Sheen asking if Chuckie can put him up for a while in his Hollywood mansion. Guys with tigers blood and crazy ways tend to stick together so that is one of the first places I would check. He’s probably turning him on to coke and introducing him to his own concubines while they share war stories of how they outwitted the general public into thinking they were “normal”. Qadaffi was “normalized” by George W. Bush when Muammie promised to no longer pursue “nuc-ulear” weapons. Charlie was recently “normalized” by American television who are bringing the warlock back for a show based on the movie “Anger Management.” I am sure Qadaffi will have a role in the show and will be available for capture as he sits poolside signing autographs to a brand new fan base.

I know that when I feel alone and needing to vent, I go to my local bar to have a few drinks and confer with my favorite bar tender. There is a good chance Qadaffi is at the Shepherd’s Tavern in downtown Tripoli drinking his sorrows away. “No one understands me Joe. I’m not a bad guy. I may have made some bad choices but what I do is not who I am.” “Well, beheading your political enemies did not make you very popular but it’s good that you can learn from your mistakes and move on. Would you like another Bud, Bud?” “Sure. And that Condee Rice. She’s another one. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted her. I still can’t find my wallet or cell phone”.

I hope these tips have been helpful and I am sure that if they are taken seriously Qadaffi will be found very quickly. I hope I am not forgotten as the one who led to his capture and maybe the reward money that was offered for Bin Laden will roll over as a reward for Qadaffi’s capture. I am broke and can really use the million bucks. Thanks.


Are Bert and Ernie Really Gay?

by Mucho Groucho

A Gay Rights activist is pushing for Sesame Street to “out” Bert and Ernie as a homosexual couple. There are already 5000 signatures on the petition of his website of people who favor having them marry. Mayor Bloomberg can reside over their marriage. “I now pronounce you: Mu ppets (muh-pets).” Maybe Elton John can play “here come the…grooms?” on piano.
How would I explain this to my five year old and how do I explain the, “families with two mommies and daddies” as presented on a Sesame Street episode by none other than Elmo? “Ask your mother?” “Just Google it?”

I have deep doubts that Bert and Ernie are gay. They are what Sesame Street reps describe as best friends. They are also room-mates and perhaps like Felix and Oscar of the “Odd Couple” they are divorced muppets who like me, are trying to put the pieces of their lives back together. No, I don’t think that’s the case either. But to even imply that they are gay is insulting. Big Bird maybe but not Bert and Ernie.

With the political correctness police patrolling our lives, anyone who protests this push to label our dear muppet friends as gay will be deemed as “haters.” So speaking out against this in an attempt to protect the innocence of our children will result in a Scarlett “H” for homophobe. When did furthering an agenda (dare I say it) become more important than our own choice in dealing with these issues with our kids? Can we wait until we feel they are ready or at least out of diapers? “How dare you!! You homophobe!” “You hater”. On the contrary; I am a hater hater. I hate haters. I just don’t like to be bullied by a furry red muppet and by those controlling poor Elmo and those bullying their way into my living room and into my child’s psyche. If my kids can’t watch Sesame Street anymore what’s left for them to watch?

Children’s Television should be just that, programming for children. I will be writing to my congressman Barney Frank about this. You can count on that!



by Mucho Groucho

As I write this, my future ex-wife is with her current boyfriend, Jack; a divorced man who has a beard but no moustache. That she finds this attractive is beyond me. Maybe she likes the “beatnik finds Islam” look. Jack’s little boy is a friend of my daughter and I think she had a little coaching from her mother as to how wonderful the little boy is. One big happy family without me.

When I hit hard times financially my future ex realized how unhappy she had been all these years. An attempted reconciliation failed when loverboy broke up with his ex girlfriend rendering him free for my ex-wife. He makes a nice living and works in the medical field. Good for her. I hope late at night when she is asleep he conducts medical experiments on her. They are probably having a nice barbeque right now and if my future ex-brother-in-law is doing the honors he is probably roasting a large pig in a spit to celebrate the new boyfriend, to piss off his Jewish neighbors and in honor of getting rid of me.
When I go to that place where I start longing that everything was as it were before, I am able to control this momentary insanity by focusing hard on my future ex-mother-in-law. She is an instigator extraordinaire; an expert in the art of mixing and I don’t mean she is a bartender. “Larry David is the best Jew ever” I remember her telling me in a moment of attempted endearment. I guess I was her second favorite Jew but by now I probably fall on the list somewhere under David Berkowitz and other Jewish serial killers.
Look intently at her picture and notice what looks back at you: nothing. Hers was a litany of random complaints; self-pity and the barking of commands not even a pit bull would be able to keep up with. She is the one I leave behind with Jewish jubilation.

These are the things she has been telling my 5-year-old daughter who means the world to me:

“Your dad needs to get a job so he can buy you toys and clothes.” (I am self-employed).

“New Jersey is boring.” (My daughter’s grandparent’s house is in NJ).

“They are not your REAL cousins.” (Referring to any of my child’s cousins on my side of the family).

Did I mention this is what she tells my five year old? So when my daughter asked me why women don’t have moustaches I corrected her that her “Nanny” indeed has one and she trims it once a month.

She has always been a trouble-maker in the television mother-in-law sense of the word but much worse. I take responsibility for my role in the failure of our marriage. My wife’s role was much greater if you asked me but my mother in law was also a BIG help. I’m glad I found her picture to stare at on this lonely Saturday night where my demons have taken the form of roaches and ants in an attempt to drive me insane in my small apartment. The next woman I marry will need to be raised poor so she does not have the kind of materialistic values my wife and her family have, but more than anything I hope her family is in a country far far away. Like Mars. Meanwhile I will get an exterminator and not think so much about my ex-life.