Plea For Help: Texas Ant Wars

For the last two months, vast armies of tiny brown ants have swarmed over our land as part of a vicious, cynical, and illegal campaign of territorial expansion. They are now an occupying force. We live under a strict 6pm to 6am curfew and are forbidden to go to church. Of course, dissent is treated harshly and I am risking my life by writing this letter. Please send your thoughts and prayers to FREE WILT FAMILY, PO BOX 7720, ARLINGTON, TX.


Cell phone Technology Just Hasn’t Worked Out

To hell with cell phones.

Homing pigeons are the only way. Easy to train, they clean up after themselves quite well.

They may take longer to deliver messages, but how often are your emails that important?

Teach them to make deposits on public statues of Confederate generals.

Hillary can send Trump her 31,000 lost pigeons. The birds can retrieve the messages for him.

Trump Tower will make an excellent roost.

Marriage Jokes: Take Them or Leave Them.

1)      Marriage is great.  Who needs those ugly testicles anyway?

2)      Marriage is like being paralyzed.  You know what’s happening to you but you can’t do anything about it.

3)      My wife uses sex as a weapon to get what she wants.  Her new car cost her three blow jobs.

4)      My wife believes marriage is two people becoming one.  That’s why she ate me alive.

5)      She thinks that sex is best served cold.

6)      My friend asked his wife for sex.  She tossed him a dish rag.

7)      If your sex robot tells you she has a headache, bang its head with a hammer.

8)      Why did the man murder his wife?  He already killed her mother.

9)    Why can’t you get divorced before you get married.  It would save a lot of time.

10)  Advice for the groom: Nobody ever tells you this, but believe me… You and your wife…  SEX! EVERY! SINGLE! NIGHT!  There are 6 billion people on earth. Where do you think they all came from?  Every night you rack, you toil and slave.  You sing work songs. Sea chanties.  Keep it moving.  Never stop.  You break a hip, push harder.  Stroke?  Heart attack?  Boo hoo!  If you die in the saddle, finish up before you check out.  Leave your key at the desk.  A big black car will be waiting to carry that last shred of you Home.

The Donald Gets His Trumpupance.


You are like one of those cowards who buys a Medal of Honor from eBay then shows it off as if he had earned it.

You had your flunky call the female senator from Alaska to threaten her state with a cutoff of federal funds if she didn’t vote for that sham of a health care bill.  She voted against it anyway.  You sure scared the hell out of her!

And then, Senator John McCain came into your life.

You mocked the five-and-a-half years he spent in agony as a POW.  During those same years, you suffered from exhaustion hopping from one sorority girl to another. You said you stayed out of the draft because you drew a high lottery number.

That was a LIE!

You pretended to have a sore little footsie.  So you got to stay home, pay others to take your exams, and enter your daddy’s business.

Years later, you conned your way to the White House by claiming to be the hero of the working class.

You tried to jam a perverted Death Scare bill down our throats and you nearly did.

Except you encountered a real hero, Senator John McCain, now gravely ill.  He gave your trashy legislation thumbs down and it is gone for good.

Reality always wins, especially in matters of courage.  A fraud like you prospers far too long until single, brave, sick, old man gives you thumbs down.

Since January, the air has been dank, motionless, poisonous, full of dread.  It’s clearer now.  Over time, the air will begin to move even more and drive you, your hate and stupidity away for good.


Last May, The Institute of Sandstone, NY, awarded me a Doctorate of Geological Psychology. What a thrill! Ceremonies were held at Smith and Wesson .357 Magnum High School. Only three fatalities were reported.

After years of hard work, I am now a Rock Whisperer. Or as my father said, “a stupid, worthless rock whatever-you-call-it”.

Anyway, Mother was proud.

You probably have at least one rock in your yard. According to several ancient world-class religions, every object in the Universe has a soul. No kidding. An asteroid has a soul. Ever wonder why they fly so close to Earth at times? That’s a warning. Learn to be kind and loving, stop the wars and partisan politics, or the next time: POW! The earth breaks into a trillion pieces and everybody dies.

A pencil, a toilet, your neighbor’s lawnmower you want to steal, all have a soul. Theoretically, you can learn to whisper to any object. I have chosen to whisper exclusively to rocks.

Pick up a rock. Any rock. Most of them are deeply depressed. They won’t move unless you give them a good, swift kick in the butt. They live in constant fear that a lawnmower will batter them or a smelly psychopathic brat will pick it up and throw it through a school window. And what can be sadder when it realizes it accomplished nothing during the 100,000,000 years of its existence?
Grim picture, isn’t it? I know you. You are a compassionate person with a great love of nature. Look at your rock, YOUR rock, the one in your hand. Squeeze it. Run your fingers along its skin. Stare at it and tell me if you are not moved by its prolonged anguish?

For the first time is history, we can lift the dark cloud of misery afflicting our protolithic friends. Send your rock to me and only me… along with a small check… very small check… of only $99.99.

For this generous price, I shall give your beloved prehistoric relic My PERSONAL attention for three eight-hour business days. It and I shall work to boost its self-esteem, drive out evil spirits, and clean off unsightly fungus and lichen.

Send me an extra $199.99, I will authenticate up to three historical events your pet had witnessed.

For example:

Dallas, November 22, 1963, your rock was embedded in the famed grassy knoll. The Mafia assassin slipped on it after he shot our President Kennedy. Witnesses reported that the killer cursed at the rock, but the Warren Commission didn’t believe them.

Paris on 16 October 1793 at 12:15 p.m., when Marie Antoinette suffered death by guillotine. The executioner sharpened the blade with your rock. It was also drenched in her blood as her head fell into the basket.

Good Friday 33CE in Jerusalem. A Pharisee threw it at Jesus as He struggled up Calvary Hill for his crucifixion.

By the way, you won’t notice any improvement in Rocky’s mood for about a hundred years. Oh, my! You’ll be dead by then, won’t you? Too bad!

With Universal Love for All Objects,

Doctor Conrad Bilgermann, RW

Prophecies of MU: The Split

MU predicts:

Ivanka files for divorce and Jared books.

Investigation discovers conspiracy between Trump and Russia to commit voter fraud in the battleground states, assuring Trump’s victory.

Trump and Pence are impeached. Paul Ryan, per the Constitution, is now president.

The Supreme Court invalidates the 2016 election. It calls for a new election. The parties have 30 days to choose their candidates. They have 60 days to campaign. The victors will serve until 2020.

Trump is exposed as a reptile.

Is she or he the one? What career should you follow? Call Mad Mark’s Discount Psychic line: 555-666-999.