Gormogon operative JAB writes in with a response to ‘Puter post regarding social security. ‘Puter hopes the response is satirical. Either that, or Mandarin’s gaslighting ‘Puter by zapping operatives with his orbital mind control lasers again. Thus spake JAB:
Yo, Mr. Puter,
It is a good thing you write under a nom de plume, ’cause if you wuz known publicly, your domicile would be shortly surrounded by torch-bearing mobs! Betty White be d***ned.
Do you mean to suggest that I won’t get to retire the second I hit 65 and repair myself to a doublewide in Florida, where I can conveniently hit the early-bird special at the Tony Danza Dinner Theater? And what about blowing my monthly government check at the jai’lai parlor? Sir, those are the things of which dreams are made!
And exactly why shouldn’t the government send a check every month to Warren Buffett? Just because he’s richer than Croesus doesn’t make him any less deserving of his fair share of the wages earned by a 20-year-old working in a convenience store.
My paternal grandparents have now gone on to glory, but they last put in a crop when they were 70, with his-and-hers tractors, no less. They didn’t ever get the chance to enjoy a lovely late-afternoon at the Tony Danza Dinner Theater. But I will do it for them, and I’ll stick the bill to my kids and grandkids to boot. Shuffleboard anybody???
Excellent work, Operative JAB. ‘Puter especially likes the his ‘n’ hers tractors. Those grandparents of yours are the folks who built the prosperity we are now squandering.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.