Following release of the Nunes memo, concerned citizens were just starting to dust off their pitchforks and fill up their tar-and-feather barrels, when suddenly the market dropped faster than Bill Clinton's pants.
Did some highly-placed, highly-funded person or persons know exactly what and when to sell to send automatic trading computers into a cyber-stampede "flash crash?" We don't know, and we have no proof - but then, the idiot who wrote the "Fire and Fury" book about Trump doesn't have proof of anything either, and he got a bestseller out of it! At least the stuff that we're making up is plausible!
According to the head of the financial department here at Stilton's Place, the company retirement fund (and we quote) "took it in the nuts" on Monday. Fortunately, on Tuesday some of the painful swelling went down...although it may still be weeks before our portfolio can again ride a unicycle without agonizing pain.
Normally, we'd look at such a "rogue wave" financial event as being a fluke rather than a blatant manipulation. But now that we've gotten a look at the breadth and depth of the attempted manipulations during the last election, we're apt to be a little more suspicious than usual.
This is not as easy as it might seem. I ring in at 32.
In fairness, the majority of those illegals work hard during their annual, back-breaking harvest of taxpayer-funded entitlements. And let's not forget that you can't be a Dreamer without taking time for siestas.
It is thought by some that Ms. Pelosi chose to speak so long in order to quell growing rumors that she is suffering from senile dementia. It is thought by others that her remarks ran so long because she kept forgetting her place in what should have been a 20 minute speech and kept starting over again.
All we know is that Nancy has, once again, set a record which will always be enshrined in the hallowed annals of the STFU.
Still, the news that groundbreaking comedian Richard Pryor and mumbling blob Marlon Brando were lovers is just a little more than we can take without reaching for a stiff drink and then immediately regretting our use of the word "stiff." Also, remembering Brando's "Last Tango in Paris," we don't expect to be using butter again for a long, long time.
What bothers us isn't so much their proclivities, which are none of our business, but rather that hearing Pryor and Brando's names jammed together in this context puts specific images in our head that we don't want to have. In much the same way that we don't really want to imagine the bedroom bliss of entirely heterosexual luminaries like Danny DeVito and Rhea Perlman.
Then again, maybe we're just upset because the damn stock market is still plunging, so we're more than a little sensitive about any subject related to taking it up the poop chute.