Sunday, March 25, 2018


Last year when MAD magazine was putting together it's "20 Dumbest" issue for 2017, one of the topics they were considering covering was Sean Spicer. This is the the rough proposal I sent them, which they rejected.

Spicer’s Island

Just sit right back
And you’ll hear a tale,
A tale of a fateful trip
That started on an escalator,
On the Avenue called Fifth.
The Mate was a lyin’ briefin’ man, 
The Skipper some big wheel,  
Five sycophants embarked that day   
On a four-year ordeal,
A four-year ordeal

The politics started getting rough,
The big White House was tossed
Because of the antics of the shameless crew
The Nation could be lost.
The Nation could be lost.

The Ship of State set aground
On this uncharted new reality
With Spicer and
The Donald too,
A millionaire and his wife      
A supermodel,
The Enforcer and Kellyanne,
Here on Spicer’s Isle!

(Ending verse)

So this is the tale of our nincompoops,
They’re here without a guide.
They try to make the worst of things,
It’s a downhill slide.

The First Mate and The Donald, too,
Will do their very best
To make the world uncomfortable
With a rambling Twitterfest.                 

No votes, no rights, no rule of law
Not a single liberty
Like Benito Mussolini,
It’s fascistic as can be.

So join us here each news cycle
You’re sure to become riled
By seven useless sacks of shit

Here on Spicer’s Isle!

No comments: