Friday, March 24, 2017

A horrible, monstrous beast.

I saw Beauty and the Beast in the theater last night and was inspired to rewrite Gaston's song.  If there is any way we can get SNL to perform this, I think we should because it would be a big hit.  Please enjoy and feel free to sing along.




The Don (in bathrobe):

Who do they think they are?
The media’s tangled with the wrong man!
No one makes fun of the Don!


Le Spicy Fou:

Darn right.


The Don:

Dismissed!  Rejected!
Big-ly humiliated!
Why, it’s more than I can bear.


Le Spicy Fou (offers remote control):

Fox News?


The Don:

What for?  Nothing helps.
Everyone hates me.


Le Spicy Fou:

Who, you?  Never!
Don, you’ve got to pull yourself together.

Gosh it disturbs me to see you, oh Don,
Looking so down in the dumps.
Every guy here’d love to be you, oh Don,
Even those CNN chumps.

No one in the world’s as admired as you!
You’re everyone’s favorite guy!
Everyone’s awed and inspired by you
And it’s not very hard to see whyyyyyyyyy!

Noooooooooooo oneeeeeeee lies like the Don,
Thinks he’s spied on like Don,
Spreads conspiracy theories as blithely as Don!

How he bullies and growls he’ll get even,
And he will, sure as I’m Spicy Sean.
You can ask any Jeff, Reince, or Stephen,
And they’ll tell you whose team they prefer to be on!


Chorus:

No one’s rich as the Don!
Likes to bitch like the Don!
Tramples on laws and norms in the ditch like the Don!


The Don (swings around lamppost):

Yes, my tax returns are so incriminating!


Chorus:

My, what a guy, he’s our Don!

Give five “Heil Dons!” Give twelve “hip-hips!”


Le Spicy Fou (shakes podium menacingly):

The Don is the best and the rest of you are shit!


Chorus:

Noooooooo oneeeeeeeee’s mad as the Don,
Uses “Sad!” like the Don,
Wants to sleep with his daughter as bad as the Don!

For there’s no one so gross and so lonely.
He’s a narcissist pig, it’s no lie.
It’s no wonder Mel stayed in the city,
As she patiently waits for her husband to die!

No one tweets like the Don,
No one cheats like the Don,
Who grabs pussies with hands so petite as the Don’s!


The Don:

I’m especially good at retaliating! Sad!


Chorus:

Ten points for our Don!


The Don:

When I was a lad, my dad showed me no love.
My complexes blossomed and grew.
So now that I’m old, I’ve no shame to speak of,
And I’ll force all my wrath upon you!!!!!!


Chorus:

Noooooooo oneeeeeee’s orange as Don,
An abhorrence as Don,
Who will ban anything slightly foreign as Don.


The Don:

I use gold leaf in all of my decorating!


Le Spicy Fou:

Say it again!
Who’s a man among men?
Did we make you forget
You’re the worst president?
Who’s a super success?
Screw the Muslims!  The press!
Ask his minions and goons who is boss!
There’s just one guy in charge
And his name is writ large!!!!

And it’s V-L-A-D....
V-L-A-D-E….
V-L-A-D-I……..


Chorus:


The DON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




Friday, March 10, 2017

Meditations.

Will has gotten very into meditation.  My experience with meditation almost exclusively involves snoozing during guided meditations in my high school theology class (“You’re walking along a beautiful beach.  You see a stranger in the distance.  Oh!  It’s Jesus!”)  Mrs. Choa (our teacher) would begin the meditations with deep breathing exercises.  These proved counterproductive for me, because I quickly discovered that slowly inhaling and exhaling made it much easier for me to burst out laughing.  Instead I had to bite my lip and concentrate on not peeing in my pants laughing, which was very stressful and defeated the purpose of a calming meditation.  Sleep was my best option, and thankfully, (then as now) never difficult for me to accomplish.

Will’s knack for meditating may be rubbing off on me, however, because I recently found myself meditating on a particular image.


Enter meditation sequence.


There was once a time of universal consensus, when men, women, and children of all backgrounds and persuasions could join hands and agree: surely this image is photoshopped. 

Buffoons.
Before this image was just a twinkle in Vladimir Putin’s eye, we believed, as children believe, in the resilience of our democracy.  When we heard the words “Kid President”, we did not picture an orange 70-year-old having a tantrum.  We thought of this charming fellow:



When we heard the words “Donald Trump”, we thought “you’re fired”, not “yuge pussy-grabbing tiny hands”.  

Can we go back to that time?

No!  You are terrible at meditating.  BREATHE IN DEEPLY.  Nostalgia is not the way forward.  The time to be awesome is now. Go pack for your ski trip.




Meditation—still not my strong suit.  I should probably go back to running into Jesus at the beach.  Or just take a nap.