Wednesday, June 27, 2012

I Have A Plan (Part One)

I have a plan.
     I have a plan to revitalize Downtown El Paso, and it won't cost you, the taxpayer, one penny of the money you've worked so hard to squander. 
     It won't cost you $55 million to build a baseball stadium nobody wants for a Triple-A baseball team we may not get.  The only people who seem excited about wasting our money are the ones with access to our wallets, not anybody I've actually met or talked to.  Heck, the average El Pasoan doesn't even support the sports teams we do have, so I don't see a tsunami of enthusiasm for any sports team we don't have.  I'd say the average El Pasoan is as interested in acquiring another baseball team as the next guy, as long as the next guy is someone who isn't interested in acquiring another baseball team. 
     It won't cost you $3.5 million a year to lease office space for our various government agencies that will have to relocate when we tear down City Hall to make room for the stadium.  I would recommend our government agencies relocate to the drug cartel capital of the world Juarez, Mexico.  I hear rent is very cheap over there, as long as you don't mind dodging bullets and escaping kidnappers.
     And it won't cost you $35 million to rebuild a City Hall we already have.  That doesn't include the additional cost of land acquisition.  Or moving expenses.  Or fari vagnari a pizzu, if you get my drift.
     As for the cost of demolishing City Hall, actually I think we could make a profit on that.  All we'd have to do is offer it to Hollywood, and let Michael Bay film its demolition for his next bad action movie.  I can't wait to not see it.
     All told, you, the taxpayer will have to fork over--hmm, let's see... uh, carry the one... ah, um... let me round it off to an even $200 million, just because I can--it's going to cost you over $200 million!  With a bite that big out of your bank account, how will you be able to afford the latest iPhone? 
     In the end, will building a baseball stadium revitalize Downtown El Paso?  Did Cohen Stadium revitalize the Northeast? 
     I rest my case.
     So forget spending over $200 million building a Barbie Dream Home that would seat 9,000 drunken Kens.  El Paso doesn't even support the Diablos, so why would they support a Triple-A team? 
     I'm not into baseball, so maybe somebody can explain to me just what it means to be Triple-A.  Is that like coming in second on Donald Trump's Celebrity Apprentice, even though you earned three times more than your opponent did on your final task?  Triple-A is like the Clay Aiken of baseball, is that it?
     "It's going to be a big day for El Paso," City Manager Joyce Wilson said.  "It's our watershed moment."
     I don't know what the word "watershed" even means.  Is it anything like that Kevin Costner flop Waterworld?  In that case, she's probably right.  And isn't City Manager Joyce Wilson telling us that first we have to build a stadium before we find out if we get a baseball team kind of like former Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi telling us that we first had to pass President Obama's Health Care Bill before we could find out what was in it?
     I ran into El Paso's first honorary gay mayor, John Cook.  He was at El Paso's premiere gay nightclub, The Old Plantation, conducting "research."  I decided to ask him about it.
     "Could you please take your hand off my wallet?"
     "I'm sorry," he answered.  "I thought it was mine."
     Most politicians do.
     So what's my great plan?  I'm glad you asked, girlfriend.
     Let's give Downtown El Paso to the gays!

Fifty Shades of Funny

Saturday, June 23, 2012

Film At Eleven

I couldn't help but read in the El Paso Times newspaper that Afghanistan's president, Hamid Karzai, is complaining that the United States failed to consult with him before we launched an airstrike against our enemies in his country.
     "How can I warn the Taliban you're attacking," he whined like a baby, "if you do not let me know in advance?"
     $20 billion in his bank account later, he learned to forgive and forget.
     Meanwhile, in New York City, a Hasidic Jew is complaining that he was kicked out of the police academy for refusing to trim his beard.  Man, these Middle Eastern-types really know how to complain.  You would think they were soccer players. 
     Former recruit, Fishel Litzman, was fired after several confrontations with the NYC police department over the length of his whiskers.
     "What kind of a name is Fishel?" he was asked by the Daily News. 
     "It's my given name," he answered.
     "Give it back," they told him.
     Litzman is Hasidic, and believes that cutting his beard is forbidden by God.  NYPD rules require officers to be clean-shaven, but they were willing to make an exception if Litzman would bring in a note signed by Yahweh.
     Litzman declined to provide such a note.
     Speaking of God, someone paid $3.5 million in an auction for charity to have lunch with Nebraskan billionaire Warren Buffet.  You know, the guy who wants you to pay more in taxes. 
     $3.5 MILLION!  I'm glad to see that someone's not in the middle of a recession.
     And, since I'm on the subject of money, it's being estimated that Spain's bailout could cost $125 billion!
     "Hey, why's everybody looking at me?' asked a very broke United States.
     Meanwhile, the President of the United States of America, Barack Obama, was recently quoted as saying that the public sector is doing just fine.  I believe his exact quote was, "WILL YOU QUIT ASKING ME ABOUT THE ECONOMY!"  But his quote was taken out of context.  Hitler, or one of his cronies, once said that if you tell the same lie often enough, it'll become the truth.  Somebody else once said that perception is reality.  And my mom once said, "If you pick it, it won't heal."  What Obama said was, "I've just read a book that made a lot of sense.  The Secret.  If you speak it, it will come true.  Therefore, one word can equal one job.  So I'm going to give a lot of speeches with a lot of words so I can create a lot of jobs, and I'm not going to stop until I've created a job for every man, woman, and child.  Even those here illegally.  And according to quantum physics, the mere act of looking at something changes it, so I'm also going to take a good, hard look at our economy until it changes into something better.  I'm your president.  It's the least I can do."
     In a local story, I read that Texas Rep. Senators Kay Bailey Hutchison and John Cornyn introduced a bill that would allow cities and businesses to pay the federal government to add additional customs officers to international ports of entry.
     Isn't that what our taxes are supposed to pay for in the first place?
     "Well," Senator Hutchison explained, "while that may be true on the surface, if you look under the surface you'll find another surface, and on that surface you might find additional surfaces.  Some of those surfaces might be rough and dull, while other of those surfaces might be shiney and smooth.  But they're still all surfaces.  Does that answer your question?"
     Not really, but isn't that just a way to increase our taxes without having to say that you're increasing our taxes?
     "No," Senator Cornyn said, shaking his head.  "In no way are those taxes.  That's just the federal government taking your money to supply you with government services.  If that's not clear enough, then I can go over the whole 'surfaces' thing again, if you'd like."
     Um, no thanks.  I'd rather have Obama explain The Secret to me again.
     While, across the border in Mexico, it's been determined by the Nobel Women's Initiative that just in the state of Chihuahua alone the rate of women being murdered is 15 times higher than the world rate, and has grown worse with the Mexican government's crackdown against the drug cartels.
     When asked about this horrifying statistic, Ms. Connie Lingus, the president of NOW--the National Organization of Women--said, "As long as they weren't denied their rights to have an abortion while they were being murdered, we're not interested."
     And that, my friends, is the news.

Fifty Shades of Funny

Friday, June 15, 2012

Electric Donkey Bottom Biter

A vitriolic, to the point of being just plain nasty, series of comments on Facebook has the Department of Public Safety patrolling the house of state Rep. Marisa Marquez from El Paso, Texas.
     Tom Vinger, a spokesman for the DPS, said, "We have to put everything else on the back burner.  Child molesters, women abusers, jay walkers...  all that stuff is unimportant compared to this."  His statement was punctuated by his ignoring of a man on fire running around wildly behind him.
     A state trooper was parked outside the house of the El Paso state lawmaker since Thursday, sometimes only being seen by the glow of his cell phone light, when Rep. Marquez reported a conversation on the social networking website that she felt crossed the line from political criticism to "really getting my goat." 
     The comments were posted on the Facebook page of Alejandro Guzman, who later said that he did not write his comments as a threat, but, rather, was quoting from Monty Python & The Holy Grail, his favorite movie.
     "I thought Rep. Marquez was a fan," he said, "but I guess I was wrong."
     The following is a transcript of their exchange.

     Marquez:  Well, who are you then?
     Guzman:  I'm Alejandro Guzman.  Why do you think I have this outrageous accent, you silly thing?
     Marquez:  What are you doing on Facebook?
     Guzman:  Mind your own business! 
     Marquez:  You better answer me, mister.  I'M a state lawmaker.
     Guzman:  You don't frighten me, you border pig-dog.  Go and boil your bottom, daughter of a silly person. 
     Marquez:  How dare you!
     Guzman:  I blow my nose on you, you so-called state lawmaker.  You and all your silly lawmakers.  Thpppt! 
     Marquez:  What do you want from me? 
     Guzman:  I don't want to talk to you no more, you empty-headed animal food trough wiper.  I fart in your general direction. 
     Marquez:  You are a sick, sick man.
     Guzman:  And your mother was a hamster, and your father smelled of elderberries.
     Marquez:  Is there someone else I could talk to?
     Guzman:  No.  Now go away or I shall taunt you a second time. 
     Marquez:  This is outrageous.
     Guzman:  And this one is for your mother:  Thpppt! 
     Marquez:  If you don't cut it out, mister, I'm going to contact the Department of Public Safety, because that's who you're supposed to call when you're being harassed or threatened.  And, if that's not enough, I'll call the Sanitation Department.
     Guzman:  Ah, daffy El Paso state lawmaker, who has the brain of a duck, you know.
     Marquez:  You don't scare me.
     Guzman:  I unclog my nose toward you, daughter of a window-dresser.  So you think you could out-clever me, with your silly knees-bent running about advancing behavior. 
     Marquez:  You're not even making any sense.
     Guzman:  I wave my private parts at your aunties, you heaving lot of brightly-colored, mealy-tempered, cranberry-smelling, second-hand electric donkey bottom biter. 
     Marquez:  Can't we just put all this unpleasantness behind us?
     Guzman:  No chance, you border bed wetting type.  I burst my pimples at you, and call your request a silly thing.  You tiny-brained wiper of other people's bottoms. 
     Marquez:  That's it.  This time you've gone over the line, mister.  I'm calling the DPS.
     Guzman:  Yes, this time, and try any more or we fire arrows at the tops of your head, and make castanets out of your testicles already.  Ha, ha! 
     Marquez:  You're insane.  I'm leaving.
     Guzman:  No, remain, you illegitimate-faced bugger folk, and, if you think you got a nasty taunting this time, you ain't heard nothing yet, daffy El Paso state lawmaker.  Thpppt! 
     Marquez:  Good-Bye!
     Guzman:  Perfidious border mouse-dropping hoarder.  How you say:  "Begorrah!"

     That ended the exchange between Rep. Marisa Marquez and Alejandro Marquez, not exactly the the two more colorful crayons in the box. 
     "Hey," Tom Vinger was later quoted as saying, "who's that guy on fire behind me?"
     Vinger then excused himself to go get marshmallows.
     One interesting aspect of this whole brouhaha, are the postings of an individual who goes by the Facebook name of Tierra O Muerte, which translates into "dirty deeds done dirt cheap," or maybe I'm thinking of something else. 
     "I'm going to punch her so hard her future children are going to be born with dents in their heads and no one will know why," he said in a posting that was eventually taken down.
     "In no way was that a threat," Mr. O Muerte said.  "What I meant to say was:  If the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie...  what would a taco feel like?"
       His name was not listed on Facebook, but the fine reporters at the El Paso Times were able to determine that he was, in fact, Ethan Seamans, an educator.  That's right, folks, an educator.  Now don't you feel better sending your kids to school next year?
     I asked him how he came to be so mean and spiteful.
    "Try growing up with the name Seamans," he answered.  "Nobody knows the vicious taunts and insults I've had to endure growing up."
     I had no idea what he meant.
     Seamans...  Seamans...  Hmm... 
     So he's an educator, eh?

Fifty Shades of Funny

Saturday, June 9, 2012

America's Safest City!

On June 16th, in El Paso, there will be a nationally televised boxing championship match between Julio Cesar Chavez and Andy "Not-Related-To-Bruce" Lee.
     There's been a lot of controversy, not about the fight itself, but because, back in April, University of Texas System Chancellor Francisco G. Cigarroa stopped the match from happening at the Sun Bowl Stadium, citing security concerns.  When asked to cite his concerns, the Chancellor said, "Hey, I'M the Chancellor.  I don't have to cite nothing." 
     "Could you please speak into the microphone?"
     "Uh, did I say it was off?  What I meant to say was that--HEY!  What's that?"
     And--BAM!--he was gone. 
     So the fight will be in El Paso, after all. 
     Cigarroa later released a video, and, you know what?  I still don't think Kim Kardashian is all that.  She's got too much pork for just one fork, if you get my drift. 
     Unfortunately, the one condition to Francisco's concession, is that no alcohol will be served at the event. 
     "But what if the President shows up?" he was asked.
     "If that's the case, we might make an exception for weed and blow," the Chancellor conceded.
     "Uh...  we meant the President of the University."
     "Ah...  well... um--HEY!  What's that?"
     And--BAM!--he was gone. 
     The system issued no other statement.
     So thank you to Mayor John Cook (El Paso's first honorary gay mayor), the community, and officials from the University of Texas at El Paso for...  well, I'm not quite sure what they did, but I'm sure they did something.  (That's what I tell my kids when I spank them for no reason.  "I don't know what you did, but I'm sure you did something.")
     "All's well that ends well," Mayor Cook said.
     "We learn from our mistakes," Chancellor Cigarroa said.
     "A stitch in time saves nine," is what I always say.
     The whole problem is that El Paso is perceived by the rest of the country as being unsafe because of the drug war that's happening just across the border in Mexico. 
     Texas Governor Rick Perry said something along the lines of "Car bombs are going off in the streets of El Paso!"  I'd have gotten the actual quote, but I've already had one too many beers, and would rather take a nap. 
     "Aw, Governor," he was told.  "That's completely untrue."
     "Of course it is," clarified the Governor.  "What I meant to say is that there's no way Oswald could have shot Kennedy."
     One of our local politicians, Chente "El Quickee" Quintana, also said something along the lines of "Car bombs are going off in the streets of El Paso!"  Or maybe that was the Governor.  I don't know.  All I know is that beer is like women.  One is too many, and a million aren't enough.  Which is another way of saying that maybe I should do some actual research to verify these quotes, but then I'd have to find out what office Quintana actually holds in El Paso, and, to tell the truth, I'd rather have another beer.
     When it was pointed out to Chente that his statement was completely untrue, he said, "Of course it is.  What I meant to say is there had to have been a second gunman in the grassy knoll.  By the way, what's a 'knoll'?"
     So with our very own politicians planting these false stories, what chance does El Paso have for getting out the truth?
     What is the truth?
     I'm glad you asked.
     The truth is that El Paso is the safest city in America.  And how do we get the truth out to the American public?
     Man, you sure do ask a lot of questions, my friend. 
     Our fine city's answer is to emblazon the words "America's Safest City--El Paso!" on the mat of the boxing ring.  Myself, I would change the city's message on the boxing mat between every round.

El Paso!  We're Not Fat, We're Just Big-Boned!
Forget Columbia!  Our Prostitutes Know How To Keep Their Mouths Shut!
Come To El Paso!  We Need The Money!

     You get the picture. 
     I even thought that the Ring Girls could have a phrase or a word or a name stitched onto the round, curvy side of their short shorts as they paraded around the boxing ring holding up a sign telling the audience
Hey, Look At My Butt!
     Instead of
Hot Stuff
their derrieres could say
El Paso!
America's Safest City!
My Eyes Are Up Here! 
     All these exclamation points got me so excited I went straight to City Hall and demanded to see Mayor Cook so I could tell him all about my great idea.  After all this time, I'm sure he's forgiven me for those pictures I posted on Facebook.
     As the police were hauling me off to jail, I couldn't help but laugh.  The joke was on them.
     It was Tecate night at the jailhouse.

Fifty Shades of Funny

Friday, June 8, 2012

The Queen's Diamond Jubilee

What a great time I had at the Queen of England's Diamond Jubilee.
     Of course, I wasn't invited.  I've been persona non grata since the time the Queen and I snuck off to Tijuana.  We didn't come back for four days.  Man, that lady can party.  When we finally made it back to England, I had to leave her passed out in a shopping cart at the front gate of her castle. 
     So, anyway, I just decided to crash the Jubilee.
     The whole extravagant affair reminded me of when I was invited to the royal wedding between Prince William and Kate Middleton.  Unfortunately, I couldn't make it.  I had jury duty that day.
     Prince Charles was upset, but he's been upset at me ever since he found out I knew Lady Di before she was a lady.
     Years later, after his divorce, he called to ask me to perform the marriage ceremony in his then up-coming nuptials to Camilla Bowes.  I refused for religious reasons.  I don't believe in inter-species marriages.
     "Jim, you were right," he told me.  "I never should have married Diana."
     "I never said you shouldn't marry her.  What I said was : 'Why buy the cow...' "
     So, although I didn't perform the ceremony, as a personal favor to him I kept the Queen Mum out of everybody's way during the wedding.  Her stories tend to be long and tedious.  She's used to people having to pretend to be interested.  Unfortunately for her, I'm not one of those people.
     "Did I ever tell you how," she rambled in that high-pitched squeel of hers, "during World War II, after each time we were bombed by the Germans, I would go for a walk to reassure my subjects?"
     "Yeah, but only fourteen times.  Tell me again."
     And she did!  Royalty never gets the hint.  So I excused myself.
     "I have to see a man about a horse," I told her.
     "Why, I never!" she sputtered.
     "And with that face, you never will."
     I turned and bumped right into her husband, the Duke of Earl.
     "Who are you?"
     "I'm her husband."
     "Then why aren't you the king?"
     "Well, that's a long story," he said, taking a deep breath in preparation for the exhalation of many boring words.
     "Then I don't want to hear about it," I said, and exited stage left.
     But I digress...
     Prince William was disappointed that I wouldn't be there to throw him one of my legendary bachelor parties.  He had heard about the one I threw for his father in Las Vegas.  We ended up stealing Mike Tyson's pet tiger that night.  I took a few of Mike's pigeons, too.  They make for some good eating. 
     It was in Vegas that we met the Runaway Bride, Jennifer Wilbanks.  She was celebrating her own personal bachelorette party by throwing back tequila shots, falling down a lot, and laughing hysterically for no reason whatsoever.  By the end of our night of debauchery her eyes were permanently bugged out.  They never went back to normal.
     "This is too much, even for me, dude," Charlie Sheen said disgustedly, and left.
     But, once again, I digress...
     Prince Charles made a final attempt to get me to go to his son's wedding.
     "Don't forget," he reminded me, "someday I'll be Queen."
     "You mean King."
     "That, too."
     So I sent a crock-pot, and my apologies.

El Paso!  Where You Never Have To Put Up With The B.S. Of European Royalty...  Ever!

Fifty Shades of Funny

Sunday, June 3, 2012

O'Rourke Beats Reyes!

In a stunning upset that made national news, former El Paso city Rep. Beto O'Rourke beat U.S. Rep. Silvestre Reyes, who was trying to do his best impression of a political barnacle, in the 16th Congressional race. 
     When they heard the news, O'Rourke's campaign staff hoisted him into the air, chanted "Beto!  Beto!  Beto!", and then doused him with champagne, the drink of the common man.
     Meanwhile, in another part of town, Reyes' supporters looked worried as the elections results came in.  Reyes no sooner stepped off the elevator, than he was given the bad news by a staff member.  His friendly smile quickly turned upside down, and he hastily stepped back into the elevator.  Then he stepped back out.  Then he stepped back in.  Then he put his right foot out.  He put his right foot in.  He put his right foot out, and he shook it all about.  He did the hokey-pokey, and he turned himself around, and that's when the doors to the elevator closed. 
     The staffer who briefed him promised that he would return soon.  Behind the elevator doors, hysterical crying could be heard. 
     When Reyes returned, his eyes red from joy, he was asked whether he had made any mistakes.
     "If we hadn't done what we did--phone banking, contacting over 30,000 homes, the kind of things we did--we ran a professional campaign,"  Reyes answered, making no sense and completely misunderstanding the question. 
     Reyes then turned to his faithful staff, and spoke his thanks.
     "Four score, and seven years ago," he began, "I was a young man with big dreams.  Thanks to all of you here today, those dreams have been destroyed.  Destroyed like the Titanic from that movie, uh, I forget what the name of it is.  Never have so many worked so hard to accomplish so little, but that's either here nor there.  Well, it's kind of here, and a little there.  Maybe more than a little.  Maybe not.  It's hard to say.
     "But I don't blame my loss completely on you.  I also blame all the negative news coverage I received.  Who knew that every statement I made or fact I quoted would be verified by the El Paso Times for it's truthfulness. 
     "I blame the $140,000 spent by a super PAC to defeat me.  That money would have been better spent on hiring my kids. 
     "And I blame Beto O'Rourke.  What can I say about O'Rourke?  He deliberately ran a nasty, dirty campaign.  The way he brought to the public's attention everything I did or didn't do, was uncalled for.  Like most politicians, I ran on my experience and my connections, not on my record, because, if I ran on my record, I would have been voted out of office long ago.  Just you wait, when the voters who voted for O'Rourke find out how naive my opponent is about the way things work in Washington, they'll wish they had voted for you-know-who.  By you-know-who, I mean me
     "O'Rourke's foreign policy experience is confined to having once eaten at the International House of Pancakes.  I've been told that it's had to be explained to him several times that international affairs does not mean cheating on your wife with a girl from another country. 
     "And just wait until he legalizes marijuana, or "weed" as the President fondly refers to it, just you wait.
     "I'd like to thank President Clinton for not hitting on my wife or any of my daughters while he was in El Paso endorsing me.  I'd also like to thank President Obama, who endorsed me, but wasn't able to come to town, because he was busy washing his hair that week.  Has Nancy Pelosi called yet?  No?  I'm sure she will as soon as she gets some feeling back into her face.
     "And, while I'm at it, let me just say that O'Rourke's claims that I was tied to any of the people involved in the public corruption investigations are completely false.  Vito Corleone and Tony Soprano are merely acquaintances of mine, and nothing more.  The reason I decided to keep campaign donations from them was so that I could give the money to my favorite charity:  my family. 
     "And I flat-out deny awarding a no-bid contract to a company that hired some, if not all, of my children, and then donated $17,000 to my re-election campaign.  I don't care what anybody says, that's not me in the video accepting that money.
     "But my loss today is not my loss alone.  It's also the loss of the United States of America.  It's always been my dream to make this country into what it once was... 
     " Artic region covered in ice."
Fifty Shades of Funny

With The Recent Elections...

With the recent elections, I'm reminded of the Senate race in Connecticut of just a few years back between Richard Blumenthal and Linda McMahon.
     Richard Blumenthal was the eventual winner, but what made the race interesting was Mrs. McMahon.  She's the ex-CEO of World Wrestling Entertainment (the WWE).  Her style was was more used car dealer, than politician.
     "Hi," she said in one ad, where she came out riding a hippopotamus.  "I'm Linda McMahon, and this is my dog Spot  I'll eat a bug for your vote."
     In the one debate between them that I had the misfortune of watching, I half wondered if I was watching Jackass 3D by mistake.  It was obvious that Blumenthal felt superior to the wife of the WWE's head hookah, Vince McMahon.  After all, Mrs. McMahon was a woman whose job as CEO sometimes required her to kick her to kick her husband in the groin.  A job, I might add, my ex-wives would do for free.
     I remember seeing McMahon walking over to Blumenthal.
     "You don't understand business," she explained to him.  "It's not your fault.  You've been in government all your life."
     As he smiled at her condescendingly--WHAM!--she sucker-punched him right in the gut.  The moderator of the debate jumped up.  McMahon lifted her hands in a what-did-I-do? gesture, and then slammed her elbow down on top of Blumenthal's head.
     The audience went wild. 
     "What?  What?" she asked them, innocently.
     Vince McMahon, meanwhile, distracted the moderator.
     "The way Blumenthal hit my wife was uncalled for," Vince yelled in the poor guy's face. 
     "He didn't hit her," the moderator argued back.  "She hit him!"
     But Vince's strategy worked.  He managed to get the moderator's back to the action, so the moderator didn't see Linda looking around and finding a metal folding chair.  Linda picked it up, and lifted it high above her head, but before she could deliver the crushing blow, President Clinton came out of nowhere, grabbed the chair, and jerked it out of her hands.  Clinton slammed the chair between her shoulder blades.  President Obama then came in with a flying kick that knocked her to the floor.  Obama lifted her by her hair.  He secured her arms behind her back.  Clinton punched her.  Again.  Again.  And again.  Obama finally let her go.  She rocked back and forth, unsteady on her feet.  Meanwhile, the moderator was still looking everywhere but the stage.  He was missing the whole fight!  Linda stood there.  Helpless.
     "Your turn!" Clinton told Blumenthal.
     "Get her!" Obama spat.
     Blumenthal then put his hand on his opponent's shoulder to steady her.  He pulled back a fist, and was about to knock her into the next election cycle, when--BAM!--he was down.  Linda was just playing possum.  A swift kick between Blumenthal's legs ended the fight...
     ...and then she went after Clinton and Obama.
     When the debate's moderator finally turned around he saw the three Democrats unconscious on the floor.  He had no choice but to declare McMahon the winner.
     "How do you feel?" he asked her.
     "It sure beats eating bugs," she said.

Fifty Shades of Funny