Nothing heralds spring better than the arrival the small bird called “Peeps.” This migratory bird usually arrives mid-March and stays until well after Easter. Peeps are native to North American, particularly in the USA. Ornithologists first identified peeps as a separate species about sixty years ago but know very little about their life cycle. Ornithologists spotted the first peep near Philadelphia, but now people see peeps all over North America. Peeps are a member of the chicken family. They do not nest in trees but prefer to be inside usually near a source of food like candy.     

It is a colorful, tiny bird – usually less than two inches high. They are usually a solid pink, blue, green or orange in color but may be any color. The males and females of this rare species have identical colors and markings. In fact, it is impossible to distinguish male peeps from female peeps. Ornithologists are certain that the species does mate since they find their eggs wherever peeps are found. There is no documentation on any eggs hatching. The eggs are so tasty that they can be eaten raw, so none has ever survived to maturity to hatch peep chicks. Peeps themselves will disappear if not locked away. No peeps have survived captivity very long. Ornithologists believe that peeps migrate to the place of their birth to mate, much like salmon. The rest of the year, this shy bird will hide.    

“Peeps” is actually a misnomer since these birds have no vocal cords. You will not hear a peep out of them. However, some people claim that they have heard peeps call their name. I have had this experience.    
 
They like to stay in small groups of five or six and stick together. In fact, it takes some effort to separate one peep from another. A group of five or six is a packet. Two or more packets form a family pak. Peeps have a mellow disposition. Ornithologists believed that peeps live in lowland marshes the rest of the year; hence, the scientific name of Marshmallow Peep. Hunting peeps is easy since you do not find peeps – peeps find you.  
​   
Peeps are quite tasty eaten raw. I have seen a recipe where the peeps are lightly toasted, smothered with chocolate and served on a gram cracker. The taste will leave begging for s’more.

I read with interest an item on my news feed that more than 7,000 people have signed a petition to sell Montana to #Canada for $1 trillion. The money would be used to pay down the national debt. Whoa! That raised a lot of red flags:

Are we talking US dollars or Canadian dollars? Don’t fall for this trap. Currently one US dollar is worth 1.321 Canadian dollars. A trillion Canadian dollars is only $0.7566 trillion US dollars. A common mistake. You must state the details.

This sale reeks of a scam. Be honest--how many of you would buy a state, any state, let alone Montana, for a trillion dollars?

Why Montana? Have you seen Montana? I doubt it’s worth that much. It doesn’t have four seasons. There is winter and … That’s it--just winter. There’s a reason not many people live there. Three percent of #Yellowstone National Park is in Montana. What about that?

Montana doesn’t Make sense. It would put a big dip in our northern boundary. Alaska would be a better deal. #Alaska isn’t connected the “lower” 48 states. It’s already connected to Canada. It might be worth a trillion dollars. Secretary of State William Seward paid Russia $7.2 million for Alaska. We’re sure to make a profit.

What about the 800,000 people who live in Montana? How many of them signed the petition? Do they have to relocate? Do they then become citizens of Canada? Can they have dual citizenship?

Would the US build a wall around Montana? That would extend the northern boundary by several hundred miles.

I imagine that selling Montana will screw up property values in Wyoming, Idaho, North Dakota and South Dakota. I recall that Wyoming got upset when Colorado made a bid for the Winter Olympics several years ago.

Hopefully, cooler heads will prevail and up the price to two trillion.  ​

The investigating officers found the victim’s wife’s cellphone at the murder scene. The phone still displayed the last text message. Below is what they saw: 
  
UNKNOWN CALLER: Hey, you awake?     4:05 AM  
 
VICTIM’S WIFE: I am now. Wait 1 while I move 2 BR. Ok. Back. Didn’t want 2 wake husband. It’s 4 am. WTF?    4:06 AM 
   
UNKNOWN CALLER: Sorry. Couldn’t sleep. Thinking of u. Do u still want 2 kill husband?                                4:07AM                                                                 
VICTIM’S WIFE: Yes. How?                        4:07 AM  
  
UNKNOWN CALLER: Get hammer out of toolbox & use that. Hit head. Less mess.     4:07 AM 
   
VICTIM’S WIFE: OK. ...Done. Now what?                                               4:18 AM  
 
UNKNOWN CALLER: B rt over. We drag body to ft of stairs. Make it look like he fell down stairs and smashed head.                                                                                  4:18 AM    

VICTIM’S WIFE: Bob, we don’t have stairs.                                          4:18 AM. 
   
UNKNOWN CALLER: Bob? Who’s Bob? Wait... Is this Karen at 555-2134  4:19 AM. 
   
VICTIM’S WIFE: No...I’m Sue.                                                            4:19 AM
    
UNKNOWN CALLER: Sorry. Wrong #. bye.                                           4:20 AM.
​
THE END
​

Currently, many politicians are throwing their hats into the ring to run for POTUS in 2020, Yet, it seems every day there’s a new revelation about one politician or another about something in their past. I believe the problem is that there isn’t an application for candidates to complete before they’re allowed to run for office. Applications are required for jobs, college, driver licenses, etc. Why isn’t there an application requirement for candidates? The entire situation cries out for one.
 
As a community service I offer up a draft application that could be easily be adopted for candidates wishing to run for office.
 
Of course, there’s the normal heading. Then come the following questions:
 
1.      Please indicate the party you wish to represent. (Select all that apply)
      ___Democratic Party         ___Republican Party         ___Independent Party
      ___Socialist Party              ___Communist Party        ___Green Party
      ___Constitution Party        ___Libertarian Party         ___Nazi Party
      ___Federalist Party            ___Bachelor Party            ___Other(s) _________
 
2.      Have you ever been convicted of a crime? ___Yes   ___No  ___Not Yet   ___Pending
a.       What crime(s) ________________
 
3.      Have you ever been accused of sexual harassment?
___Once          ___Twice        ___Three or more       ___Not yet
 
4.      Are you a racist? ___Yes        ___No              ___Not Yet  
a.       Which race(s) do you hate? _____________
 
5.      Have you ever smoked marijuana?  ___Yes   ___No         ___Not Yet
        a.       Did you inhale?  ___Yes      ___No       ___ Maybe   ___Not Sure  
 
6.      Have you ever used illegal drugs? ___Yes    ___No  ___Not Yet
       ___Not sure ___Maybe
 
7.      Have you ever taken selfies: (check all that apply)
___ Nude ___ Partially nude ___Just my genitalia ___Wearing a racist costume
___ Having sex ___Drinking ___All of the above ___None of the above
 
8.      Did you ever sext? ___Yes     ___No  ___Not Yet ___Not sure ___Maybe
 
9.      How would you declare your sexual orientation? (check all that apply)
___Male  ___Female ___Transgender ___ Unknown ___ Not sure ___Other(s)

10.  Are you ethical? ___Yes ___No ___Sometimes  ___Depends ___Never ___Always
 
11.  How would you describe your political orientation? (Check all that apply)
___ Right                  ___ Left                   ___Center             ___ Left of Center
___ Right of Center    ___ Center of Center ___Top of Center  ___Bottom Feeder
___Left out               ___ Right on
 
12.  How would you describe your financial position? (Check all that Apply)
___ Top 1%          ___Bottom 1%         ___Upper Class       ___Low Class
___Middle Class     ___ No Class            ___Upper Middle Class
___Lower Middle Class          ___ Lower Upper Class          ___Upper Low Class
 
There should be more. Let me know if you think of some.
​

I post this story every year for #Valentine’s Day. I’m sorry if you have read it. I like it because it is 80% true, only the names have been changes to protect me, I mean the innocent.

A #Zombie’s Valentine’s Day—A Short Short Story​

I hate holidays. Not the ones with a three-day weekend, just the ones invented by greeting card companies. One year I forgot Valentine’s Day until the day it arrived. Usually, I order flowers online for my wife. After all, she is the mother of two of our beautiful children, and a third not so beautiful child. In desperation, I drove to the nearest box store.

The scene at the flower department was a disaster; flowers flung everywhere; stems bent, leaves torn and flowers missing petals. I searched desperately for a gift: a small bouquet, a potted plant, or even a single rose. Nothing.

Several other men in my predicament also searched in vain like zombies from the Night of the Living Dead. At some point, I bumped into the department manager. Her hair was in disarray, her blouse wrinkled and stained, and she wore no shoes. I asked if I could get a corsage. She gave me an exasperated look and shook her head.

I decided to use my well-developed technique that seems to help in desperate situations; I began to cry. She took pity on me, put my head on her shoulder, and patted my back.

“Perhaps,” she said. “They can make you one in the back.” As I shuffled in the direction she pointed, I heard her shout, “Dead man walking!”

When I arrived at the rear of the store, the scene wasn’t much better. I saw two women making corsages as fast as possible. Both had Band-Aids on every finger. The trash was full of flowers ruined by blood from pricked fingers. As fast as one was made they put it into a petite white box.

When I asked if I could buy one, both women immediately stopped working, and looked at me as though I was the person in the elevator who farted. I was in trouble. The bigger of the two leaned forward.

“Do you realize how many local high schools have Valentine’s Day dances tonight?” Pointing to the stacks of white cardboard boxes, “We still have to make 150 more corsages, and have them ready for pick up in one hour.”

I fell back on my proven technique and began to cry; my lower lip quivered, and tears collected in the corners of my eyes. She softened. “Oh God, not another cry baby!” she shouted. “Okay! Okay! You can have one.”
​
I returned home carrying the corsage like a cat with a prize bird and presented it to my wife. She looked surprised and uttered those words that every man loves to hear. “You remembered!”

THE END
 

Tim turned down the alley that served as a short cut to school. He knew better. The school bullies haunted that alley and took his lunch money if he dared to venture down the alley. But today was going to be different.

Sure enough, half way down the alley four teenager, not much older that Tim, blocked his path. “You don’t have permission to use our short cut,” one of the bullies said. “That’ll cost ya. Fork over your lunch money.”

Tim smiled. “Not today.” As he spoke a drone, three feet in diameter, rose up behind Tim.

“What the hell is that?” another bully asked.

“That’s my new anti-bully drone that my parents bought for me. It won’t let you hurt me. Best of all, it’s recording everything.”

“Bull shit,” shouted another bully as he picked up a rock and hurled it at the drone. The drone easily dodged the rock and lights allover the drone lit up.

“Danger, Tim. Danger,” an automated voice said. The drone flew in a tight circle around the bullies at high speed. As it did, it sprayed out a dark green dye on the youths.

Tim laughed. “That dye won’t wash off. It’ll make it easier for the police to find you.” The bullies looked at each other and took off running. Tim laughed even harder.

Once the bullies were out of sight, the drone landed a few feet from Tim. Tim’s best friend, Billy, came running up with a remote-control box in his hands. “Do you think they believe it?” he asked.

“I think so, Tim said. “I doubt they’ll bully me anymore.” He and Billy fist bumped and continued walking to school.
​
THE END
​

​Rumor has it that Virginia Gov. Ralph Northam may take Intensive Sensitivity Training. I was able to obtain from a confidential source a copy of the “intense sensitivity training” that seems to be so popular now with politicians these days. The program known as Bogus and Unauthentic Legalized Larceny and Spurious Hypocritical Intense Therapy (BULL SH*T) is used through the USA to help politicians keep their reputations and office. This intense therapy is intended to last for one week. Below is a copy of the curriculum. Enjoy!
 
Sunday Optional Mixer
Join us in a mixer for all attendees Sunday night at 7 PM until?  Meet the instructors and fellow politicians who have fallen from grace. Open bar and free #marijuana tasting (not yet available in all states).
 
Monday Session
How to Hold a Press Conference 101. Learn how to deny charges without using the telltale signs for lying. Learn how to say “intense therapy” with a straight face. Panel discussion with panelists Donald #Trump, #Bill Clinton, Ralph Northam (VA Gov.) and # Kevin Spacey.
 
Tuesdays Sessions
Political Ethics—A Thing of the Past? Special guest instructor former EPA Administrator Scott Pruitt.
 
Wednesday Sessions
Cheating on your wife 101. Learn how to hide the truth from your current wife. With special guest instructor POTUS Donald Trump. Learn how to hide illegitimate children from expert Arnold #Schwarzenegger, ex-Governor of California.
 
Thursday Sessions
How to Lie to Congress and Grand Juries. Panel discussion with Trump's ex-lawyer Michael Cohen and Trump’s former campaign chairman Paul Manafort.
 
Friday Sessions
Yes, You Can Be Re-elected. Instructor--#MarkSanford, re-elected Congressman for South Carolina.
Afternoon Session. How to Publicly Apologize and Look Sincere. Enjoy a panel discussion with panelists Roseanne Barr, Kevin Spacey and Virginia Gov. Ralph Northam.
 
Closing Ceremony: Graduation ceremony for those who have not dropped out of the program, not under a gag order or been indicted.

I know I’ve post this before, but I love it. Here is a short story on how to become a bestselling author-post humorously.  
​
How to become a Bestselling Dead Author 

Joe Regan was a writer. His suicide note was not his best piece of work. It simply read, “Fair well cruel world.” Joe took all the sleeping pills and sat down in his recliner. When he opened his eyes again, he was looking into the face of his agent, Bernie Blackwell.    

Bernie smiled and brushed back Joe’s hair. “Hey.”    

“Hey. Oh, my head hurts.” Joe looked around. “Where am I?”  

“You are in St. Thomas Hospital. I found you and called 911. The doctors pumped your stomach. You’ve been in a coma for five days, man.”    

“Oh. I don’t know if I should thank you or not. I just wanted to die.”    

“I know, man. I found your note. Why did you do it?”    

Joe smiled. “You’re my agent. I think you know why. My novel has been rejected by 45 publishers and I haven’t earned a dime in three years.”    

Bernie chuckled. “It’s 47 publishers now. I didn’t get a chance to tell you about the last two. However, while you were in a coma, I’ve been busy. I posted your suicide note on a few key social media websites and wrote what a tragedy it was since your novel’s so great.”    

“My suicide note? I didn’t say much in my note.”   
 
Bernie smiled. “Yeah, well, I sort of rewrote it. I also went ahead and published the e-book version of your novel. It’s going viral. We sold over 10,000 copies in four days. We now have offers from three publishers. I think if you had died, your novel would make the best sellers’ list.”   

“Lucky me! I have to nearly kill myself for my novel to sell.” 
   
“Joe, what do you expect? You wrote a romance novel about gay pygmies living in San Francisco-not a great genre. Anyway, since you really don’t want to live, would you consider killing yourself? It would mean a lot to me. I could help.”  
  
“What! My novel is finally published, and you want me to kill myself? Are you crazy?”    

Bernie shrugged his shoulders. “No big deal. Come on, get up. I brought a wheelchair. I’m taking you out of here.” He handed Joe a glass of water and some pills. “Here, take these.”    

Joe took the pills with the water. With Bernie’s help, he got into the wheelchair. Bernie wheeled Joe out of ICU and headed for the elevators. Bernie pushed the up-call button for the elevator.  
  
“Where are you taking me?”    

“Don’t worry about it. I am taking you to the tenth floor. The second elevator is out of service. I should be able to open the doors there.”  
  
“Bernie, I don’t feel so good. What were those pills?”    
” Sleeping pills.”

“I took four. Am I supposed to take that many?”    

“No, man. You’re supposed to take only one every 12 hours.”    

“Won’t that kill me?”   
 
“No. It’ll make you comatose. In your condition, you won’t notice that the elevator’s not there. The fall from the tenth floor will kill you.”    

“But Bernie, I don’t want to die any more. I want to live.”    

“Listen, man. I’m telling you. If you die, we’ll make the best sellers’ list. We’ll be able to negotiate a big contract. We’ll attract more talented writers.”    

“We? I’ll be dead.”   
 
The elevator arrived, and Bernie pushed the wheelchair inside and pushed the tenth-floor button.    
“Well, yeah,” said Bernie. “Quit thinking about yourself for once. Did you even consider me? This is my big break. When I post your next suicide note, I’ll sell a million copies of your novel. Plus, I am sure I can get a six-figure advance for your next novel.”  
  
“My next novel? I never wrote a second novel.”

“It will be found among your things after your death.”  
  
“Bernie, don’t do this. I don’t want to die.”  
​  
“Quit being selfish! Close your eyes now and rest. It’ll all be over in a few minutes. You are going to be a bestselling author. Congratulations.