Ron. He's your ideal presidential candidate and he's with the Ronatarian Party. With his running mate, Brad, they are an unstoppable political force.
Saint Patrick was a gentleman,
Who through strategy and stealth,
Drove all the snakes from Ireland,
Here’s a toasting to his health.
But not too many toastings
Lest you lose yourself and then
Forget the good Saint Patrick
And see all those snakes again.
"Beannachtam na Feile Padraig!"
Happy St. Patrick's Day from Ron!
Posted by Bittle at 05:00 AM
Jersey City, New Jersey, February 27, 2017:
Jersey City Police answered a strange call from Ronatarian Party founder and leader Ron early Sunday morning that has them howling at the moon. According to police reports, Ron was bitten by his roommate's dog, but thought the sharp pain was something else.
Apparently, Ron's #2 Brad asked the repeatedly failed presidential candidate to dogsit while Brad went to Key West over the weekend. While heavily intoxicated in his home (alone), Ron felt a sharp pain in his buttocks. Having forgotten that Snookums was in his room led to Ron thinking he had been shot by a firearm.
The event shook him so much that he called the Jersey City Police Department. The New Jersey Spew published the JCPD's report/opinion of the incident:
When asked to make a statement, Ron said "that damned mutt got spooked by thunder and took a piece out of my ass!"
This is not the first time the JCPD has been called to Ron's house for an odd occurrence. "Frankly, we're sick of these repeated shenanigans," said a police official who wished to remain anonymous.
Posted by Bittle at 11:14 AM
Violets are blue
Roses are red
We're doing this backwards
That's what she said!
Posted by Bittle at 11:46 AM
Happy Inauguration Day 2017 from the Ronatarian Party! Remember that you "the People" didn't vote for Ron and put an non-mustachioed spray-tanned buffoon in the White House.
Don't blame us!
Posted by Bittle at 07:54 AM
A fellow who drank to excess
Got to work in a state of undress:
Wore no shirt and no shoes,
Had a briefcase of booze
And, quite tipsy, said "Dress to impress."
(Madeleine Begun Kane) @madkane.com
Posted by Bittle at 08:48 AM
'Twas the night before Christmas, and God it was neat
The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat
The doors were all bolted, and the phone off the hook
It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook
Momma in her teddy, and I in the nude
Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube
When out on the lawn there arose such a cry
That I lost my boner and poor Momma went dry
Up to the window I sprang like an elf
Tore back the shade while she played with herself
The moon on the crest of the snowman we'd built
Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer
With a fat little driver, half out of his sled
A sock in his ear, and a bra on his head
Sure as I'm speaking, he was as high as a kite
And he yelled to his team, but it didn't sound right
Whoa Shithead, whoa Asshole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz
Either slow down this rig or I'll cut off your nuts
Look out for the lamp post, and don't hit the tree
Quit shaking the sleigh, 'cause I gotta go pee
They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub
Just as Santa leaned out and barfed on my shrub
And then from the roof we heard such a clatter
As each little reindeer now emptied its bladder
I was donning my jacket to cover my ass
When down the chimney Santa came with a crash
His suit was all smelly with perfume galore
He looked like a bum and he smelled like a whore
That was some brothel, he said with a smile
The reindeer are pooped, I'll just stay here awhile
He walked to the kitchen, himself poured a drink
Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink
I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee
The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee
Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack
But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed
The first thing he found was a pair of false tits
The next was a handgun with a penis that spits
A box filled with condoms was Santa's next find
And a sixpack of panties, the edible kind
A bra without nipples, a penis extension
And several other things that I shouldn't even mention
A cock ring, a G-string, and all types of oil
A dildo so long, it lay in a coil
This stuff ain't for kids, Mrs. Santa will shit
So I'll leave 'em here, and then I'll just split
He filled every stocking and then took his leave
With one tiny butt plug tucked under his sleeve
He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead
Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead
In time he was seated, took the reins of his hitch
Take me home Rudolph, this night's been a bitch!
The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout
The best thing about sex is that it never wears out!
Posted by Bittle at 02:45 PM
December 14, 2016:
A friend in Arizona told me of a custom car specialist who creates cartoonish dream vehicles for show and sale.
I asked what his name was. My friend said, "Ron... And he has this incredible mustache."
Well, I almost dropped the twin babies I was holding.
Was my so-called friend telling me Ron -- my Ron...the nation's Ron -- had moved out of New Jersey to [gasp] Arizona?!
This was improbable, but not impossible. No confirmed Ron sightings have been reported since early November.
Could Ron's mustache and penchant for restoring old cars, like his famed Camaro, have drawn him far from his fan and voting base? Who willingly moves to the American Southwest?!
I investigated and, to my delight, recognized the old fart in Arizona as Ron Berry. Berry is definitely a Ron wanna-be in all regards. I mean, Ron would never put a 2275 cc engine in a VW bus. That's ridiculous.
But, Ron would definitely put a mustache logo like the one Berry uses as his emblem on cars he builds.
So don't you believe that this Ron Berry guy is Ron. But trust in his love of cars and mustaches. He's more like Ron than you think.
Posted by Bittle at 02:25 PM