Brooke Jones's Blog

'Twas the night before Christmas & all through the manse
Donald Senior was farting and soiling his pants
So he parked his fat rump on his gold toilet seat,
his stained, baggy boxers adorning his feet.
"Melania" he barked, on his gold intercom
"come bring me my phone, I'm in my gold john"
"Bite me!" said she. "Do I look like a maid?
"Call one of your bimbos or some hooker you've laid!"

Then from somewhere close by came such a loud ruckus
that he fell off his throne, landing hard on his tuchus.
Grabbing his drawers, he went to the door
to find red-faced Don Junior out cold on the floor.
That's when Barron came shouting "That noise was a hoof!
It means Santa just landed his sleigh on our roof!"
And then Donald Junior, with a bra on his head,
crawled into the room and collapsed on the bed.

Suddenly they heard such a terrible BANG
that Junior said "Huh?" then passed out again
just as Eric marched in, his gun at his side,
"I shot an intruder!" he gloated with pride.
That's when Elon arrived with blood on his face.
"That fool did not shoot me , what he shot was this vase!"
His hand held one piece of shattered, red glass,
his eyebrows held two & there were three in his ass.

"I'm sorry!" cried Eric, dropping his gun on the floor,
where, of course, it went off, blowing a hole in the door
causing Elon to shriek "Why's that creep own a gun?
If he wants to play, you should give him a drum!"
"My son is a moron, let's leave it at that.
He's a low-IQ person with the brains of a gnat!
If you sue me you're FIRED!" Trump threatened Musk.
"I'll have you arrested & in jail by dusk!"

"You'll have me arrested?" Musk said with a smirk.
"You can't fire me, you dumb, bloated jerk!
Now you work for me, not the other way around,
in fact, I own you & your whole D.C. crowd!
And the rest of this country, you orange buffoon,
I share with Russia & China & that crowned Saudi loon!"

"You're a nut job, you're crazy!" Trump said in a shout
"My good pal Vlad Putin will straighten you out!"
"Your good pal Vlad Putin? You don't know a thing!
You're just his dumb puppet & he pulls your strings!"
At the mention of puppets Barron ran in the room
"Santa's bringing me a puppet & a baby raccoon!"
Attempting to stand, Junior said with a shrug
"I asked for a doll!", then his face hit the rug.

The sound of a horn was the next noise they heard
"Must be Santa's new ride" Don Junior slurred.
To the window they went, looked out & saw
Elon Musk's jet-pack sleigh spitting fire on the lawn.
"Trump, you love MAGA-LARDO, that's plain to see,
but Siberia awaits if you cross Vlad or me!
I'll write the laws & I'll make the decrees.
You'll follow my orders & you'll do as I please!"

Then they heard him proclaim, as he flew through the gate,
"Merry Christmas to me -- I'm KING ELON THE GREAT!"

-- Y.Not?! (aka Brooke Jones) 12.24.2024
WrittenByBrookeJones.com

’Twas the night before Christmas and all through the manse
Donald Senior was farting and spoiling his pants,
so he parked his fat rump on his gold toilet seat,
his stained, baggy boxers adorning his feet.
“Melania” he called, on his gold intercom,
“come bring me my phone, I’m in my gold john”.
“Bite me” said she, “do I look like your maid?
Call one of your bimbos, or some hooker you’ve laid!”.

Then, from somewhere close by came such a loud ruckus
that he fell off his throne, landing SPLAT on his tuchus.
Grabbing his drawers, he went to the door
to find red-faced Don Junior passed out on the floor.
That’s when Barron ran shouting “that noise was a hoof!
It means Santa just landed his sleigh on our roof!”
And then Donald Junior, with a bra on his head,
crawled into the room and collapsed on the bed.

Suddenly they heard such an ear-splitting BANG
that Junior said ‘Huh?”, then passed out again
just as Eric marched in, his gun at his side,
“I shot an intruder!” he gloated with pride.
That’s when Elon showed up, with blood on his face.
“That fool did NOT shoot me, what he shot was this vase!”
His hand held one piece of shattered, red glass.
His eyebrows held two. There were three in his ass.

“I’m sorry!” cried Eric, dropping his gun on the floor,
where, of course, it went off, blowing a hole in the door,
causing Elon to scream “Whys that nut own a gun?
If he wants to play you should give him a drum!”
“My son is a moron, let’s leave it at that.
He’s a low-IQ person with the brain of a gnat,
but if you sue me, you’re FIRED!” Trump threatened Musk.
“I’ll have you arrested and in prison by dusk!”

“You’ll have me arrested?” Musk said with a smirk.
“You can’t fire me, you fat, rancid jerk!
‘Cause you work for me, not the other way around,
in fact, I own you and that whole DC town!
And the rest of this country, you orange buffoon,
I share with Russia and China and that crowned Saudi loon!”

“You’re crazy. You’re wacko” Trump said in a shout.
“My good pal, Vlad Putin will straighten you out!”
“You’re good pal, Vlad Putin? don’t you know a thing?
You’re just a dumb puppet and Vlad holds your strings!”
At the mention of puppets Barron entered the room.
“Santa’s bringing me a puppet, and a baby racoon!”
Attempting to stand, Junior said with a shrug
“I asked for a doll”, then his face hit the rug.

The sound of a horn was the next thing they heard.
“That’s fer sure Santa’s ride” Don Junior slurred.
To the window they rushed and looked out to see
Elon Musk’s jet-pack sleigh, spitting fire and debris.
Elon hopped in the saddle and strapped himself in,
then looked to the window and said, with a grin:
“Trump, you love MAGA-LARDO, that’s easy to see,
but Siberia awaits if you cross Vlad or me!
I’ll write the laws, I’ll make the decrees,
and you’ll follow my orders and you’ll do as I please!”
Then they heard Musk proclaim, as he flew through the gate,
“Merry Christmas to me – I’m King Elon the Great!”

Y. Not?!/aka Brooke Jones, 12/24/2024 WrittenByBrookeJones.com

PREMATURE EMASCULATION: Actions taken by individuals & corporations in the rush to capitulate to a dictator who is currently a mere “wanna-be dictator”.

EXAMPLE: Il Douchebag was LEGALLY branded a RAPIST by the JUDGE in the lawsuit writer E. Jean Carroll brought against him, but when ABC’s George Stephanopoulus had the nerve to say EXACTLY what the judge said, ABC was sued by tRump.

But wait, there’s more: ABC not only LOST that case, BUT was ordered to APOLOGIZE & to pay FIFTEEN MILLION DOLLARS to the “charity” of tRump’s choosing. Translation: Il Douchebag just received 15 million TAX FREE DOLLARS!

“we are sorry that one of our employees described you using the exact same word that the Judge used to describe you at the close of the RAPE trial that found you liable.”???

If this is “justice”, the meaning of the word “justice” is unknown to me.

[BTW, what is the name of the Judge who rendered the verdict in this lawsuit against ABC?]

Y. Not?! (aka Brooke Jones 12.15.2024)

For more, please visit my admittedly unusual website: WrittenByBrookeJones.com

In one of Il Douchebag’s most recent posts, he announced that “…any person or business investing $1 Billion dollars or more in the United States will receive fully expedited approvals including … environmental approvals”.

Is he saying that China — who currently owns an astronomical percentage of this country’s corporations & real estate — is cordially invited to purchase the rest of America, without any pesky, burdensome issues like Environmental restrictions? Or perhaps China can split what they don’t already own with Saudi Arabia, who just happens to own a boat load of America, for instance, the largest (or is it the 2nd largest?) PORT in this country?)…AND, by the way, precisely WHERE (i.e., into WHO’s pocket) will that One BILLION DOLLARS go? (lemme see … um, gee … Who Could It Be Now?)

At least we need not worry about losing America in an armed conflict. Oh no indeed — no need for bombs or bullets — when China and Saudi Arabia, et al, decide that the time has come to add the USA to their portfolios, all they have to do is call in the loans they’re now holding; exercise the options they’re sitting on and start razing the thousands of houses, hotels and office buildings they have acquired. Buy, buy, Yosemite .. Mississippi River … Empire State Building … Bye bye, America.

Am I the only person who’s giving serious consideration to buying stock in the company that makes KY Jelly?

Y. Not?! (Brooke Jones) 12/12/2024

For more, please take a stroll (or a scroll) through my admittedly unusual website: WrittenByBrookeJones.com

A portion of all proceeds from sales of my book (“Why Are There Monkeys?”), my greeting card company (CardBard Greetings) et al, is donated to the BREAST CANCER RESEARCH FOUNDATION.

Staying Safe In The New AmeriKKKa

I keep thinking that this is all some sort of waking dream, meant to teach me something but from which I will soon awaken. Then I hear the voices in my head of millions of German men, women and children, SCREAMING “That’s what WE thought and look what happened to US!”. 

If you have come to believe, as I now do, that history is repeating itself, there are things you should do – things that, if not done, you will wish with every fiber of your being, that you had done. Donald Trump is a pathological liar, but when he says (as he has said repeatedly) that he plans to dismantle Social Security, MediCare and other “Safety Net” provisions, believe him because he intends to do exactly that!

 If you’re an American citizen who doesn’t currently have a valid U.S. Passport, begin the process of getting one, now!  (If you have a valid Passport that is soon to expire, begin the renewal process now.)If you don’t already have the required documentation that allows you to board an airplane, get that documentation nowIf you’re age or illness eligible for Social Security Benefits; Social Security Disability Benefits and/or MediCare or Welfare, apply now (not next week, now!)If you currently have MediCare Health coverage, contact your Primary Care Physician and schedule an appointment as soon as possible to discuss any health issues you’re facing or health concerns you may have and schedule any medical tests you might need in the near futureIf you need Food Stamps; Unemployment Insurance; Disability Insurance, or you soon will, apply for those benefits nowIf you’re renting a home or apartment on a month-to-month basis or with only a verbal “agreement” with your landlord, get a Lease! Do what you can to legally lock yourself into your home and make it legally difficult for your landlord to suddenly say “your rent is now twice what it was yesterday, and your pets will have to go!”.  Protect yourself (and your pets)If you’re a woman under the age of 50 and you live in a “Red State”, know that you currently reside in a Zip Code that can kill you. Please relocate as soon as possible. (if relocating is not an option, please immediately procure all the contraceptive assistance and Plan B medication you can get and if you have a record of your menstruation cycle, immediately discard, delete or destroy it and tell your Health Care Provider that you want that information deleted from your personal health care records because, in this new AmeriKKKa, that information WILL be used against you!)If you’re a member of the LGBTQ family, no matter where in this AmeriKKKa you live, “Public Displays of Affection” are now hazardous to your health. Loving who you love will be much safer if you don’t announce it to the worldT’Shirts, SweatShirts or other articles of clothing that announce your divergent nature can now get you killed. Keep your private life private — don’t help them hurt you! If you have Bumper Stickers on your vehicle(s), or signs in your Yard that proudly proclaim your opposition to our new reality, remove them now!

Paranoia is defined as “unjustifiable fear”.  In the new AmeriKKKa, if you’re female; disabled; any color other than White; any belief other than Christian; any nationality other than American, any age over 50, and any orientation other than heterosexual, there is no such thing as “unjustifiable fear”. Showing your truth to just anybody could get you killed.  Not believing that could also get you killed. This is not our grandmother’s America. Hell, this isn’t even our America! Be careful what you say, what you do, where and with whom you do it.  The pendulum will swing back – but it won’t happen tomorrow. Until it does, stay safe.

Y.Not? (WrittenByBrookeJones.com) 11.9.2024

A hood covered his bowed and bearded face. If he were to stand erect, he would have been more than six feet tall, but he could not stand erect. The remains of his long and difficult life appeared to be contained in the torn and tattered knapsack strapped to his hunched back, and the two overstuffed WalMart bags held in his swollen, weathered hands.

Leaning on one crutch, he stood, precariously, in the center of the train station. I watched as he inhaled deeply, an effort, or so it seemed, to gather what little strength he could and then, one half-step at a time, he made his way to the man behind the plexiglass window. 

I couldn’t hear a word that passed between them, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of him and, as I watched, a movie began to play in my head – an old movie of a ten-year-old boy playing baseball on a golden summer day, many, many summers ago. I saw him swing his bat, connecting with a blistering fast ball and sending it deep into center field.  His teammates cheered as he rounded the bases with ease, smiling from ear-to-ear. As he crossed home plate, he looked up into the bleachers, searching for that one special face that would shine will paternal pride.  Before he found it (did he ever find it?), the conversation at the plexiglass window ended and the broken man who had once been a ten-year-old, baseball-loving boy, began a slow, half-step at a time trek across the train station waiting room.

The man behind the plexiglass held up three fingers as I approached him. “That’s the third time today that he’s been here” he said. “What does he want?” I asked. “Each time it was the same thing – did I know of a restaurant where he could get something to eat. Some woman found him wandering around WalMart and brought him here. She said she thought I could do something for him. I don’t know what she thought I could do, I mean, I’m just the Amtrak ticket guy. I’m here all alone so what did she think I could do?” He didn’t know, but I think he wished that he did.

I bought my train ticket, and, as I turned toward the middle of the room, I saw another man standing beside the first.  Younger and slightly less broken, though obviously on the same painful path as the first, and there they stood, side-by-side, silent in their brokenness. Without conscious thought or premeditation, I opened my wallet, and when I did, I was overwhelmed by an energy that seemed to be coming from the cash within. It pulsed – it felt alive – and I swear I heard it say “I don’t belong here”.  I’m not sure that was what those bills were actually saying, but I do know that the minute I saw them I knew I wasn’t meant to keep them.

I pulled out three twenty-dollar bills and approached the two men.  Holding the money at waist-height in front of the knapsacked man, I interrupted his staring contest with the floor, but he didn’t seem to notice.  The second man gently touched his shoulder and said “She’s trying to give you some money, man!”. Slowly, one inch at a time, a hand more swollen and bruised than any I had ever seen – the skin and nails blackened with the accumulated filth of countless dumpster dives – reached up and cautiously, tenuously, accepted what was being offered. “Get something to eat and a room to sleep in, please” I said, softly. In a voice broken by time and tragedy he asked “How much is it?”, as he folded the three bills once, twice, three times, then stuffed the perfectly folded square of cash into a pocket of his worn-out pants.

“It’s three twenty-dollar bills – sixty dollars” I answered. His head seemed to bob once, or twice, (a response to my answer, or an affliction? I haven’t a clue), and with his eyes never leaving the floor, he hobbled, one half-step at a time, toward the door. “What’s your name?” the second man asked. “That doesn’t matter” I said.

As I stood, rooted to the floor of that train station, watching those two broken men make their painful way out of the building, I felt something I cannot name. I may never know its name, but that too doesn’t matter.  The only thing of which I was certain, in that ironic moment, in that train station, was that I hadn’t given that man something that belonged to me – I had given him something that probably would have been his some yesterday ago, before his life went so tragically off the…tracks.

—Y.Not?! (aka Brooke Jones)

WrittenByBrookeJones.com