Public caging. It's happening. Not just prison. This an open air cage. In a public space. So that we may view you and your ways. A shaming for you and a lesson for us. A lesson on how you operate. How you go about things. We need to witness the derangement up close. You'll put your guard down after a few hours. You'll forget we're even watching. We'll get to see all your bigotry. All your sorcery. All your schemes.
And each night we hose you down. Wash out the smell. Disturb your bedding.
I pick the Prisoners. All my political enemies. We start with the Chamber of Commerce. Not the Chairman, not yet. First we get the mascot, Lucky the Cash Register. 17 days in the cage. Whammo!
And after that, select members of the Coast Guard.

A terrible epidemic of men dressing up ovens, refrigerators and other large appliances with wigs and make up and little dresses and proposing marriage and actually wedding these goddamn things has swept across our counties. You can't believe it. And the churches support it! “It keeps them busy,” the churches say, “at least they're not out there killing people, praise God.” This sort of thing got started in Japan and don't tell me it didn't. These men haul these water heaters and basement freezers over here during a party and actually introduce them by name. “This here's Felicia. She's my beloved. Oh we how we love each other, we love each other so. I will be spending my life with this Kenmore double-storage freezer unit dressed up like...

“This game can also be played on a hopscotch court.”
I found the above printed on the last page of 480 page polemic arguing the benefits of boiling hot dogs over grilling them.

Lots of people out these past few weeks, taking photographs of the driveway ice. Who is going to look at all those photos? Doubly infuriating is all the time they're taking away from photographing individual hairs of their sleeping relatives.
Once again, the real victim is the Library of Congress.

Americans spent another New Year's Day staring into the abyss. But the real work begins next week. That's when federal funds get released and civil improvement corps start the long, hard work of designing, sewing and mass producing little suits – including vests, pants and top hats – for our nation's frogs. At least 40 unique styles are required according to the act. And if people don't start digging the frogs up out of their winter muck hibernation holes by late March and begin the initial round of fittings, the remaining money gets sucked back into the Air Force budget. No exceptions. Come July another round of dollars comes through earmarked for the careful painting of neighborhood garden stones to resemble oversized jelly beans, M&Ms candies, cough...

The only prediction for the coming year I can offer with 100% certainty is that those sweatshirts with the pouch-like double pocket compartment on the front will once again dominate American fashion.