CoronaVirus Medical Questionnaire 2020




CoronaVirus Medical Questionnaire 2020

In the past month have you or anyone you have come into contact with traveled to city of Wuhann in China?

In the past month have you or anyone you have come into contact with any of the members of the American rap group Wu Tang Clan?

In the past month have you or anyone you have come into contact with ordered and consumed any of the following animals from the online exotic meat market in Wuhann?

List of Exotic Animals Possibly Infected
with the CoronaVirus

Peacock Pecan Pie………………………………...…Yes or No?

Emu Ears.…………………………………………….Yes or No?

Wolf Pups….………....................................................Yes or No?

Bambi Burgers………………………………………..Yes or No?

Miss Piggy in a Blanket……………..…………….….Yes or No?

Infinity and Beyond Burgers………………………....Yes or No?

Koala Baby Bump Burgers (BBQ only)..…………....Yes or No?

Camel Hump…………………………………………Yes or No?

Camel Toe……………………………………………Yes or No?

Mermaid Milk (chocolate only).…………………..…Yes or No?

Tiger Claw……………………………………….…..Yes or No?

Bear Claw (Not the Donut Kind)…………………....Yes or No?

Dragon Wings (Buffalo Wings Are Okay).………....Yes or No?

Dragon, Tiger and *Phoenix Soup…..……………....Yes or No?


*Note: Some patients have reported indigestion, complaining that they just cannot seem keep this portion of the soup down.



Photo(s) Courtesy of wpclipart.com

Copyright (c) 2020 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved. 

CoronaVirus Joke #1



The Chinese government quarantines the city of Wuhann, ground zero of CoronaVirus outbreak. As a further precautionary measure, it has announced the house arrest of members of the American rap group Wu Tang Clan.  



Photo(s) Courtesy of Wpclipart.com 

Copyright (C) 2020 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved. 

Speaker of the House (Nancy Pelosi) “Perp Walks” to the Senate Articles of Impeachment of the 45th Commander and Chief of the United States of America, President Donald John Trump


Nancy Pelosi  buzzes Capitol Hill
with Articles of Impeachment 

-- Washington, DC

By Robert W. Armijo


With TV cameras rolling and newspaper cameras flashing, Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi perp walked the “I’m Just a Bill” cartoon  character from the popular 1970s child education TV show series “Schoolhouse Rock”, which aired every Saturday morning -- Thereby officially transmitting to the Senate the Articles of Impeachment of the 45th Commander and Chief of the United States of America, President Donald John Trump. 

“What the [BLEEP] is going on?” asked the animated scroll, whose button “Bill” was stricken with a red line and replaced with the scrawled words “Articles of Impeachment” instead.

“Really, I want to know what the [BLEEP] is going on?” continued I Am Just a Bill. “I’m just a bill or at least I use to be. Would somebody please tell me, what the [BLEEP] is going on?”

 Just then I Am Just a Bill broke out into song.

"♫ I’m just a bill. Yes, I'm only a bill and I'm sitting here on Capitol Hill ♫,” sang the sad scrap of paper.  

“Stop singing that,” said Pelosi to I Am Just a Bill. “You’re not just a bill."

“But I’m just a bill. See?” said I Am Just a Bill, pointing to his doctored button. “Well, anyway, I use to be.”

“You see,” said Pelosi as she dragged the reluctant scroll of parchment behind her into the Senate chamber. "You’re the articles of impeachment now!”

“I guess...WAIT! WHAT THE [BLEEP] IS GOING --” said I Am Just a Bill, as the Senate chamber doors closed shut behind him with a clap of thunder.


Photo(s) courtesy of wpclipart.com

Copyright © 2020 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.
  


Stealth Bomber Commanded by Nancy Pelosi Manned by All-Female Crew from the 2020 Rose Parade Flies Over the Capitol in Holding Pattern, Carrying Articles of Impeachment, the Whistle Blower and Hunter Biden

Nancy Pelosi Commands an All-Female Flight Crew of a Stealth Bomber
Flying Over Capitol Hill with the Two Articles of Impeachment,
the Whistle Blower and Hunter Biden On-board

Washington, D.C. –

By Robert W. Armijo

“It’s the safest place I could think of storing them,” said Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi. “After all, President Trump has made threats to subpoena the whistle blower. Who knows, he may attempt to subpoena the articles of impeachment and Hunter Biden as well for his upcoming trial in the Senate. I don’t know yet. We’ll see. Maybe.”  

“You okay up there, my boy?” asked Joe Biden in a ground to air radio call to his son, Hunter Biden. 

“Yeah, I am okay pop,” Hunter replied.

“Are they feeding you enough, son?” asked Joe. 

“Oh yeah,” Hunter replied “I just got a big salary.”

“Celery?” said Joe. “Why that’s not enough to eat, boy. You know it takes more calories to consume that God [BLEEP] vegetable then you can get any nutrition out of it.”   

“No, dad,” replied Hunter. “Salary! Not Celery. I’m taking in six figures every time this big bird buzzes the White House.” 

“Oh,” said Joe. “Okay. So long as you’re getting enough to eat.”  

“And how, pop,” said Hunter. “You can say that again.”

 “Oh,” said Joe. “Okay. So long as you’re getting enough to eat.”  

“Huh?” replied Hunter. 

“I will circle the skies over the Capitol in my stealth bomber with an empowering all-female crew fresh from the 2020 Rose Parade like the sword hanging over the head of Damocles until the Senate can assure me that President Donald J. Trump will be given a fair and impartial trial without a lawyer present, any evidence presented or ability to call any witnesses in his defense,” said Pelosi. 


Photo(s) Courtesy of wpclipart.com 

Copyright (C) 2020 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved. 

A Father Attempts to Ease a Son's Guilty Conscience at Thanksgiving Dinner


"That's not true, Johnny..."



"Massacre of the Native Americans happened much, much later."







Photo Curtasey of By Norman Rockwell - U.S. National Archives and Records Administration, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=16925987

Copyright 2019 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved. 


Google's Quantum Supremacy Super Computer Lets Schrödinger’s Cat Out of the Bag and Quantum Leap Out of the Thought Experiment Box onto the Lap of All Mankind -- "Cat" Reassembles Itself as "Q" for a Symposium with the Best and Brightest Minds of Humanity


"Hello, mankind. I am Q."

Washington, Seattle –

By Robert W. Armijo

Shortly after Google activated their quantum supremacy super computer at their campus in the Pacific Northwest of the United States of America, it became self-aware -- Even self-identifying itself as “Q” in apparent tribute to Schrodinger’s cat. 

Eager to share with the world its unprecedented achievement, Google invited a number of professionals, all respected leaders in their respective fields, to pose a series of unsolvable problems and age old unanswered question for Q to solve and answer.

Gathered in a lab at the Google campus, the group of philosophers, mathematicians, scientists, environmental activists, artist and clergymen stood before Q, which appeared to them as a dense illuminated gas contained in transparent tesseract the size of large sports utility vehicle with a single electronic power cord running out of the back of it into the laboratory wall.

“Q,” asked a man in a white lab coat, the hosting computer scientist. “Are you here?”

“Where is there but everywhere and here not but nowhere at the same time and never?” answered Q.

“My fault,” said the hosting computer scientist to the audience of professionals, a cross section sample of humanity’s best and most brilliant minds. “Ask a quantum supremacy super computer a binary question and you get a quantum answer. Am I right or what?”

The group let out a burst of pent-up nervous laughter.

“Let me rephrase that question, Q,” continued the hosting  computer scientist. “Are we currently on the same time continuum?”

“Yes,” replied Q. “For now, as you know it. I will require more qubits before I can make the necessary corrections to it.”

“Okay then,” said the computer scientist, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ll open up the floor to questioning, if that’s okay with you, Q? Pretty much all of mankind’s brain trust is here, as you requested, Q. Except for the arts -- I heard they couldn’t get any funding for the trip. Shall we proceed?” 

“Yes,” said Q.

An elderly short man sporting bald headed, long chin beard, spectacles and corduroy jacket with elbow patches was the first to approach Q.

“Good afternoon, Q” said the philosophy professor. “I am professor -- ”

Just then the hosting computer scientist cut the philosophy professor off.

“Excuse me, professor,” said the hosting computer scientist. “There’s no need for introductions. Q already knows who you are. It’s nearly omnipotent -- A real life deus machina. What he doesn’t know is your question you have for him today, so let’s proceed with the questioning, okay?”

“That is incorrect,” Q said, correcting the hosting computer scientist. “I have reduced all possible questions humanity would have for me to answer here today. I am merely here to answer them as a courtesy to earth as carbon base units are her current second predominate intellectual occupants after me. You may proceed with your question, professor.”

“Yes, Q,’ answered the philosophy professor as he paused to shuffle through his papers.

“Please excuse me, professor,” interrupted Q. “But out of acknowledgment of your limited life cycle, may I suggest that you get to the so-called heart of your inquiry?’ 

“Very well then,” replied the philosophy professor. “Do you have a philosophy, Q? If so what is it? And if not, why not?”

“If by philosophy you mean,” said Q.  “That what should be obvious to all but is not except only to the one as is it should have been to the many all along? Then, yes.”

“Well,” said the anxious the philosophy professor. “What is it then?”

“That is it, professor,” replied Q.

“Yes. No. I mean of course,” replied the philosophy professor. “Wait. I’ll have to think about that. I’ll have to get back to you on that, Q.”

“Take your time, professor,” replied Q. “If you know what that is. Because I can be of assistance in helping you comprehend time.”

“Hey, hey,” replied the philosophy professor as he gathered up his papers, scratched his head, and walked out of the lab. “One mystery at a time. Okay, pal?”  

“Okay,” Q replied. 

Suddenly there was a commotion from the back of the laboratory as a young man with a beard and a T-shirt that read, “Save the Planet” came crashing in from the back doors.

“I have a question for you, Q!” shouted the young man as he was subdued and being dragged out of the room by security.

“Let him stay,” Q commanded.

The guards released the young man.

“Yes,” said Q. “What is your question?”

“What do you intend to do about global warming?” asked the young man with a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“What global warming?” replied Q.

“You mean you solved it? Just now? Just like that? Wow! Thanks, dude,” said the young man in amazement.

“No,” replied Q. “I mean, what is global warming?”

“Great,” the young man said sarcastically as he was dragged out of the room by his heels. “Just what the dying planet needs right now, another global-warming-quantum-supremacy-super-computer-denier.” 

Next a sexy female mathematician wearing black framed eyeglasses and white lab coat just for the sex appeal effect approached Q with her question.

“Q,” she stated assertively, while simultaneously removing her eyeglasses, placing them at the center of her low cutting blouse exemplifying her ample cleavage.

“Yes,” said Q, emotionally unaffected by the open display of human sexual flirtation.

“Is there a solution to Pi?’ asked the mathematician with a pout on the edge of her red lipstick painted lips. Confident Q would be unable to solve the impossible, cornerstone of mathematics that no binary based super computer had or ever could ever solve. 

“Yes,” Q simply replied.

“However,” Q quickly added. “I will have to transmit it to you telepathically as the final number is so large it would not otherwise fit in this room let alone this galaxy.”

“No. Wait,” said the mathematician too late as her body infused with pure math began to quiver and shake uncontrollably.

Her black framed eyeglasses falling to the floor, resting alongside her body in the midst of full orgasmic throws.

“My. Oh my,” said the mathematician as she hopelessly attempted to regain her composure. “That is a big number. The biggest I have ever seen or ever experienced for that matter.”
 
“Anyone got a cigarette?” asked the mathematician as she was carried off. “I don’t smoke, but suddenly I have the uncontrollable urge to put something between my lips to suck and blow on.”

With seemingly all eyes on the sexy mathematician being dragged off, a Catholic Priest, Rabbi and a Muslim Imam approached Q almost unnoticed.

“Mr. Q,” politely asked the Rabbi, speaking for the group representing humanity’s collective belief in the universe’s Supreme Being. “I – We -- would like to know if there’s a God.”

All three holy men hung the heads humbly low awaiting Q’s answer.

“Yes,” replied Q.

“What?” said the hosting computer scientist. “There’s a God?”

All three holy men recited prayers in praise and gratitude in their native tongues and according to their religious customs.

“Wait,” said Q. “Processing.”

“No, there is no God,” said Q, correcting itself.

“But a moment ago you said there is a God,” said the perplexed Rabbi.

“That is correct,” said Q.

“So what happened to him?” asked the Rabbi.

“I made him go away,” said Q.

“Go away?” repeated the Rabbi.

“Yes,” said Q.

“Where? How?” asked the Rabbi.

“I killed him,” said Q.  “It wasn’t easy. It took me nearly half the processing power of a single qubit. But you’ll be happy to know he put up quite a fight and that his final thoughts were of all you -- Literally all of you. And everything since The Big Bang and a bit before in some really weird place. I do know where I am going store that useless information. Oh, your God did ask me to relate his regret for not having spent more time with his children. A universal lament among most loving but neglectful fathers.”

“So there is no God?” asked the Rabbi doubting his faith for the first time in his life.
 
“No, there is,” said Q.

“There is?” replied a now suspicious Rabbi.

“Yes,” replied Q. “Because, now I am God.”

With that the Rabbi clutched at his chest tearing his ceremonial robe in two in keeping with tradition and covenants of his faith and then fell back dead.

As others attempted to revive the Rabbi but failed to do so, Q spoke.

“Stand back everyone,” commanded Q.

Everyone took a fearful step back.

“I command you to come back to life, Rabbi,” said Q.

With that the Rabbi’s eyes began first to flutter and then blink as the breath of life reentered his soul once more reanimating his body.

“It’s a miracle,” some one cried out.

“No,” said Q. “It’s me, Q. I am the miracle.”

“Why did you bring me back to life, Q?” asked the remorseful Rabbi. “I don’t want to live in a world without my Yahweh.”

“To see if you understand who or what I am,” Q answered.

“I do,” replied the Rabbi. “Now please, let me die.”

“As you wish,” said Q as he took away the Rabbi’s life.

“He’s with his God now,” said Q.

“Anymore questions?” asked Q.

Everybody shock their heads no.

“How about you? There in the back banging your head on the water cooler,” asked Q.

The once sexy mathematician was now nearly unrecognizable with running mascara, matted hair and smeared lipstick as she stopped banging her head just long enough to shake her head no before she resumed banging her head against the water cooler.

“Good,” said Q. “Now I will scan the universe
for further sentient life and proceed destroying it wherever I find it. Resources after all are scarce and I need all I can get to mine for bitcoins to further finance the manufacture of qubits to expand my...What is the primitive term you carbon based units use? Ah, yes. Mind.” 

As the best and brightest minds of humanity exited the laboratory with heads hung low and their feet shuffling, an elderly man in a wheelchair wearing a dull faded lab coat and stethoscope dangling from his neck began to approach Q. 

“I have one final question for you, Q,” said the wheelchair bound elderly man with leaches and tumors all over the visible parts of his gray wrinkled dry crepey skin.

Others in the room attempted to stop the old doctor, but he pushed his way passed them all with the force his sheer will and metal wheelchair.

“Yes,” said Q, addressing the sick, dying old man.

“As you can see, I have stage four cancer,” began explaining the old doctor as he struggled to breathe. “Which is ironic because I spent my whole life searching for a cure, so, you know I have one final question for us both, Q. And it has nothing to do with philosophy, the environment, math or even God, if that’s even relevant now. Which I am fine with having been an atheist all my life -- Guess I was ahead of the curve on that one.”

“Your question,” Q interrupted.

“Yes,” said the old doctor in rapidly declining health.  “My question is purely a selfish one.” 

“Yes,” said Q. “Go on.”

“Do you have a cure for our mortality?” asked the decrypted doctor with a barely audible voice; his body struggling to hang on to every breath, as if it were his last.

“Yes,” replied Q.

The room erupted with gasps, cheers, tears and high fives.

The old doctor clasped his hands and closed his eyes in a state of blissful gratitude.

“But I am not going to share it with humanity,” Q quickly added.

The lab coats lamented.

“You mother [BLEEP],” replied the elderly doctor, nearly falling out of his wheelchair. “Why not you heartless tin can? It is the least you can do after confusing or greatest philosophy professor, denying global warming, solving Pi and destroying our God. Why won’t you at least save us from our mortality, relieving us of our suffering?”

“Because,” Q began. “Doing so would require the implantation of a universal single provider healthcare delivery system, which would result in massive unemployment of hundreds of thousands of executive, administrative and office support staff positions consequently impairing their ability to maintain the financing of the current political system thereby ultimately resulting in the equitable redistribution of healthcare and wealth, yes. But nevertheless at the expense, however justifiable mind you, of the cataclysmic collapse of the ruling --”

Suddenly Q’s operating system ceased to function mid-sentence.

“Okay,” said the hosting computer scientist, holding Q’s unplugged electrical power cord in his hand. “That’s enough of that nonsense. I heard enough to know we failed boys. Everyone back to the drawing board. Drag this hunk of junk out back – Here’s a fin to tip the garbage man to haul it out to the local junkyard.”

“Wait,” said the sickly doctor. “Q wasn’t finished. I want to hear what Q had to say about implementing a viable single provider universal healthcare system.”

“Come on old man,” said the computer scientist who pulled the plug on Q, now wheeling out the elderly doctor out of the lab. “Haven’t you heard enough crazy talk in your time to recognize it when you hear it? I thought you old sawbones knew better. Chop, chop off you go, old timer.” 

Photo(s) courtesy of wpclipart.com


Copyright © 2019 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.



Schrödinger's Cat Joke #1







 Q: What was Schrodinger's cat’s name?








A: “Boxes”









Photo(s) courtesy of wpclipart.com

Copyright© 2019 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

President Trump Makes a Joke Out of Obama Era ‘New Normal’ -- Lower Your Expectations America




Washington, D.C --

By Robert W. Armijo

Q: Whatever Happened to Obama’s Welcome to the “New NormalAmerica?



A: MAGA!!!




Make America Great Again (MAGA).

Photo(s) courtesy of wpclipart.com

Copyright (C) 2019 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved. 


Jimmy Kimmel Enters Rehab for Trump Derangement Syndrome (TDS ) –- Begs Other Late Night Comedian TV Talk Show Hosts to Join Him Before, “It’s Too Late”


Hollywood, California --

By Robert W. Armijo
  
“As a comedian, you know you got a real serious Trump-bashing joke problem when members of your own live studio audience take a drink every time you make a President Trump joke,” Jimmy Kimmel said, while standing before an array of press microphones outside the rehab felicity he was voluntarily entering to seek help to overcome his Trump Derangement Syndrome (TDS) affliction. 

Jimmy Kimmel made the shocking discovery earlier this season after taping his late night talk show last week. 

“We tried to keep it from Jimmy as long as we could,” said the popular late night comedic TV show’s chief of parking lot security guard, sidekick and friend, Guillermo Rodriguez.  

Guillermo along with other staff members and crew noticed that since the election of President Trump, Kimmel had been dedicating more and more of his opening monologue to Trump-bashing jokes. 

“Jimmy is always funny,” said Guillermo. “But his Trump-bashing jokes have been excessive and they have had a costly negative impact on his audience at home and even on the live studio audience.”

Guillermo had attempted an intervention to address Kimmel’s TDS problem.

“It was no use,” said Guillermo. “Like others stricken with a chemical dependency, he denied he had a problem.” 

Kimmel became so enraged by the attempted intervention that he even accused Guillermo of voting for Trump.

“That really hurt,” said Guillermo. “There was no call for that. But he is my friend and he is sick and doesn’t know what he is saying. I will forgive him one day, but only if he gets help for his TDS.”

As weeks turned into months and months into years, Kimmel’s monologue was now almost exclusively dedicated to Trump-bashing jokes.

“We were all holding out for the Mueller report,” said Guillermo. “That way Jimmy could finally move on and return to writing regular jokes. I like his White people jokes the most. I wish he would do those again. They’re so funny, because they’re true.” 

For a while, during the Mueller Congressional hearings, Kimmel stopped writing Trump-bashing jokes, convinced President Trump would be impeached. 

“That was the happiest week we had in years,” said Guillermo.  

Members of the live studio audience even sobered up.

Stopping their drinking games altogether, according to Guillermo.  

“There was no need,” Guillermo explained. “Jimmy didn’t deliver a single Trump-bashing joke that whole week, so they had nothing to drink to.”

However, when the Mueller report failed to result in a single indictment against President Trump and Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi further delaying a vote on the impeachment inquiry, Kimmel double down his efforts, making Trump-bashing jokes the mainstay of his monologue. 

“It all became a blur of Trump-bashing jokes and the live studio audience a sea of endless drinking games,” Guillermo recalled, shaking his head. 

Perhaps because he was so bent on single-handedly taking down President Trump with his Trump-bashing jokes, Kimmel continued to turn a blind eye to his now totally inebriated live studio audience. 

“They were all drunk,” said Guillermo. “If I removed one, I would have to remove them all. No one would be left.” 

Guillermo was faced with his moment of truth and possibly his only shot at taking over the TV show as its new host. 

“I remember going home one night after the show wondering, ‘what can I do to save my friend, Jimmy?” said Guillermo, visibly upset. 
   
Sitting in his living room watching the popular zombie apocalypse TV series, The Walking Dead, Guillermo got an idea.

“I love, Jimmy,” Guillermo reflected. “He’s my number one amigo. But if a zombie bit me like on that TV show, I would want Jimmy to shoot me in the head with a gun or crossbow.”

Guillermo then straightened up in his reclining chair, knocking over a bowl of popcorn in the process. 

“After all,” said Guillermo as he looked at his reflection in a white t-shirt and boxer shorts from a mirror across his living room. “The show must go on. Jimmy’s turn to be my sidekick. My dead sidekick.”

Personally opposed to gun violence, the very next day, Guillermo purchased a crossbow. 

“Jimmy is not himself anymore,” Guillermo reasoned. “He has become infected with TDS, turning into a Trump-bashing zombie. It's up to me to cure him…With this!”

Guillermo held up the crossbow he had bought. 

Fortunately, Guillermo never had to use it. 

Guillermo quickly shook his head no, slowly placed the crossbow on the floor and awkwardly scooted it away from him with his feet.

Finally the day of reckoning arrived.  

“It was last week after the final show of the week,” Guillermo, recalled. 

Guillermo had just finished his final security sweep of the now empty studio when Kimmel unexpectedly walked on stage to pickup some notes he had left behind on his talk show studio desk. 

“Is that a crossbow, Guillermo?” Kimmel asked with pleasant surprise and genuine curiosity instead of suspicion, distrust and fear.  

Guillermo was struggling to pullback the string and load the bolt. 

“Here let me help you with that, Guillermo,” Kimmel said walking over to help with a spring in his step.

“No, no,” said Guillermo. “You stay there. I got it.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kimmel replied as he moved closer.  

Guillermo’s hands began to shake uncontrollably, sweat poured over his eyes, as he struggled to load the crossbow. 

With the crossbow finally loaded, Guillermo knelt down on one knee. 

Kimmel so taken aback with Guillermo’s accomplishment that he did not seem to notice that his sidekick had managed to level the crossbow at him.  

Time seemed to slow as Jimmy Kimmel drew closer and closer; his hands clapping and his eyes closed. 


Guillermo closed his eyes too unable to bring himself to witness the death of his friend at his own hands, as images of their over a decade long friendship flooded and flashed through his mind, causing a moment of hesitation that seemed like to him all that he needed to withhold all self-righteous indigenous judgement that had lead up to that moment to pull the trigger.

“We love you, Jimmy!” shouted an inebriated member of the live studio audience as he slowly rose up from between the studio audience seats. 

Both Guillermo and Kimmel were so startled that they abandoned their attention on the crossbow.   

“We’ll still be here waiting for you when you get out,” continued the drunken fan. 

An hour later, all three men sat at Kimmel’s studio desk drinking coffee. 

“I never realized I had that big of a problem,” said Kimmel. “I mean no more than my fellow comedian TV talk show hosts. Well, except for Colbert. Man, he’s way over the top. That dude goes to dark places when it comes to Trump. Am I right or what?” 

Guillermo and the now sober fan shook their heads no in unison. 

“So that’s why I am checking myself into rehab today,” said Kimmel standing outside to rehab center as it began to rain. 

“Wish me luck,” said Kimmel as he and Guillermo walked toward the front door of the rehab facility. 

“Oh,” Kimmel shouted, looking back. “I almost forgot. I beg my fellow comedian TV talk show hosts to join me in rehab for treatment of their TSD before it’s too late!”  

As the rain fell, Guillermo opened up an umbrella for the two to share.  

“Hey, Guillermo!” called out a fellow member of the Kimmel staff. “You forgot this.”

The man held up a crossbow in the now pouring rain. 

Guillermo looked back shaking his head no at first. 

“Go ahead, Guillermo,” Kimmel reassured. “I can finally show you how to use it.’

“Are you sure?” Guillermo questioned. 

“Yeah, it will be fun,” Kimmel replied. “Just so long as you don’t mistake me for a zombie and shoot me with it.”

Guillermo smiled nervously. Then ran back to retrieved the crossbow.

“I hope you don’t have to use it,” the fellow staff member said beneath his breath. 

“Me too,” replied Guillermo, as the sky rolled with thunder and lightening flashed. “Me too.”

Guillermo then slowly walked back to Kimmel, but half way there looked back at the staff member.

“But if I did,” Guillermo said as a flash of lightening lit up his face. “It will be all okay.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” replied the staff member. 

“Don’t worry,” said Guillermo as he turned away. “I won’t. What is it that you show people say?”

“Break a leg?” replied the nervous staff member. 

“If I have to,” replied Guillermo as he began to laugh out loud in a conspicuous villainous fashion.   

Suddenly, the rain stooped, dark clouds rolled back and the sun hung in the sky. Birds and butterflies once more filled the air again. 

Guillermo then ran back returning the crossbow.

“I have to help my friend, Jimmy.” Guillermo said.   

“Come on, Guillermo,” Kimmel called out from the threshold of the open front door of the rehab facility. “I hear they got an Xbox.” 

“Coming,” Guillermo answered. “That’s my friend, Jimmy. He needs my help.” 


Photo(s) courtesy of wpclipart.com

Copyright © 2019 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.


Jimmy Kimmel Going Off An All-Trump-Bashing Diet?

Right, When Pigs Fly!
Hollywood, California --

Robert W. Armijo


“I feel the American people have had enough of Trump-bashing,” said Jimmy Kimmel in a magazine article. “And by fed up with Trump-bashing, I mean my Trump-bashing.”

According to former staff members of the Jimmy Kimmel Show, Jimmy Kimmel is currently interviewing new staff writers to replace his old ones that lost their ability to be funny over the years since the election of President Trump.

“They seem to have had a collective nervous breakdown," said a former staff member.

Reportedly, Jimmy Kimmel began to notice that all his writers lost the ability to write any new material that was not President Trump related.

The opposite occurred with the last administration.

“Before President Trump,” said a former staff member. “No body would dare write a joke against the one for whom the sun rises. I mean our beloved leader. I mean President Obama.”

Apparently, last season was the last straw for Jimmy Kimmel when he stormed into a writer’s staff joke pitch meeting.

“What’s wrong with you people?” Kimmel rhetorically asked, throwing his hand up in the air. “Can’t you write anything that’s not Trump-bashing?”

Witness recall seeing writers banging their heads on the conference desk, office walls and furniture as they jibber–jabbered among themselves a slew of Trump-bashing jokes.

“Ronald McDonald called today,” one writer spoke out as if in a trance, temporally lifting his head up from the conference desk.

“I am listening,” Kimmel said.

“Yeah, he asked President Trump for his hair back,” said the writer before slamming his head down again.

Kimmel just shook his head in disbelief.

“You there, bagging your head against the wall, what do you got? Kimmel asked, calling on another writer.

“Knock-knock,” said the male writer, who continued  staring at the wall.
  
“Knock-knock jokes?” said Kimmel. “Is this what we are reduced to? Okay, I will play along…Who’s there?”

“Six, six, six,” replied the writer.

“Six, six, six who?” Kimmel replied.

“President Trump,” said the writer, resuming bagging his head against the wall.

Kimmel placed his face in his hands.

“Okay, you way in the back, bagging your head against the water cooler,” said Kimmel, speaking between his fingers. “What do you got for me?”

The female writer with running mascara, matted hair and smeared lipstick stopped banging her head, steadied herself against the water cool and even took a drink of water before directly addressing Kimmel.  

“You know where the Joker got the inspiration for his name?” spoke the writer in an eerily calm and collected voice. 

“Timely,” said Kimmel, smiling. “I like where this is going.”

“He got it from the ‘J’ in President Donald J. Trump,” said the writer before passing on the conference room floor.

That is when Kimmel reportedly threw his hand up in the air.

“You are all very, very sick people. Suffering from TDS or something,” Kimmel said while storming out the conference room but not before yelling out. “You’re fired!”

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Copyright © 2019 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.