A chat topic popped into my Substack today: “You’ll never guess what they found at Trump’s D.C. golf course…” Naturally, my mind started clicking right away. Oh, the possibilities.
What might they find, at that notorious golf course? So many opportunities abound! Here are just a few ideas:
A golf scorecard where every hole reads “TREMENDOUS” instead of a number.
Secret Service agents stationed next to the putting greens, ready to drop golf balls on command.
A package of “Prezzy Poo Diapies” stuffed in the 7th Hole.
All the eaten KFC buckets.
Who Shot J.R.?
(ok that one is pretty dated, I admit.)
All the people that he “Fired” back in Reality T.V. Land.
Stephen Miller’s Humanity!
A “bomb shelter” that’s actually just a rebuilt port-a-potty with a sign: “DO NOT ENTER – BIGLY GENIUS ONLY!!!”
A 19th hole that does not exist but shows up in classified satellite photos.
And my last one quotes the original article: “improper meat storage.” …Yep, that pretty much summarizes the entire Trump Administration’s problems right there. LOL
The reason we’re in Iran is ‘cause
A little kid bit his weenie,
A little kid bit his weenie,
A little kid bit his weenie.
This season we bomb Iran because
A little kid bit his weenie.
[Instrumental Break]
The reason we can’t buy gas is ‘cause
A little kid bit his weenie,
A little kid bit his weenie,
A little kid bit his weenie.
They’re squeezin’ the price of gas because
A little kid bit his weenie.
[Guitar Bridge]
The reason we bombed a school is ‘cause
A little kid bit his weenie,
A little kid bit his weenie,
A little kid bit his weenie.
The treason-in-charge hates kids because
A little kid bit his weenie.
(What a meanie!)
Iran – no weenies involved.
This is a parody. A joke. However, if it brought your attention to the insanity that is our modern society… good!
Pete Hegseth, Head of the Department of Blowin’ Up Stuff, recently told the Press Corps they were not permitted to take “unflattering” pictures of him.
Well, damn.
So. Let’s be straight: this image is completely not Pete Hegseth.
It is Huttseth, King of Misogynia, from the Galaxy Drünk’nfokkwitt.
Now this song is pure parody, about Walmart. It appeared on Substack in early March 2026. The lyrics are all about how that corporation messes up my grocery orders all the time. So I decided to say something about it. (Going back to the idea how you can either laugh or cry about a problem, right? I choose to laugh.) ~FloxMonster™, July 19, 2026
Every week, Walmart screws up my grocery orders. I’m housebound, so I can’t just go down there and fix it. But yes, every week, at least some of my stuff ends up in somebody else’s home.
What can I do? I tried talking to customer service. I tried talking to the store manager. They won’t fix it. And they won’t redeliver. They say I have to reorder the groceries and wait for a (usually very slow) refund. Well, that’s spending the same money twice, when dollars are already tight.
Nope, you know what? I’m done.
My response: here’s a ridiculous song to mock their utter incompetence. Now we can laugh about it.
Take that, Walmart!
Where’s My Cookies
“Where’s My Cookies” (The Walmart Grift Rhythm) by Wyvern Dryke
[Verse 1] Ordered snacks online, Now I'm feelin' kind of proud. Bought all my groceries, Now don't gotta face the crowds. The doorbell rings Like it's Christmas day. Open up the box …What the heck, it's hairspray??
[Pre-Chorus] Who’s out there Stealin' all my snacks? Feasting on my fare, Now I gotta face the facts. Walmart never Gets my order straight. Takes forever Ships the wrong damn freight.
[Chorus] Walmart, dude, Why you play me like that? I said "dinners" You sent "diapers" super-pack. Someone’s kid gets my pizza tonight And I’m stuck eatin' flippin' beans nobody likes. Walmart, dude, How you mess it this bad? Some other family got my groceries in their bag. I don’t need diapers They don’t need my treats Your effin' game Is so effin' weak!
[Verse 2] Receipt says “great.” Reality says “nope!” I got kitty litter, bro. No cat. Where's my soap? A stranger’s cookin' tacos With my lettuce and cheese. I’m scrolling through support Typing “help me, help me, please!"
[Pre-Chorus] Who’s sittin' back With my chill ice tea? Livin' on my snacks, Livin' up rent-free? It's a grift; pay the price, Cause you gotta get it done. You gotta buy it twice, Ask for a refund.
[Chorus] Walmart, dude, Why you play me like that? I said "dinners" You sent "diapers" super-pack Someone’s kid gets my pizza tonight And I’m stuck eatin' flippin' beans nobody likes. Walmart, dude, How you mess it this bad? Some other family got my groceries in their bag. I don’t need diapers They don’t need my treats Your effin' game Is so effin' weak!
[Bridge] Driver at my door like, “Sign right here.” I’m holding up a toothbrush And holding back tears. “Whose life is this? I just can't say! Where my chewy cookies? Did you give 'em away?"
[Chorus] Walmart, dude, Why you play me like that? I said "dinners" You sent "diapers" super-pack Someone’s kid gets my pizza tonight And I’m stuck eatin' flippin' beans nobody likes. Walmart, dude, How you mess it this bad? Some other family got my groceries in their bag. I don’t need diapers They don’t need my treats Your effin' game Is so effin' weak!
What the F, Walmart, Can I just please get What I clicked this week?
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