Twas the night before a nuclear Christmas

 

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house
All the creatures were stirring, as nervous as a mouse,
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes new legislation soon would be there;
The cabinet were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of stock market records danced in their heads

And Melania in her ‘kerchief, and I in my MAGA cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave the luster of Trumpian objects below;
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a thread-thin conspiracy that wasn’t quite clear,
With a little old driver, very pale and straight as a ruler,
I knew in a moment it must be James Mueller,
More longer than necessary his investigation became,
And he whistled, and shouted, and started calling names,
“Now! Trump, now! Pence, now! Manafort and Kushner,
“On! Putin, on! Comey, on! Flynn and Junior;
“To the top of the porch! To the top of Trumps wall!
“I’ll take my time and investigate you all!
As white lies before the Clintons fly,
When I meet an obstacle the Dems will stomp and cry,
So up to the house-top the story-lines flew,
With the sleigh full of lies‍—‌and deceiving media, too:
And then in a twinkling, I heard from over there

A missile being fired and tested in the air,
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Kim Jong-Un came with a bound:
He was dress’d all in grey, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes looked tarnish’d with ashes and soot;
A bundle of missiles was flung on his back,
And he look’d like a psycho just opening his pack:
His eyes‍—‌they were black! No dimples: too fat,
His cheeks were filled out, his forehead so flat;
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
and they released some pictures of him walking in the snow;
The stump of a missile he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke encircled his country like a wreath.
He had a broad face, fairly obese not to trim
he executed members of his family on a whim:
He was chubby and plump, a right spiteful elf,
And I laugh’d when I saw him in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
His desire to fire missiles filled the Japanese with dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And kept testing his missiles; the world knew he was a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod, a mad man arose
He sprung to his launch codes, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle:
But the allies exclaimed, ere they drove him out of sight‍—‌

We’ve shot them all down, Merry Christmas, good night.

UF/UF 184: The UF/UF Christmas Yule-tide-tacular

Ready for some holiday cheer, good will toward men and all that jazz? Yeah neither are we. But we have some quality Christmas type like games mixed in with the garbage that is currently passing for politics and news in America.

Click the link and you’ll go from Holy to Jolly faster than a reindeer fart.

UF/UF 184: The UF/UF Christmas Yule-tide-tacular

http://unfilunfet.libsyn.com/ufuf-184-the-ufuf-christmas-yule-tide-tacular

 

UF/UF 183: Iceberg! Dead ahead!

The USS Sexual Harassment is about to strike the iceberg known as Fake Public Moral Outrage. There’s not much room left on the floating debris to save everybody. The Democrats are pitching people over the side as fast as possible. Republicans are standing on deck sipping extra dry martinis while the band plays on.

Who survives, who drowns, and who gets to be in the poorly produced sequel is anyone’s guess, but we have a few thoughts on the subject. But for that you gotta click.

UF/UF 183: Iceberg! Dead ahead!

http://unfilunfet.libsyn.com

 

 

M:requestsgettyimagesGS#42247141273424_10.jpg

They like it when I grab their boobs. Gosh darn it I know they like it.

UF/UF 182: We’re gonna need a bigger boat.

It was just that kind of week my friends. So much going on in every facet of society. Flynn is testifying, Congress is giving us a tax break on our private jets, Tennessee is showing the world how not to make a hire, and our favorite Kim is splodin nukes and causin quakes.

How do we keep it all straight. Well that’s the easy part.  Just click and we clear it all up. You’re welcome America.

UF/UF 182: We’re gonna need a bigger boat.

 

trump-y-flynn-con-tweet

No see, what had happe… Yeah but he… I mean Flynn said… Yes those were my tweets but…

http://unfilunfet.libsyn.com

 

UF/UF 181: Love, American Style

Well gang it’s week two of our transition to our new podcast carrier Libsyn. Click the link below and see our new page, listen to our latest episode, and enjoy that new car smell.

UF/UF 181: Love, American Style

Or you can still find us on iTunes the old fashioned way.

Enjoy.

Oh and enjoy the amazing twitter war between Trump and LaVar Ball. It is, in a word, fantabulous.

 

171120-toure-trump-tease_arx8j1

Oh yeah. That’s the stuff.

UF/UF 180 Franken-stine

Moore-Franken 2020! No? Well, at least it appears they have something in common. Creepy-ness.

No one is getting the Big Story when it comes to Donna Brazile’s  book and revelation. We do.

Oh, and you can’t miss our discussion of Miss Bumbum. C’mon, just that is worth the listen.

Here’s the new procedure. The link below will take you to our new content carrier and you can listen from there. Or, act like it’s 2017 and subscribe to us on iTunes.

http://unfilunfet.libsyn.com/ufuf-180-franken-stine

 

Miss Bumbum 2017. It’s better than looking at the creepy picture of Al Franken again.

UF/UF 179: Oh Donna!

Ok, just for clarity, we don’t really like Donna Brazile, but now we fear for her safety.

And according to some excerpts from her book, so does she.  Donna, when you throw dirt on the Clintons, girl, better strap up.

Hey, heads up Houston Texans, don’t be hot house flowers. Man up, fellas.

From the Nashville research department, who knew snails had memories? Or brains, even? Apparently memories can be erased, and you’re…..sorry, what was I saying?

But you gotta listen, ‘Merica. We don’t do it for the fame, we do it for the truth.

Now do us a favor and go to iTunes and subscribe to Unfiltered Unfettered. and tell your friends if you have any.

Also, you can now find us on Soundcloud, if that’s a preference. Go to Soundcloud and search Unfilteredunfettered

Doesn’t she look like she could’ve been your favorite Aunt?