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The Week’s Most Handy, Sandy, and Ramadandy Headlines

WE ARE THE CHURLED
The devastating L.A. fires that raged from Malibu to the Hollywood Hills affected hundreds of the entertainment industry’s greatest talents, the creative minds that gave you Madame Web, Snow White and the Seven HR Grievances, and of course the Sound of Music remake starring the cast of Moonlight as the von Trapphouse family.

The fires have cast a pall over this year’s Oscars. Voting was extended to give displaced Academy members time to differentiate Cynthia Erivo from the Alien: Romulus monster, and most Oscar parties have been canceled.

So of course Hollywood A-listers are doing what they do best: recording a benefit song…for themselves.

Do They Know It’s Oscar Time?

It’s Oscar time, there’s no need to be afraid.
At Oscar time, we yell and scream at our Latina maid.
And on this night of ego,
Our acceptance speeches denounce Trump.
Throw on your best designer dress,
At Oscar time.

But say a prayer, pray for the elite few,
Our mansions proved, so well, that we’re better’n you.
But now a fire’s wrecked the value,
Of our land in Tinseltown.
Our property values are like Kamala,
They just keep on going down.
Our open-borders advocating,
Would give America a browner hue.
But tonight we’re dispossessed, instead of you!

And there won’t be golden statuettes this Oscar night,
No cocaine snorting in the bathroom stall.
Our swag bags burned to ash,
With our MDMA stash.
Do we know it’s Oscar time at all?

Donations will be split between the Hollywood fire rebuilding fund and the Antifa fire restarting fund.

SCREAMING YOURSELF HORSE
There’s an old saying, “You can pick your friends and you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose.”

Well, if you’re Florida Man Donald Calloway and your best friend’s a horse, that rule does not apply.

Following the widely mocked footage of Trump recoiling in horror as Elon Musk’s son picked his nose in the Oval Office, Calloway said, “Hold my boogers.”

After being called by an understandably flummoxed witness, cops in Lake Wales, Fla., found Calloway in a field, naked and attempting to insert his penis into a horse’s nostril.

Nasophilia is the clinical word for nose fetish. Thanks to Calloway, there’s now a fetish called neighsophilia.

Suffice to say the horse was confused; normally the carrot gets inserted into its mouth.

According to the police report, the 53-year-old Calloway, who, based on his photo, should be called “Sicko Mortensen,” told cops, “It was a dumb decision,” adding, “I haven’t had any sex in probably two months…maybe it was just a sexually frustrated moment.”

Glad he added that “maybe”; it leaves open the possibility that perhaps there was a “better” reason.

Upon hearing that Calloway was only two months sex-deprived, incels across the nation walked just a little taller, proud of the fact that, though far more deprived, they haven’t sunk that low.

“I may masturbate to the Where’s the Beef lady after using AI to make her look like an anime schoolgirl with tentacles, but at least I’m not a freak like Calloway,” one incel told the AP.

According to TMZ, Calloway was booked on one count of sexual contact with animals and one count of robbing officers of their appetite. Speaking from a coin-operated mall airplane ride that he’d mistaken for his flight back to Delaware, Biden expressed regret that he couldn’t put Calloway in charge of the nation’s nuclear energy policy. Or at least the Camp David stables.

PEER-BATTERED WOMEN
Last week the city of Worcester, Mass., declared itself a “sanctuary city” for trannies.

From now on, trannies can come to Worcester and do whatever they want with no consequences.

So, just like every other city in the U.S.

Funny enough, the same week that Worcester gave sanctuary to fake women, trannies in Canada were invading the sanctuary of real women.

To properly understand the Canadian mindset, one must understand the nation’s defining TV show of the 1970s. CBC execs wanted to copy the gritty, cutting-edge sitcoms of the U.S. at the time. And the CBC brain trust decided that it needed a Canadian All in the Family.

CBC McCEO Gordon McThompson: “Oh, eh, we need somethin’ hard-edged and current, like them Norman Lear shows.”

CBC McCFO Gordy McKenzie: “Yeah, like tacklin’ racial matters. But we don’t want any racism, eh?”

CBC McCOO Marilyn McCoo: “We gotta be nice. Hard-edged but nice, and nothin’ hard-edged.”

The result was King of Kensington, about Larry King, a blue-collar white who loves all the races and the gays. Literally, that’s the premise. Each episode saw Larry bonding with African immigrants and cross-dressing paper boys. This was Canada’s Archie Bunker. The opening credits show Larry walking through Kensington as minorities call his name and say, “We love you!”

It was Canada’s top show of the 1970s, repeated endlessly in syndication. And that’s how we got the mess of cowardly weaklings up north.

It’s also how we got the still-unfolding “Mika Katz” scandal. Katz is a tranny who looks like Jeremy Piven with hair plugs. And he’d been “identifying as a woman” to gain access to Edmonton women’s shelters so he could rape the women (you know, that “right-wing myth” that supposedly never happens but always does).

After the first two rapes, Katz was released “on conditions.” The judge literally said, “Now, don’t you go rapin’ in any more shelters, eh?” And of course Katz went raping in more shelters. His victim count is up to four that authorities know of; they think it’s higher.

The “Kink of Kensington” is awaiting trial.

One day Canada will learn that real women don’t have “hosers.”

POP GOES THE MEASLE
“Prism Reports” describes itself as “a journalistic community of people of color truth tellers.”

“People of color truth tellers.” That’s when the black guy introduces himself, tips his cap, says, “Yes, I am going to rob then shoot you,” and, as he’s leaving, adds, “And I feel no remorse. Good day to you, sir.”

Last week Prism reported that Doctors Without Borders (aka “Doctors With Gardeners”) is dealing with a plague of psychological depression among “migrants” trapped on the Mexican side of the border by Trump’s reinstated “Remain in Mexico” program.

Yes, beans are suffering severe depression from being trapped among beans. Wonder if any “truth teller” will explain why, if being immersed in beans causes clinical depression, the U.S. should be expected to take in more beans.

BTW, the technical term for a depressed Mexican is a “somberero.” The technical term for the depression he’s suffering is “Juannui.”

As Doctors With Fentanyl dispatches 105 psychiatrists to the border (ciento-cinco shrinkos) to treat the moody Mexis (gauchos on couchos), the U.S. press is doing its part to mitigate the Hispanic-attacks by blaming the current Texas measles outbreak not on immigrants (which is where it actually came from) but rather on unvaccinated white Mennonites!

For those of you who don’t know, the Mennonite sect was named for a dude named “Menno Stevens.” Good thing the dude wasn’t named Cosmo, or Texas would be crawling with Cosmonites. Mennonites love Baháʼís because their god is named Báb (pronounced “Bob”). Having a god named Bob is the only thing dumber than having a sect named Menno.

The Mennonites are denying that the measles outbreak started with them, although to be fair many sect members have recently transitioned from healthy to ill. But remember, it’s phobic to attack transmennonites, so perhaps it’s best to keep the blame focused on the Mexicans, whose depression might actually be psychosomatic.

After all, as Freud reputedly said, sometimes a sí-gar is just a sí-gar.

CALL ME IMA’AM!
With Jews and Muslims at each other’s throats daily in the Middle East, maybe it’s time to remind members of both groups that they’re brothers…not in DNA, but in astounding bouts of stupidity.

As evidenced by two separate episodes last week.

First, the Muslim. Muhsin Hendricks decided to become the first-ever openly gay imam. Known as the “minaret mincer,” Hendricks is very pro-LGBTQuran.

You know your imam’s not holy when his name is literally “muh sin.”

“Ghayb” is an Arabic word that means “unseen.” Whereas “ghayboy” is something that cannot be unseen. “Jizya” is a tax non-Muslims pay in Muslim lands. “Jizz-ya” is what happens if a handsome young male goes to Hendricks for counseling.

So having decided to come “out” in a religion that forbids homosexuality and a populace that’ll kill you over a doodle, where did Hendricks decide to set up shop? South Africa…a country with so many murders each day, nobody even tries to solve them. And when Hendricks was, of course, shot dead in his car last week, authorities had no way of determining if it was a targeted political assassination or just blacks practicing the national pastime.

Hopefully in his final moments Hendricks’ faith gave him comfort. Don’t kafir the Reaper.

Now to the Jew…

Last week 27-year-old Florida mensch Mordechai Brafman saw what he thought was a car full of Palestinians driving through Miami’s upscale Kvetch District. Outraged, Brafman, who was carrying a handgun (no waiter’s gonna bring him dry brisket), opened fire at the car.

Turns out the car was full of Israeli Jewish tourists.

At the police station, Brafman told detectives, “I don’t understand how I could’ve made that mistake. They had their window down; I could see and hear them. They were loud, abrasive, hairy, and generally unpleasant-looking. What else could they be but Palies?”

He then glanced at his reflection in the interrogation room mirror.

“Oh my God…”