The Ghost of Buddy Holly and the Iowa Caucus: You Won't Believe who he Endorses!

It was a snowy night on February 3, 1959, when a small plane piloted by Roger Peterson and carrying music legends Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and J. P. "The Big Bopper" Richardson went down in a cornfield near Clear Lake, Iowa. This coming Wednesday will be the 57th anniversary of "The Day the Music Died".

But that was not the end of their story...

The short and muddled story you are about to skim (or ignore completely before quickly exiting blog) is fiction. A complete fig newton of my machinations and any consumed time dedicated to said drivel is precious time you will never get back. Plus, it has a couple scary parts. You have been warned.

Chapter 1 (relax, it's the only chapter)
It was 10 minutes to midnight when my headlights lit up the large geek glasses at the corner of 315th Street and Gull Avenue in Clear Lake, Iowa. I had finally arrived at the famous Buddy Holly plane Crash Site. Buddy Holly has always been one of my favorite musicians and I wasn't going to pass this way without paying my respects at his final resting place.

The roadside parking spots were empty, given the late hour. I had planned on arriving earlier in the day, but had stopped at a Cruz campaign rally on the way and time just got away from me. The presidential election season officially kicks off on Monday, February 1st, when a few hundred thousand Iowa residents will get the caucus party started. Everything rides on this next election, and I wanted to be here at the start.

I walked down a path leading to the actual crash site, my flashlight illuminating the markers for the four who died in the plane crash there. I shivered from the cold and from the realization of where I was standing. It was here on this very spot and on the edge of this very corn field on February 3, 1959, where and when the music died.

My reverie was broken, and my mood instantly shot from melancholy to terror as a bloated figure unexpectedly appeared from out of the shadows not more than 12 feet in front of me.

The ghoul had a shock of disheveled hair and a lined face with crazy eyes that darted behind black, thick-framed eyeglasses. When he smiled, his  teeth looked like two rows of over-sized tombstones too large for their cemetery. I turned to flee but stumbled and fell, releasing a blood-curdling scream!

"Well, I wasn't expecting you all neither," the apparition stated.

Something about this apparent ghost was strangely familiar and disarming.

"D- d d- do I know you,?" I stuttered, still trying to catch my breath and quiet my racing heart.

"You should. You came to my crash site, after all. Charles Hardin Holley at your service. I am the one and only Buddy Holly in the flesh... well, not exactly in the flesh. I am now a ghost, and I have been tasked with telling visitors here to vote for Donald J Trump this Monday in the Iowa caucus. He will make this country great again, or something."

My mood instantly shot back up to full-throttled horror, and I inadvertently screamed again, this time at the prospect of a president Trump.

The large specter bent down and passed me a 40-ounce malted brew from his brown bag. Against my better judgment, I chugged the rest and was once again sufficiently calm.

"Buddy, what am I supposed to tell the Trump critics who say that Donald is not a conservative, has held progressive views all his life, has been backpedaling on immigration and JUST THIS PAST WEEK bragged about what a great relationship he has with Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid and Chuck Schumer?"

The spirit just looked at me for a moment. Then he grinned, flashing his tombstones and said, "Tell them 'Boola, Boola."

It was at that moment when my suspicion was confirmed and I knew what had been bothering from the start of this encounter, and why this "ghost" seemed so familiar. 'Boola, Boola' was a memorable line from one of my favorite movies, The Buddy Holly Story, and as far as I know, Buddy never actually said this. If I was right, I wasn't talking to the ghost of Buddy Holly. In fact, I wasn't even talking with a ghost!

I then quickly reached up and removed the iconic glasses from the startled figure and exposing his true identity.

"Just as I figured! It's the actor Gary Busey! Just what are you doing out here in this cornfield?"

Busey's shoulders slouched, as he knew the gig was up. "Mr. Trump is paying me a salary to stand out here and stump for him. He liked the job I did playing Buddy in the movie so he figured I might persuade a few Iowans in my Buddy Holly persona," explained Busey. "I'd like to think he also liked my performance in Dancing with the Stars and my endorsement of him for president."

Just then, a light shined from the heavens, as 3 ethereal spirits descended to stand before us. IT WAS THE REAL GHOSTS OF BUDDY HOLLY, RICHIE VALENS AND THE BIG BOPPER!!!

"Buddy Holly supporting Donald Trump? That'll be the day when I die!," deadpanned Buddy.

"Then who do you support?" I asked.

"I'm from Lubbock, Texas, boy! Who do you think I support? Ted Cruz is the man! I predict he will Not Fade Away!"

The ghost of the Big Bopper stepped forward and bellowed, "Hello, baby! I'm from Texas too, and you know what I like! And that's Ted Cruz.

"La la la la la la bamba!"

Oh, hey Ritchie. How about you?

"well, I was born in California, not Texas like these other two. And there is no such thing as identity politics in heaven. But... My man Cruz is Hispanic and Trump is just an old, rich white guy," sang Ritchie.

It was at this point when Buddy whispered in my ear. "It Doesn't Matter Anymore."

With that, the three rock and roll apparitions ascended the vault of white light until they disappeared in the sky with a flash, and leaving Busey and me alone in that pitch black cornfield.

"Do you have any more hootch in a bag?," I asked Gary.

"Boola, Boola," he answered.

THE END

I support that guy on the far right over Trump

I did watch the GOP "undercard" debate last night, as well as the first half of the main event before nodding off. Disinterest can be exhausting.

That said, I did only dedicate about 15% of my attention span to the undercard showdown as it projected into my livingroom, launched from my smart TV. 

PICTURED: Rick Santorum, Mike Huckabee, Carly Fiorina and...

Seriously, who is this guy? I have no idea. He could be the janitor... or just someone who snuck in from backstage door that was left unlocked. I don't mean to disparage the gentleman, I literally have no clue who he is.

He may be a fine man and ex-county clerk or dog catcher from Tecumseh. I still don't. I would google search for the answer, but every time I try to focus on the topic of his identity, I suffer from an attack of narcolepsy. I'm sorry, what were we talking about? Oh yah, who is that guy on th... Zzzzzzz

Frankly, I would vote for this guy before I would waste a vote on Trump, this I can tell you.

Rachel Maddow's Flea Circus and Dog & Pony Show

MSNBC's Rachel Maddow brought her little flea circus, dog and pony sideshow to Flint, where she packed an elementary school gym full of an estimated 500 people - a number that more than doubles her regular monthly viewership.

I've never watched her show, but decided I'd tune in due to the local water issue topic. However, at 9PM on MSNBC, it was that white-haired mannequin-looking dude who wears skinny jeans and likes candles and he was hosting some progressive mind melt or another. After scanning the rest of my 300-some cable channels and not finding the Rachel show, I gave up.

I have one of them 'smart' TVs, so I'm guessing the TV took it upon itself to censor that Rachel show from my local listings. For that, I am deeply indebted to my smart TV for saving me from myself. Thanks, smart TV.

And save any feed-back claiming that Chris Hayes is not a beautiful woman. Beauty, after all, is in the stink-eye of the progressive beholder. What if Chrissy entered a room full of bull dykes at a feminist convention?

Does Trump Dream in Complete Sentences?

Donald Trump was tired. He had been stumping all day, and his campaign had just released his statement that he was not going to participate in the Thursday night FOX News debate. "They're not being fair!," he whined.  He lay in bed wearing his footie jammies and sending the day's last tweet about his greatness, and a few more "bimbo" Megyn Kelly insults. He fell asleep holding his phone... Zzzzzzzzzzzz

cue wavy lines for blog dream sequence...
Donald could see the headlines now!

Trump's Reykjavik Moment

 

Chattering Teeth News -- Donald Trump's showdown with Fox News is reminiscent of President Ronald "Maximus" Reagan's famous walk-out in Reykjavik on Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev at the 1986 summit nuclear treaty talks. Reagan's refusal then to bow to the Soviet's demands to discard the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI) resulted in a temporary breakdown in negotiations, but ultimately was a pivotal domino in the fall of the Soviet empire.

The 2016 version of the "Star Wars"Strategic Debate Initiative pits GOP presidential front-runner, Donald Trump, against Megyn Kelly, the lightweight Fox News host who has a sordid history of treating Mister Trump unfairly by asking him questions.

"Frankly, when the history books are written, my heroic battle against the Fox News empire will be much more significant a turning point for our nation than was Reagan's little hissy fit in Iceland," stated Trump. "In fact, Reagan was a nasty guy that everybody disliked. I would have gotten along with Gorbachev, this I will tell you."

Trump went on to say that, as author of a very huge book titled 'The Art of the Deal', he would have negotiated a deal with Gorbachev and gotten along with the Democrats better than Reagan did, as they  were angry at Reagan for walking out in Reykjavik.

"Frankly, I don't know if the Soviet union would have fallen under a Trump presidency in the 80's, but my ratings and poll numbers would have been much better than Reagan's because he was such a nasty guy. Hey, it's not me who is saying this... others are saying this about me. In fact, they call me the Reagan candidate, is what they call me. This, I will tell you, frankly. Yuuuge." boasted Trump.

*BUZZZZZ*

A newly arrived tweet awakens the slumbering Trump. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and slips into his bunnie slippers and reads his new tweet...

BREAKING!!!

Biden's Empty Podium will be filling in for Trump at the debate, and experts agree his stump speeches are much more coherent and could boost his campaign.

Hillary Coughs up a SandersBall at Iowa Event

Hillary suffers massive coughing fit at Iowa event

IT'S THE CORN!!! SHE HATES THIS CORN!!! 

We interrupt this blog post to bring you this very important message from our pseudo-sponsor:
Benghazi-DM, When you need relief now, but will have to wait for 13 hours. But at this point, what difference does it make? You've already coughed up a "Sanders ball".

In all seriousness... Hillary, please accept this glass of local Flint tap water. It will stop your cough.
Permanently.

Snyder Sends Emergency Water to Flint in Old Artillery Shells and Paint Cans

FLINT, MI -- Sensitive to the criticism he has received for his handling of the  Flint water crisis, Governor Snyder took bold action by sending an emergency supply of water to the thirsty city in old, discarded artillery shells and pre-1978 empty paint cans.

"I made sure those cans and shells were filled to the brim with pure Michigan high quality H2O, and had those babies lead soldered closed so they wouldn't leak," said Snyder to this Chattering Teeth Blog reporter. "Where are my critics now?"

Don't be like Sarah

And now, let's dance...

Obama gives Flint $80 Million - City Uses $ to Build Waterworld Theme Park

Obama gives $80 million to Michigan for Flint

Washington — President Barack Obama said Thursday his administration is giving $80 million in aid to Michigan mostly to help repair Flint’s water infrastructure and make the drinking water safe.

OBAMA: Speaking to a gathering of mayors at the White House, the president called the lead contamination of golf course irrigation water in Flint an “inexcusable” situation.

I'm paraphrasing, but it's what he meant.

$80 million, $80 million, $80 million, $80 million...

That figure keeps bouncing around in my lead-ladened cerebral cortex. Why does that amount seem so familiar? Of course, living in and around the City of Flint all my life, my brain is so sodden with poisonous lead deposits, my gray matter resembles a 10 lb. tip of a giant #2 pencil.

But I digest.

Ah! The year was 1984. And $80 million you say? THAT just happens to be the exact amount we spent demolishing a perfectly good I.M.A. Auditorium (where millions of folks enjoyed circuses, concerts, graduations, parties, etc, for many years) and in its place erected the Autoworld theme park, an over-sized geodesic green house, complete with a Ferris Wheel, an IMAX theater, and an overhead gigantic model of a car engine that I could stare in awe at for minutes.

The $80 million was well spent, as it entertained us Flintoids for 6 whole months before the park was mothballed and later demolished.

So now we are getting a windfall of free money (from the rest of the taxpayers across the country who don't HAVE gReat Lakes... suckers!) to fix our lead poison water problems. $80 million, to be exact.

Since Autoworld cost $80 million, and I don't believe in coincidences, I think we can all agree this must be a sign, and that the best use of the money is to resurrect the I.M.A. Auditorium and name it Waterworld.

Flint's Waterworld theme and water park would be mostly lead and coliform bacteria-free, and could be a veritable oasis and life-saving source of water (as long as Cher's semis of bottled water keep arriving at the loading docks).

Flint residents would stop by to pick up their Cher water or to do a monthly bathe in the Lazy River turd and tube float.

I can see it now...
When visitors first arrive, they will be greeted by a mannequin in the likeness of Michael Moore. A film will be projected onto the mannequin's face, and the visitor will hear in Michael Moore's own voice the wonders of socialism and reasons why Capitalism sucks and the Cuban health care system is to be emulated.

From there, the tourist can grab some free water and go, or they can stay and catch a wave at the giant wave pool and bar, where Flint residents can relax and enjoy a 40-ouncer from a brown paper bag pool side.

Hey, this could work! Maybe I don't suffer from lead-induced cognitive thought impairment thingys after all!

MORE COWBELL!

Sarah Palin Rescued from bottom of Tina Fey's backyard well

Well, it would explain this.

"I can see Trump Towers from my house!"

Sarah, you had me fooled. I had believed you to be a principled conservative.

It would be one thing to settle for Trump ("someone who's held progressive views all their life on the sanctity of life, on marriage, on partial-birth abortion...") over Hillary. But there is an actual true-believing conservative still in the race by the name of Ted Cruz, a man Trump has been attacking from the left. The latest Trump criticism of Ted is for his battle with the lying progressive establishment republican, Mitch McConnell.

And the really sad part of this for you, Sarah, is that your endorsement no longer holds any weight with the conservative base.

My Hometown

What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.

Except Flint.

Flint will kill you.

Water Blob Beast Spotted in Flint

 Today's photo creation above features an actual macro photo of a waterbear brought back to life after spending 30 years frozen. 

Researchers have successfully revived microscopic creatures that had been kept frozen for 30 years. Tardigrades, also known as waterbears or moss piglets, are tiny water-dwelling organisms. They're segmented, with eight legs, and measure 1mm in length...  When they're frozen, the creatures enter a state called cryptobiosis, in which their metabolic processes shut down, and they show no visible signs of life.

In the center of my photo is the 'unshopped' portion featuring Flint's native son, Michael Moore, also known as a WaterWhore or media piglet. He is large and disheveled, and rouses from hibernation whenever there is a microphone or camera in the area.

Moore was in town yesterday, just a few miles from the Chattering Teeth Bunker Day Spa and Bar. Apparently, Moore chummed the liberal polluted waters with shovels full of his clap trap crap, and even worked in a "George W Bush" slam or two. Man, those never get old! He also shared his letter to obama, pleading with him to come to Flint.

*lip quiver* IF ONLY he would grace us with his planet healing powers! *gasp*

As for the recently defrosted waterbear, he has been busy making a nuisance of himself moving from idiotic protest to protest.

Witty Comics

I call today's witty comic, #feelthebern

Nobody finds my humor funnier than I do (LOL!), so imagine my delight when discovering yet another outlet for me to express my hilarity to myself (LOL!)!

This is the third comic I've made using the witty comics website. I have no idea who runs it, but it looks like its been around awhile. (There is no 'embed', so I had to cut and paste the last panel underneath so it would fit the blog format her)

Registration is free, and the interface is straightforward. You only get 3 strip panels for your comic canvas masterpiece - and two characters per panel - so choose wisely. You may also scroll from an assortment of backgrounds.

Once you've selected your choice of characters and background, its time to put words in their mouth. Just select the speech bubble shape, type word thingys in the text space, and voila! Instant comedy!

Maybe. I've scrolled thru some of the comics in their archives... let me just say I believe they must be happy to finally have me.

Today's assignment for my blog friends - make a comic and share the link in the comments here. Just try not to be funnier than your blog host.

So in conclusion...

Iranian President Hassan Rouhani and his Cabin Boy, Barack Hussein Obama, go Fishing in the Persian Gulf

OBAMA: I couldn't watch that GOP debate last night and listen to all that mean, nasty and ugly stuff said about me. Instead, I went fishing with my BFF, President Rouhani. Now THEREs a guy who appreciates my accomplishments.

What are the odds?

OK, not really. This mathmagician must be on obama's economic team.

The Powerball lottery pot is now an estimated 1.5 Billion! That's now $5 bucks apiece if we all agree to split it. That's better than a kick in the teeth from watching another obama speech.

Better yet, if we just put it down on the National Debt of almost $19 Trillion, that would drop our per capita obligation from $58,255 to just $58,250! YAAAAAAA!

Feel better now!?

As for lottery odds, we are always told that you are more likely to be struck by lightning twice than win the lottery. Well, if there is a one in 292 million chance of winning the jackpot, that means those are better odds than picking the worst marxist America-hating piece of garbage from a pool of 300 million population to be the U.S. president (not counting Kenyan population).  TWICE! talk about a lightning striking for a second term.

I'm gonna need to grab a few more tickets!

As for obama's kick in the teeth...
While 10 U.S. Navy sailors were detained on Farsi Island in the Persian Gulf after allegedly drifting into Iranian waters, our president holds America hostage in Farce-y land after drifting into his last marxist SOTU.