Ammo Grrrll is locked and loaded with RANDOM QUESTIONS, THOUGHTS AND RESOLUTIONS. She writes:
First, the Questions:
These are not daring new questions that nobody has ever thought to ask before. It’s my last column of the year. And it’s also my last column in this year’s as yet untitled Ammo Grrrll column compilation book (#10). (Ammo Grrrll Aims For Center Mass? Too violent? Ammo Grrrll Puts Ten In the Head? Worse yet…Unlike the Secret Service, Ammo Grrrll Could Hit A Guy From 5 Feet With 6 Tries? Too harsh?) Suggestions welcomed.
Anyhoo, I thought I would just throw these questions out to The Universe and see who or what answers.
*How can you be “pardoned” for something if you don’t admit you did it? And if you DID it, where’s the apology or at least the admission that what you did was WRONG? Boy, that is NOTHING at ALL like the Jewish belief in pardoning and forgiveness where at minimum you have to REPENT, as in, be SORRY, and ASK forgiveness from those you’ve wronged. And, also, try to ATONE or make up for the wrong and misery you have caused.
Also, why would a pardon mean the end of the investigation and exposure of the crime? I would seriously like to know how Hunter got a gig as a “consultant” on Ukrainian energy for $83,000 a MONTH. And whether or not that position is still open. Asking for a friend.
*Why do ANY of the 51 losers who certified that the Hunter Biden Laptop from Hell was Russian disinformation still have jobs or pensions? I would like to see them emptying bedpans in dysentery wards or being squeegee guys at traffic lights in Manhattan.
*When will there be a complete forensic audit of BLM? When will there be a complete forensic audit of the GAZILLIONS sent to Ukraine? When will there be a complete forensic audit of where COVID monies went that were shoveled out the door with steam shovels to friends and family? Asking for a completely different friend: What kind of certification does one need – along with a bullet-proof vest and permit for an Uzi – to become a Forensic Auditor?
*My last vote for a Democrat was in November of 2000. That is a quarter of a century ago, roughly one-third of my life and slightly more than half of my voting life. I can’t help but notice that one lucrative gig on the networks is as a person who pretends to be a disillusioned member of the Republican Party. (See Jen Rubin, David French, Ana Navarro, etc…) I would like to know “How many election cycles where the Faux Republican votes Democrat need to pass before that person no longer qualifies as a Republican, not even Faux?”
What a suh-weet gig it would be to be a Now Never Democrat on The Five on Fox just bad-mouthing Democrats all the live-long day and getting paid for it…
*Where are all the woman-to-man transitioners who are competing in men’s sports? Are they stealing all the trophies from men and breaking all the records now? If not, why not? We all know there are NO significant differences between men and women, so what gives?
SOME LESSONS FOR POLITICS FROM STANDUP COMEDY
One thing a new comic usually thinks is that it is tough to “follow” a really good comic in a show. That is wrong. The really good comic has just “trained” the audience to laugh. The audience is in a great mood. If the next comic up has even a modicum of the usual competitive nature of a born comic, he will take that as his benchmark and try to top it.
On the other hand, if you follow a terrible act who either is just not funny or has done something to annoy the audience to outright hostility, that is what in comedy is called “digging out of a hole.” It can happen in a second.
In one show I headlined, our emcee, a real professional and dear friend, welcomed a large contingent from North Dakota State University in Fargo. The PR person at the particular club we were working was a lazy moron and had given the emcee that information. Unfortunately, the already-drunk “scholars” were from the University of North Dakota, in Grand Forks. There was just no winning them back the whole evening. They hated everybody, but they hated our poor emcee the most. I didn’t even send him back out to announce me. I just walked out.
In another instance, when I ran an Open Stage for Dudley Riggs’ Experimental Theatre in Minneapolis, the late, great comic Wild Bill Bauer, who lived up to his name in every way, was supposed to do 15 minutes of time. As I waited down in the green room to close, I noticed that he was going WAAAY over his time. But I heard no laughter. When he quit after an excruciating 40 minutes and met me backstage while the emcee was bringing me on, he said, “I’m sorry, Susan. They hated me and I decided to punish them for it.” Lord, I miss him.
Now why do I mention this in the context of politics? Because ONE of the reasons Donald J. Trump ran the table in the recent election is that he was not afraid to “follow” strong speakers. He was not afraid to pick a really capable, handsome, brilliant and impressive Vice President instead of a prancing babbling buffoon.
President Trump now has a team, a “posse” for all intents and purposes, composed of some of the most impressive human beings on Earth – Elon Musk, RFK, Tulsi Gabbard, J.D. Vance, Vivek Ramaswamy, and on and on. Whereas Kamala, in order to find someone who would not outshine her – evidently Maxine Waters wouldn’t take the job — had to go find a girlie man so debased that he was willing to play a self-confessed “knucklehead” whose main job was to do abysmally written and poorly rehearsed little skits in which he would procure Doritos for The Brat Queen.
As a comic, it is my firm belief that – Sheldon Cooper notwithstanding – humor is intimately tied to intelligence, in both the comic and the audience! You have to be able to make your audience see the connection between Premise A and Conclusion B and then Big Fun Surprise C. Kamala could not make even a modest quip if her very life depended on it.
Also, in comedy, you have to be able to “read the room.” Are you in front of Teamsters or nuns? (I have played both.) The first thing I usually did was inform my audience that I grew up in a Middle Class Family with a nice lawn. And then I would try to copy the accent of whatever group I was playing. No, wait. I didn’t do that at all! Just like Donald J. Trump, I was just myself no matter the group, no matter the venue. I didn’t try to do a Jewish accent in New York or a Southern accent in Alabama. I was stuck with my nasal Minnesota accent no matter what. (Think Walter Mondale in drag…)
But on my walk the other day, I did tell the Paranoid Texan, my walking partner, about a joke that proved not all humor is universal. I used to have a line in my act about my long marriage that always played very well in the bland spice-resistant Midwest: “I’ve been married so long we’re already on our third botte of Tabasco Sauce.” (See? We use a drop a week, so 3 bottles would last for decades… get it?)
But one day I was in front of 1100 lovely ladies in Baton Rouge, LA. I did the joke and it didn’t just bomb. There was dead silence. But the ladies looked at me expectantly, clearly waiting for a punch line! I had to explain the joke, how Minnesotans introduce pepper as a spice on the 18th birthday, but truly once you explain ‘em, you need to move on quickly. They forgave me and loved the rest of the set.
When I flew out the next day, the chairlady of the event brought me a parting gift – a beautiful silver Tabasco Sauce holder that sits on every table in Louisiana! It held a bottle of Tabasco Sauce about three times larger than any I had ever owned.
RESOLUTIONS FOR 2025
I resolve to pray for the health, safety, and wisdom of our President and his team every single day. They can’t do it alone, folks. We have to fight fight fight. Give in on NOTHING. Only “reach across the aisle” to give somebody a noogie.
I resolve never again to “diet” in whatever life is left to me. I will move more, stress less, eat healthily, but never eschew any particular food if it brings me joy. Life is short and getting shorter by the day. Like me.
That’s it. 2025 cannot come soon enough, particularly January 20th. God Bless us every one! God Bless America!
