An Updated Classic


By Scott Eckert

I went to sleep with a Muslim President and when I woke up I still had a Muslim President, and when I got out of bed Gretchen wasn’t on Fox and Friends, and God made my girlfriend pregnant again, and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

In traffic I wanted to drive in the carpool lane. Rideshares got to drive in the carpool lane. Electric buses and hybrid cars too. But the nanny state wouldn’t let me drive in the carpool lane. I said it was unconstitutional. I said it was socialism. I said if I don’t get to drive in the carpool lane I’m going to use my Second Amendment rights. No one even listened.

It was shaping up to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

At work Paul found a debt-financed Keynesian stimulus check in his W-2 Tax Statement, and Miguel found an Illegal Alien Amnesty voucher in his W-2 Tax Statement, but in my W-2 Tax Statement all I found were taxes.

I think I’ll move to Communist China.

At my daughter’s parent-teacher conference Mrs. Dickens liked science’s proof of anthropogenic climate change better than my faith in Young Earth creationism. At Pledge of Allegiance time she said I screamed “Under God” too loud. At Phys Ed she said I was morbidly obese. And at counting time I left out sixteen. Who needs sixteen?

I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

I could tell because the RNC Chairman said I wasn’t his best friend anymore. He said that undecided women are his best friend, and that Hispanics and gays are his next best friend, and that red-blooded Americans are only his third best friend. “I hope you lose a bunch of Governorships,” I said.

There were low-interest student loans for Barney in the budget deal, and Ted got affordable health insurance, and Andrew’s Congressmen got his state disaster relief funding to rebuild their crumbling infrastructure. Guess who’s Congressman wants a balanced budget and sponsored an anti-earmark amendment? It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Next week, I said, I’m going to Communist China.

Then I voted in the Republican primary. Dick got his neoconservative candidate elected, and Donald got his pro-Wall Street candidate elected, but all I got was a candidate willing to compromise his conservative values. And he’s probably a serial adulterer too.

There was a calorie count on my Chick-fil-A dinner menu and I hate calorie counts.

There was sex on TV and I hate sex.

At bedtime the price of gold plummeted, my water was too fluoridated, my weed was too legal, and I had to listen to Chris Christie on Hannity. He didn’t even bring up Solyndra, Benghazi, or the IRS scandal once. I hate Chris Christie.

It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day!

My mom says some days are like this.

Rush says they all are.


Taken from McSweeney’s

This struck a chord with me as "Alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day" was a bedtime favorite for my son and me when he was really young. I would read it and he would catch any mistake I made as he had it totally memorized. That and another rhyme that went something like "Pop bottles pop bottles.." which now escapes me completely.

For my daughter, it was a hand-clapping sing along to "Someone’s in the kitchen with Dinah", “This land is your land” and “She’ll be comin’ round the mountain”.

Those were great days.

Wow. That’s kind of a Father’s Day memory, isn’t it?

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