This is the part of the day I look forward to most. I know there's something bizarre out there. I just don't know what it is yet.

The 2016 presidential campaign, it is now officially stupid and boring. And it needs to go away.

In the Republican version of making the president, that irredeemable fathead, The Hairball, he is poisoning all of the air, up to and including the outer stratosphere, with his embarrassing, incontinent whining about how They are "stealing my nomination." Because, as a moron maximus, The Hairball, he believed he could somehow become the president, simply by wandering the land, like some two-headed ewe in a traveling freak show, ceaselessly bleating about all the ways he would hurt and kill the brown people. The Hairball, not until very recently, did he awaken to the fact that, to become the Republican nominee to be the president, he actually had to secure delegates.

Which is something that has long been known to the creepy, sinister vampire who is The Hairball's opponent, the unholy onanist Zed Crud. And to Crud's campaign manager, Fish Roe. The latter, he is a beastie-boy of dark and massive proportions. A man who makes Lee Atwater look like Mary Poppins. Roe, he once ran a campaign wherein he drove the opposing candidate to suicide. And didn't give a shit.

And so, as Crud, and Roe, they methodically scoop up The Hairball's would-be delegates, The Hairball himself, he remains consumed by distractions like suing to protect his penis.

Regular readers of the Sesames and Tummlers may recall this piece here, where it was revealed that The Hairball, he possesses a micropenis. This news of The Hairball's microscopic member, it was there illustrated by the image reproduced, again, there to the right. The work of artist Ilma Gore. Who maintains "I don't believe I did anything wrong. It's my work and I'll stand by it no matter what." By seeking to enforce copyright over Gore's painting, The Hairball, and his people, they are implicitly conceding that The Hairball's penis is, well, a pinhead.

By this past weekend, Republican National Committee chair Rinse Pubis, he was so fed up with The Hairball, that he went on all the Sunday shows, and there described The Hairball as a "big-mouth bitch bully," and "the biggest scumbag on the planet." Among other pleasantries.

Meanwhile, no one knows what has happened to Death Of A Salesman, the third man allegedly in the Republican race. He has disappeared as completely as Malaysian Airlines Flight 370.

Over in the Democratic version of making the president, the Hillbillies, they are ceaselessly voiding their bowels, like people in the last stages of cholera. Simply because The Cranky Brooklyn Deli Man, he was invited to a conference at the Vatican, and there met the pope.

To attempt to explain away this apparent anathema, the Hillbillies, they have concocted two competing narratives.

First, the Deli Man, he is a rude, pushy Jew, who elbowed himself into a conference where he wasn't wanted, and then hung around in a hallway, like a wino, so he could rush out and pester the pope like some peddler.

Second, the Deli Man, he is an insidious, scheming, controlling Jew, who possesses some dark, aphotic power over the Vatican, and can effortlessly bend it to his will.

The Hillbillies, they could give two shits, that here they are trafficking in two of the more pathetic libels oft ladled upon people of the Hebrew persuasion. Because all that matters, to them, is their candidate. The Mad Bomber. Uber alles.

A convocation of extraterrestrials recently convened to get to the root of The Mad Bomber appeal. There seemed, to them, no real reason why a human—any human at all—would want The Bomber to be the president. But the extraterrestrials, they figured there must be some rational explanation. Until, in the end, they threw up their tentacles in despair. Support for The Mad Bomber, they concluded, is simply inexplicable. Like tulip mania. That made no sense, either. And yet, that was a real thing. Lemmings leap off cliffs, to drown themselves in the sea; oompa loompas, they pound the calliope, for The Mad Bomber. That's just the way it is, sometimes, here on this planet.

The Hillibillies, they might reflect that their own candidate, The Mad Bomber, evinces behavior that commonly constitutes yet another libel against Jews: she is all about money. The Bomber, she doesn't want to go anywhere, unless there is money there. Lots and lots and lots of it. Of money, she can never get enough. And neither can her husband, The Clenis. These two, they can be millionaires. And yet, publicly, she will weep, and she will rend her garments, that they are, both of them, "dead broke."

Of course, The Bomber is not Jewish. For Jews, they have standards. And The Mad Bomber, she does not measure up. They won't have her.

In this slam-the-Jew thing, as in everything else in The Bomber's campaign, the fish rots from the head.

For, on Passover, The Bomber inscribed, for a Cro-Magnon Israeli newspaper, a piece in which she goysplained why she is, in truth, a better Jew, than The Cranky Brooklyn Deli Man.

This is pandering comparable to her claim, when campaigning in the states of the south, that she bore Martin Luther King's love child. And her rust-belt assertion, that she was once a nun, murdered for her faith, down in El Salvador.

As soon as she was finished sharing her bat mitzvah photos with the Times of Israel people, The Bomber flapped over to a black radio station, where she was asked what she always carries in her purse.

"Hot sauce," The Bomber answered. "Yeah."

"Now listen," one of the interviewers responded, "I want you to know that people are going to see this and say, 'she's pandering to black people.'"

"I know," replied The Bomber. "Is it working?"

Then she rattled on about how "I've been eating a lot of hot sauce. Raw peppers and hot sauce. I think it keeps my immune system strong. Hot sauce is good for you."

Oh dear lord. She wants us to think she's Beyonce. With "hot sauce in my bag, swag."

The horror. The horror.

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LrCHz1gwzTo]

This hideous campaign, it could end as soon as today. Because, today, it is scheduled to be, like, doomsday.

[People] should watch out for two events that would take place simultaneously on April 19 in New York City and London, Christian author Michael Synder says.

On that day, reproductions of the arch that stood in front of the Temple of Baal in Palmyra, Syria are going to be erected in Times Square and in Trafalgar Square. That would coincide with an occult festival related to the worship of a demon named Baal.

Writing for Charisma News, Synder wonders whether the arches to be installed would be the giant "welcome signs" for the Antichrist.

"April 19 is the first day of a 13-day period of time known as 'the Blood Sacrifice to the Beast' that culminates on the high occult holy day of Beltane on May 1," he says.

Synder wonders: "Is it just a coincidence that we are erecting arches for this ancient deity in New York and London on a date that is exceedingly significant for those that worship this ancient deity? Could it be possible that there is more to these 'gateways' that are being constructed than we are being told?"

The author notes that mankind has entered a period of time known in the Bible as "the last days."

"From this point forward, things are going to get much, much stranger. Ultimately, the world that we live in is going to come to resemble something out of a post-apocalyptic science fiction novel," Synder warns.

Well shit howdy. The Antichrist. That's all we need.

While researching this terrifying Baal erection, I came across a doomsday I had somehow missed. That was February 19 of this year. To wit:

Based on breaking news and events, it appears that CIA Headquarters beneath Lake Geneva is plotting a man-made Doomsday asteroid attack. Although a major asteroid, comet or meteor has not struck Earth since the Dinosaur Age, one is expected on Friday, February 19, 2016, nonetheless.

The would-be Nostradamus who penned this boner, he is an interesting fellow. His most recent piece, it is titled "Obama 666: Will America's First Dictator Please Stand Up?", and it is longer than War and Peace. Therein we learn, among other things:

Based on where the Obama family reportedly emanated from in Ried bei Kerzers, Switzerland, as well as Obama’s physical traits and personal mannerisms, it appears that Obama is a hybrid descendant of Septimius Severus, the first African Roman Emperor, and the late American civil rights leader Malcom X.

Obama was given the birth name of "Barry Soetoro" which he retained until circa 1980 when he was subsequently re-named Barack Hussein Obama II. The fictitious name of "O-bomb-a" was created to foreshadow the impending nuclear attack on America which will ultimately elevate Obama to dictator status.

The fact that Obama's motorcade is officially entitled "The Beast" is no accident for it was designed to foreshadow the rise of the Anti-Christ, the dreaded "Mark of the Beast" (i.e., "666"), and the "End Times" which is why the world is now suffering unprecedented chaos, climate change, disease, terrorism and war.

In short, Obama is the Anti-Christ long warned about in the Holy Bible (the allegorical and metaphorical history book of the Roman Empire) who was genetically spawned by the CIA in Switzerland to counter the arrival of the Messiah and the Apocalypse which, contrary to popular belief, does mean the "End of the World".

You see! It is all connected! The Baal arches, they are going up today, in London and New York, to welcome the Antichrist, who is Obama!

I am happy, to figure this out for you. It is my duty.

Maybe all that, it seems a bit far-fetched. But, you know, things, just as strange. Certainly have happened.

Like, when the chief law-enforcement officer of the Americans, he was a person who lost an election to a dead man. Rubbed himself up with Crisco, before taking the oath of office. Abjured calico cats, as agents of The Evil One. Threw a shroud over a statue of the Spirit of Justice, lest her bare stone breasts wreak havoc across the land. And publicly brayed hymns to Satan.

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5sMDG_bpBAk]

So the bus driver today, as he was humming his vehicle through the town, he was whistling "Low Rider."

I thought that was pretty cool.

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TUT46ZR5CC8]

Also kinda cool, is the electronica track, "Exit," wherein Edward Snowden, collaborated with Jean-Michael Jarre.

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fOxHeQ9kDgY]

Next, Snowden should collaborate with Pussy Riot. Of course, they won't be able to record in the same studio. Because Snowden, he can't leave Russia, without going into the jail. And Pussy Riot, they can't go into Russia, without going into the jail.

"Nations." So stupid.

Billions of cicadas are preparing to descend upon the northeastern United States.

They are after The Hairball.

Dogs, they are now flying the airplanes.

No.

Have you ever wondered if maybe you're schizophrenic?

Now, there is a quick and easy Science Man test, that can answer that question for you.

Gaze at the image there to the left.

If you perceive the mask as convex, which it is not, you are not schizophrenic.

If you perceive it as concave, which it is, then you are schizophrenic.

I cannot determine if I myself am schizophrenic. Because I can't seem to puzzle out what "convex" and "concave" are.

At least, I do now know. That I am a moron.