This Months Posts

The Calendar of Malarkey with Wacky Benny – Episode 2 Friday, July 4 – Thursday, July 10, 2025 7 Delightfully Absurd Firsts, Including: Historic BBQ’s, Revolutionary Naps, Rebellious Fish Dinners, and the Most Lovable Legislative Monster in History

Calendar of Malarkey

The Calendar of Malarkey with Wacky Benny – Episode 2 Friday, July 4 – Thursday, July 10, 2025

 

7 Delightfully Absurd Firsts, Including: Historic BBQ’s, Revolutionary Naps, Rebellious Fish Dinners, and the Most Lovable Legislative Monster in History

 

Satire Disclaimer

 

The following is a work of satire intended to parody the modern media landscape, current events, and humanity’s relentless talent for nonsense. If you’ve ever shouted at a politician while holding a sandwich, this Calendar of Malarkey is for you.

 

📅 Friday July 4th — The Great Accidental Barbecue Treaty of 1803

 

 

In honor of Independence Day, The Calendar of Malarkey discovered on this day in 1803, American diplomats mistakenly grilled the Louisiana Purchase agreement.

Calendar of malarkey

During heated Fourth of July festivities in Paris, U.S. ambassador Chester Elbowstone (no relation to reality) confused the treaty papers with a stack of fire-starting kindling and tossed them onto a patriotic meat fire behind the embassy.

 

The smoked pork ribs were reportedly “delicious,” but France, having just downed three bottles of revolutionary champagne, approved the deal anyway.

 

The Barbecue Treaty, as it became known, remains the only international agreement ever ratified while slathered in bourbon glaze.

 

Historians claim Napoleon later said, “Let them eat brisket.”

 

Wacky Benny’s: “If America can acquire 828,000 square miles by slow-cooking a contract over hickory wood, imagine what we could do with a smoker and some diplomatic seasoning.

 

We might’ve smoked our way to global peace by now—if only we hadn’t declared war on salad.”

 

💤 Saturday July 5th The Great Nap Rebrand of 1907 – Paris, France

 

In honor of new research showing power naps boost creativity, the Calendar of Malarkey revisits 1907’s boldest PR pivot: the renaming of naps.

Calendar of malarkey

For centuries, naps were known by names like:

 

Whimper Breaks

 

Gentle Fainties

 

Mope Reclines

 

Cuddle Shudders

 

Needless to say, no one took them.

 

That changed at the International Symposium on Sleep and Swagger, when a frustrated French neurologist shouted: “Zey are not ze wimp collapses—zey are POWER NAPS!”

 

According to The Calendar of Malarkey by 1909, coal miners took “Alpha-Slams.” By 1910, boxers demanded “Strategic Brain Sleep.” By 1911, a toddler sued to trademark “Micro-Hunk Mode.”

 

Wacky Benny: “Rebranding naps wasn’t just marketing. It was survival. And that’s how we got from Mope Reclines to Elon Musk installing sleep pods shaped like ideas.”

 

🌯️ Sunday July 6th: The Founding of the “Party of Three” – Disputed Waffle Hall, 1744

 

As Elon Musk threatens to create a third political party just to annoy Donald Trump, the Calendar of Malarkey flashes back to 1744’s Party of Three, formed entirely to tick off rival candidates.

Calendar of malarkey

Led by Baron Von Spitenheim, the party platform was simple: “Do whatever makes the loud guy mad.”

 

Membership included:

 

A rebellious cartographer

 

A bard who owed taxes

 

And a guy named Todd (distant relative to the creator of The Calendar of Malarkey) who just liked attention (Minister of Loud Opinions)

 

The party handed out free fish dinners to sway voters, offering either filet-o-fish or fish sticks depending on loyalty.

 

Wacky Benny: “It was the only political party with more chefs than voters. Historians say it failed due to tartar sauce rationing and the fact that its slogan was just ‘One tantrum. One tartar sauce. One vote.’”

 

🗑️ Monday July 7th: The First International Trash Return – Year: 1734, Somewhere Off the Coast of Embarrassment

 

As Malaysia rejects millions of pounds of U.S. plastic waste, the Calendar of Malarkey recalls the Return to Sender Rebellion of 1734. The Duchy of Refusalia launched 72 barrels of colonial “recyclables” back across the Atlantic, including:

Calendar of malarkey

34 cracked chamber pots

 

11 deflated sheep bladders

 

One love letter from Ben Franklin written on a sandwich wrapper

 

The barrels returned with a postage stamp that read: “Return to Ender.”

 

Wacky Benny: “Historians argue over what was more toxic—the plastics or the attitude. Either way, both are still floating somewhere off the coast of shame.”

 

📨 Tuesday July 8th: The First Government Surveillance by Mailman – Year: 1802

 

As modern surveillance grows more subtle (and creepier), the Calendar of Malarkey remembers the Postal Peek Act of 1802, when government mailmen were instructed to sniff envelopes and judge intent based on moisture.

Calendar of malarkey

If the lick was “overly aggressive,” the sender was flagged. If it tasted like meat, it was intercepted. If it made the mailman feel “emotionally exposed,” it was read aloud in town square.

 

Wacky Benny: “Early surveillance was less about data, more about drama. And mailmen had more power than kings—especially if they had sinus issues.”

 

📲 Wednesday July 9th: The First Official Declaration of Love via Follower Status – The Kingdom of Vainia, 1422

 

Inspired by Kylie Jenner finally following Timothée Chalamet on Instagram after two years of dating, the Calendar of Malarkey looks back to Lady Influenzia of Vainia, who refused to declare love unless her suitor:

Calendar of malarkey

Praised her shoe choices

 

Displayed hand-painted portraits of only her

 

Liked 87% of her curated opinions on jousting and falconry

 

Followed her official scroll updates

 

When Lord Filterfail delayed subscribing, she paused the relationship for “spiritual branding purposes.”

 

Wacky Benny: “Love used to mean undying devotion. Now it means retweeting my outfit and pretending you didn’t see me post the same quote twice. And if you don’t like my falcon, we’re done.”

 

📄 Thursday July 10th: The First Bill So Big, It Was Used as a Blanket – Year: 1789 and Again in 2025

 

In honor of the 940-page megabill that just passed the Senate—taxing the poor, rewarding the rich, and gently tapping rural hospitals on the head—the Calendar of Malarkey uncovered an early legislative beast known as The Big Beautiful Bill (BBB), first introduced in 1789 by Lord Spendalot and Count Loophole.

Calendar of malarkey

The bill was so long it had to be delivered by ox-drawn wagon. It taxed candles but gave rebates to chandeliers, subsidized powdered wigs but eliminated hair care for peasants, and redirected funds from the sick to support the wealthy’s vacation castles in “Florida” (then a concept, not a place).

 

Wacky Benny: “Legends say early drafts of this bill were printed on parchment so wide it doubled as picnic blankets for the elite. And the poor? They were charged rent to sit on the edge—and a surcharge if they dared to read it.”

 

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