The Golden Moutza doesn’t taste like apples, carrots or sugar cubes.

Every month around Golden Moutza of the Month time there’s always somebody who can’t pick just one.

“So much Nah!” cried Mark Paulson. “So many worthy candidates. Not enough time. No not enough time to recognize them all.”

But Mark, with a never-ending horde of morons stretching beyond the far horizon, it is your duty to help save what remains of civilization:

The nominees include the Dreadhead Cowboy, Adam Hollingsworth, who was made by the media when he rode his horse, NuNu, in support of protesters, then abandoned by the media when he shut down the Dan Ryan (in a failed protest over violence against children) and all but galloped poor NuNu to death.

And much-criticized presidential debate moderator Chris Wallace of Fox News, who compared his meticulous debate preparations to a cake. “I had baked this beautiful, delicious cake, and then frankly, the president put his foot in it,” Wallace said defending himself.

Wallace was a hot topic when I sat in with Dan Proft on his morning radio program. Listeners compared Wallace to “The Anal Retentive Chef ” played by the late Phil Hartman on the old “Saturday Night Live,” back when it was funny.

That’s not chocolate mousse. That’s a moutza.

Or what of the Louisiana man arrested with a gun hidden within his buttocks? Or Nicholas J. Ellingford, an Oregon man who police said accidentally shot himself in the “groin area” while playing with a loaded gun at a supermarket?

You know how this works. Readers find me on social media and nominate their candidates with a hearty “Nah!” (here, take it!) or Feesah etho (blow right here) in the manner of the ancient Hellenes.

For September, I sought the nonpolitical. Presidents are always exempt, because that would be too easy. When I exempted former President Barack Obama, the left praised me for my decency. Yet now they shriek in rage and call me hypocrite for not giving one to President Donald Trump. Such is politics. Trump has now tested positive for the coronavirus and the left’s selfrighteous glee is on display in the media everywhere, but let’s get back to the matter at your hands.

“It’s moutza time already?” asked Ann MacIntosh Baker. “Time flies when the end of the world is upon us. Anyway, I have been shirking my moutza nomination duties for the past few months, so I’ll throw one out. This nincompoop woman, while screaming and making hand gestures at Trump supporters, rear-ended the car in front of her. Oh, and directly behind, a squad car. Nah!”

The video was seen by millions. But that happens when people resort to vulgarities of the lowest order, like “the finger.” If she had only used a one-handed moutza, she could have kept her eyes on the road.

Matthew Latourette, a lover of disgusting candy corn, sent me a preemptive Halloween moutza.

“To the candy corn haters. So much hate and divisiveness you bring to this delicious little treat,” he said. “How can you hate this simple candy made of sugar, corn syrup, salt, dextrose, gelatin, sesame oil, artificial flavor, honey, Yellow 6, Yellow 5 and Red 3? Nah to you haters.”

Oh really? Here, Matt my friend, take five and eat them, Nah! Nobody likes candy corn.

Bob Angone nominated “the Swedish Scientists who say eating flesh of DEAD humans will save the world! I nominate Magnus Soderlund for a moutza. Nah. Coming soon to fast-food restaurants. Chipped cheeks on a hard roll with a touch of tartar sauce.”

Tartar sauce? Revolting. Everyone knows it would need garlic and lemon. Media pounced on this one, but it turned out that Soderland wasn’t exactly advocating we eat humans.

He was merely offering it up for discussion, to “turn over every stone,” he said, to save the planet because of, what else, climate change.

“When it comes to human flesh there are various taboos that are hard to break, and it’s probably the case that human flesh will never be a large scale thing in the West or in our time … It would be difficult for anyone who wanted to break into the human flesh business.”

But it was clear that Hollingsworth, the Dreadhead Cowboy, was the overwhelming choice.

“The Dreadhead Cowboy hands down,” said Peter Bella. “His stunt was a danger to the horse, the general public, police officers and state troopers. It was no protest. It was an egotistic vanity publicity stunt.”

“Didn’t he know anything about horses on pavement?” said Danna M. Wood. “He pushed the poor horse to gallop most of 7.5 miles. The horse had bleeding legs and could hardly breathe. And then, he professes to love his horses but says he’d do it again. And asks for donations to build a stable. Feesah etho! Nah! to the Dreadhead Cowboy.”

Stephanie Pyrzynski, who blogs at TinleyParkMom, reports that NuNu now lives happily at a stable in the southwestern suburb. And the Dreadhead Cowboy has already been charged with felony animal cruelty.

He galloped that horse on pavement for miles on the expressway. He says he loves his horses. I think he was misguided. All that media attention went to his head. Still, he deserves something for NuNu’s pain.

Not a palmful of sugar cubes, but the Golden Moutza of September.

Dreadhead? It’s bitter, isn’t it? Nah!

Listen to “The Chicago Way” podcast with John Kass and Jeff Carlin — at www.wgnradio.com/ category/wgn-plus/ thechicagoway.