Saturday, February 28, 2015
Conservative Political Action Conference
--in muddled dialog
-Watched CPAC for a week this morning.
-I heard College of Ophthalmologists are monitoring
it for eye-bulge.
-Hey! Have some perspective! Every country in the
world has a vicious Right and Left. Though this
grotesque bunch stands foremost for seething.
-And the Left here has to be largely imagined.
-They do a helluva job on that point! And with
Moslems in the woodwork for a bonus!
-So the speakers be bush? The videos are beautiful!
The whole family walking the snowy ranch?
-Dr Goebbels lives!
-Yeah, but so what? Let them have their bent fun.
The North will rise again!
-Better hurry!
Labels: Angry Right, Conservative Political Action Conference, CPAC, Diffident Left, Goebbels, Left, Right
Friday, February 27, 2015
Two Comedians on a Shingle
BOTH
We live in Cocoa Beach, awash in
putrid Right-Wing Radio.
ONE
That's ONE Fascist stink!
TWO
Aspiring. Too incoherent to get there yet.
ONE
Beware! The Idiots' Lobby is very very
strong!
TWO
I'm bewaring! Should I get a gun?
ONE
What else?
TWO
We're spose to dance off singing a song
about mothers.
ONE
Uh uh! Mine just told me to go f-
TWO
Why do some people ruin just perfectly
lovely schemes? Family, Home, Nation!
ONE
It's like a tide-ful of rubbers.
TWO
But THAT could be either Right OR Left!
ONE
Not aesthetically.
Labels: aesthetics, American Fascism, Cocoa Beach, Fascism, Left, Right Wing Radio
Thursday, February 26, 2015
Party 1,2,3
A Few Points Coming In
1 Well, they got their compromise!
2 And so fast-hatched and shoddy, it
favors us.
3 The main thrust was to save THEIR face!
1 They owe us one.
2 You mean when we’re neck-deep in mire someday?
3 Of their debt to us, we must constantly remind them.
1 Lest they shunt it, and us, aside out of embarrassment?
2 It always behooves us to remind them of embarrassment.
3 What is face-time for? Especially on the networks?
1 To twist it in unrelentingly!
2 I’m keeping my kids out of politics.
3 Nonsense! Just have to apprise them of a few points
coming in.
Labels: compromise, face, face-time, political compromise, political vulnerability, politics, Saving Face
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Herding Enchiladas
Large Political Consultant
-I thought you were done when you predicted
your party’d prevail for the next fifty or
so years. And your vaunted clock got cleaned
in the very next election!
-Hey! You win some, you lose some. And some
are called off because of rain.
-Of Stupidity, rather.
-That too.
-And now here you are, bigger than ever!
-MONEY! I got our important boys and girls
together and explained that’s what it’s
all about! And forget the rest.
-Then, the Supreme Court affirmed your
distinguished thinking.
-They found, in their wisdom, the side their
bread was buttered on.
-And yours?
-Definitely mine.
-Thus, we’re all frantically running in a race
nobody wants to be in.
-Speak for yourself. God made the world.
-Doing you a helluva favor!
-It’s about favors too.
-Tammany Hall, blown up to mega proportions!
-Super Mega!
-A Black Hole! if you ask me. Where the
one-percent of the one-percent buy
elections outright! Like estates or limousines!
-Or politicians? So? Wake up and smell the
greenbacks! Ahhhh!
Labels: bought and sold, Citizens United, favors, Money as Speech, money in politics, one-percent, political corruption, Supreme Court, Wake up and smell the money
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
2035, Divine Year
-However celestial the goal, it still
required some old-fashioned politics.
I won't bore Your Magnificence with
the grimy details.
And, of course, this is for you, and...
doesn't include the wife?
-Her? A God? I can see that you couldn't
stretch things THAT far. It's fine. She'll be
satisfied if it's just me.
-Okay, the Senate and House will be
called together in a week, compulsory!
And you be declared a God!
-I'm humbled.
-We have yet to work out holidays in your
honor and where the temple is to be built.
-I'd like a small one on The Mall, but a
much larger one back home. I'll live in
the later and receive sinners. In the
former, folks can go to my image and
pray to me for The Nation!
-Finished! Or as good AS! My only worry is that
it sets a precedent.
-One and done! I'd say.
-Well, the Democrats could come back in, and
eventually want to declare one of theirs a...
-The very idea is absurd on its face!
Labels: declaring a God, Democrat, divinity, faith, Faith and Politics, God, politics, Republican
Monday, February 23, 2015
Rain and Friends
Drifting and Dreaming
A Saturday rain had been almost guaranteed, but not this monsoon!
Kept Hodge in, so he watched the Weather Channel, drifted into daydreams.
Violent ones! He took out Arabs, got medals.
Just an outline. Then, slept for two hours, waking up with ferocious munchies as he was being honored by the UN, but as a steady Man of Peace.
There had been in there a totally unsatisfactory
argument with Gwen. Soon to be ex! he now
proclaimed silently.
A homosexual episode tried to horn in, also. He had
tried before with ridiculous results.
The man was transferred soon after, and he bumped
into him in an airport once. They had a quick drink,
since this Rentz had a date with a pilot.
“Stay with your pilot, but as for me, there's work
to be done!” Hodge shouted over the pounding rain
as he hunted for crackers.
Gwen phoned, promising the deluge would stop
by early evening, so they decided to see a Russian
historical flick.
Gwen laughed at the inept titling. She had taken
a couple of Russian courses at Cornell, and hung
around the department, then in an old house.
Mostly for the food, since two professors cooked
lunch if she brought the ingredients.
After the movie, at the Too-Chaste Coffee Emporium he knew enough to say nothing of the daydream.
"Oh that’s just Walter Mitty!" she would have said.
Most everything of his was dismissed in a literary
manner. She often wore a French beret. Though
tonight, a Yankee’s cap.
Hodge stayed benign, perhaps hung-over from the
vividness of the dreams. She found it refreshing.
He had been labeled Chatty Kathy by her several times.
She snuggled up. Tried to steal his Danish while
whispering amorous plans.
He decided to keep her.
Labels: daydream, dream, fantasy, heroism, homosexuality, monsoon, rain, relationship;Weather Channel, weather
Sunday, February 22, 2015
Consumer Report
Cornhuskers
-Go with the flow! Will you, SOMEtimes, Mark? Everything isn’t like writing a termpaper at Chadron State!
-Well, I still don’t understand why a whore in Vegas
affects my new muffler in Hastings!
-Chitzy at the garage is tight with Otz, the muffler
salesman. He usually just gives him calendars,
ballpoints, do-dads, but his year he really
came through!
-Well, my research shows that Rackell dropped a
lot in the rankings. Too late now, but I would prefer
another brand!
-Put it in the paper, and then, for CRIsakes, hit Vegas yourself!
Labels: car repair, Consumer Reports, muffler, Nebraska, Vegas
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Involving Incident
THE BLUFFS CHRISTIAN HOME
Homer Shnitzman, MD
Delbert Hans, MD
Loretta Menton-Hale, MD, PhD
Two Orderlies:
-Nothing ever happened on my vacation before.
I caught a break!
-Surprised the news never penetrated the Poconos.
-Only Panic-Weather TV there. STORM OF THE CENTURY!
-Well, anyway, one of our ninety year olds grabbed
a young girl visitor. He “sprung” from Supply Room.
-Did she escape The Fate Worse Than Death?
-By kicking him in the balls, hard and repeatedly.
-Ouch, I think–-whatever is left of that shrunken package,
at any rate.
-Shnitzy wants us to sign on to new, ever-watchful regulations.
-Even if good sports crap on TV?
-That new lady Doc said the old fart had “reverted to Pure Male!”
-Did he now? Something in the water? That one’s a snip!
-The Church has declared her husband a martyr.
-Not shocked.
-What if...one of our women reverts to Pure Female?”
-Much more serious!
-Too Scary!
-God wouldn’t let it happen.
Labels: Alzheimer, dementia, doctors, God, men, mental hospital, Old Age, orderly, women
Friday, February 20, 2015
Global Capitalism, European Version,
Greek Style
...they're being told that their way out of crisis
is to drill for oil and gas in their beautiful seas,
in the Mediterranean and the Ionian. -Naomi Klein
Hey! So it’s a fuckin tradeoff:
Beauty for Filth! And what’s so
fuckin wrong about that, Mr Plato?
Like, grow up and smell the ouzo!
Hey, it’s really only a problem
when it’s YOUR grandmother
in the wheelbarrow.
But that’s Middle Eastern,
or African hellholes.
Not Omonoia Square!
Labels: Compound Interest, Debt, European Market, Greek, Greek Financial Crisis, oil, tourism
City Politics
“Marie, Marie!
Go wash your feet.
The Board of Health's
across the street!”
How we Irish asserted thus
our hygienic superiority in
New Haven, for now we won
via Mayor Richard Lee,
after generations of Yankee
fucking. So, we, in turn
fucked the Italians. My
father worked for the Journal-
Courier, published by
John Day Jackson, who
didn't descend from Prospect
Street to cast many Democratic
votes. Italians eventually got
their Dick Celentano, Republican.
Then, the Blacks fretted in
the wings. Eventually scored too.
And, after, the Hispanics. It’s
the story of the slugging Northeast city.
And one hell of a one in it’s grimier
precincts! Freedom of Information Act
devised for such. Small potatoes, but
toxic little buggers!
Labels: black, city politics, Democrat, Irish, Italian, New England Politics, New Haven, Northeast, Republican
Thursday, February 19, 2015
The Nose on Your Ear
-Well, paid all my bills except the one.
-Run outa checks?
-Nope. Lost it.
-Call up! Ask them how much, etcetera.
-Don't remember who they is!
-If you was a company, you flop!
-Ah, but not before firing half the workers.
-Go on!
-Eliminating all vacations and overtime!
-Bingo!
-And then cutting the wages of the remaining
terrorized in half!
-Capitalism is one slicing marvel! Is the Big
Boss done?
-Raids the pension plan.
-Where you been? They’s gone long ago! Replaced
by IRAs, or THE WALL STREET BONANZA GOUGE.
-No matter, for now that he's whipped you into
submission, you're the chief selling-point
when he unloads to a competitor.
-Another Republican?
-Mais oui! What else?
-I can get ALONG with this new guy!
-First one fired!
-Too bad. I came close to working for nothing!
-That's the perfection they're aiming for.
They call it the Right To Work For Nothing.
-Well, good luck to the seven left.
-They're dismissed! Plant moves South!
-His first mistake! To the Land of Take This
Job and Shove It ?
-Things get shoved all right! Up the rectum
of the most docile and cowardly workers
in the world!
-Outside of Asia?
-Asian companies come there. Case closed.
-Will Cornpone Capitalism save the world?
-Undoubtedly! Plain as the nose on your ear.
-Psychosomatic. Now that I'm fired, I expect
it to migrate back to its proper place.
-We must keep our place. Therein lies happiness!
-Lies happen!
Labels: American Capitalism, benefits, Cornpone Capitalism, low wages, pay, Race to Bottom, Republican, Right To Work, South, Southern worker, wages, Wall Street
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Long Miracle
-Chickenhawks had no end of sharp-as-a-tack
advice to those willing to risk their lives.
-Whatever happened to them, anywayz?
-They're still around. Advising your KID now.
-And theirs remain safe, family and militant gombahs huddled round?
-They wouldn't have it any other way!
-Why do cowardly assholes have such longevity in America?
-It's our greatest feature!
Labels: bravery, chickenhawk, courage, coward, longevity, neocon, war
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Love is not Love
that alters when it alternation finds
-Monday is a great day to be a vicious Conservative!
Think about it: you’re forced back into work,
hung over from the weekend, stomach-sick,
and thoroughly pissed.
-Do you relax Tuesday?
-Then I’m a Liberal! Pie-in-the-sky horseshit to spend
everybody else’s money.
-Don’t tell me you alternate!
-Precisely! Wednesday, gleefully back to grinding the
faces of the undeserving poor...which is all of them,
especially our darker brethren.
-So? You’re opposite extreme Extremists!
-Thursday, I peak. Pretty little guillotine on the bed of
my pickup, I cruse the upscale shopping centers after work.
.
-My God! You don’t...execute?
-Not yet. Just, remind. Play a cassette of heads hitting
baskets is all.
-I’m afraid to ask about Friday.
--Don’t be! I take it off. Friday begins a long weekend.
A prolonged Drunk!
-Well, you must stop! It’s crazy! And even though you
alternate, the twin monsters are inside you at all times.
Contraries! You can’t hold contraries...!
-Why I’ve held as many as six contraries before breakfast!
-That’s Alice in Wonderland!
-Isn’t everything?
Labels: Alice in Wonderland, alternate, Conservative, extremist, guillotine, liberal, weekend
Monday, February 16, 2015
Space Talk
The Linguist Returns From Planet RahSTELaphon
-What's their language like?
-Some surprising parallels.
-We can learn it?
-Average American, one year: Be able
to talk like a six-grader there.
-Not bad! What's the usual subject? Themes?
What do they talk ABOUT?
-Total bullshit!
-No problem then.
Labels: alien language, planet, space travel
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Going Dutch in a
Red State
When Jup and Mitzy got down, they always went to
Trash Alley. This time she got Dutch Boys and Girls.
The Chinese man didn’t have windmills, but girlfriend,
Letz did, she knew.
Jup got National Football League players, sort of. Splotchily
painted, but the jerseys were the approximate color, and
had script identifying the team name.
No ceramic pants, but little erect penises.
“Cute, but they’ll break off if you play with them,” warned
Mitzy.
“I’m not gonna play with their peckers!”
“I mean just play generally. They’re delicate.”
He had another plan, which he told her. It inspired her.
So, for each game that year, he paired the figures.
Thus Bronco versus Raiders, as an example. Then,
photographed them with his phone camera. Sixteen
games, sixteen pictures that week.
When the season opened, she brought along the
actual Dutch figures. Girlfriend Letz, her own little
windmills and wagons and such. They sat in a booth
with other women at Mad Martha’s, and played the way
they did as girls.
On the way back from the men’s room, Jip told them
“Don’t get too rough now!”
Then he returned to his gang watching the contest
on the biggest screen in the place.
Wills and Hester always came late, but this time
she brought the ceramic food she had fashioned.
She got a hearty Dutch welcome. “Let’s eat the
sausages first!” gushed Emily Hertzmeuller.
Meantime, the men tapped their phones together ritually,
and thus received the obscene schedule of Jup’s.
Men, their wives and girlfriends, appreciated him and Mitzy
further livening up their gameday.
Mad Martha in the kitchen yelled to Gypsy Joe at the bar
that they were a class act!
Some of the newer lady friends were tomboys and wouldn’t
play with the women, but roared alongside the men.
“It takes all kinds,” Jup reminded the very conservative
Ralph Betz, nicknamed Reagan.
Labels: child play, Dutch, female bonding, football, male bonding, Reagan, relationships, segregating by sex, sex roles, trash
Saturday, February 14, 2015
The Good Republican
Lies?
Rhetorical exaggerations I admit to.
And flourishes. Old-School there, I’m afraid.
You point especially to my Labor Day speech.
And scathingly see me as Republican, of course,
thus avowed enemy of the working person.
Some are, and very clearly. Ask them, they’ll
tell you. They love to! Wallow in their own
poisonous spit!
And you claim that we’ve destroyed unions?
Lots of factors have militated against unions,
though we’ve been the most important.
But I’m, individually, very Pro-Labor. I believe the
present dynamic is sick, and toxic to the country.
I believe, mostly, in a strong safety net.
The billionaire supplies his own, hedging his bets.
The worker bets his labor, and must be allowed to
hedge also.
Why haven’t you heard this before?
A hand clamps my mouth, known as Party.
If they turn off the cash spigot, I lose.
And, as the wilfully naive Supreme Court has
allowed obscene amounts, I can’t fall behind.
Hey! Everybody’s job contains terrible contradictions
and anomalies. Why should mine be different?
They’ll smear me RINO?
They can do much worse!
“Things are in the saddle, and ride mankind.” ?
And some horrible, dreadful, degrading things they are!
Why don’t you hear more from me? Why don’t I take
more of a stand?
Politics is incremental. And the parties have even blatantly
switched in history. If we live long enough, we’ll see
Republicans as the liberal party, and Democrats as the
stick-in-the-mud, and thoroughly despicable, Conservatives.
When I can fight, I will. When I can’t, I’ll talk the crap they wish.
A sort of partial and quite unsatisfactory answer?
That’s me. And you. And everybody.
Hey! They hanged Nathan Hale! “My only regret is that I have
but one life to give to my country.” Tremendous!
But he wasn’t always that Nathan Hale.
Labels: anti-labor, Conservative, Democrat, Emerson, Labor, Labor Day, liberal, realpolitic, Republican, Safety Net
Friday, February 13, 2015
Three Archetypal Women
Doc Mac, Noggo the reader, Slice, deli guy
-Bitsy is a Fatal Woman.
She’s killed one man,
and ruined seven...
and counting.
-Like Circe, she turns
men into swine!
-What’s hard about that?
...
The Easy Game
At the athletic club we chatted
about a certain total cuteness.
Shorty overheard, warning
“Stay a hundred miles away!
Pure Poison! Guy over in
Fletcher killed hisself!”
Chubby, Maroon, and I threw
towels at him. He was supposed
to collect them anyway, this
Crabapple Jones in everything!
Maroon remarked, "Pure Poison,
hey? Well, who's pure in everything?
We're all amalgams."
Not in her case. A year later she
had gone through each, our
nerves shot.
We invited a Shaman, Paint Horse
of the Waluta Tribe, to come to
Chubby's house.
Must return at least twice more:
“Bad Woman Magic!”
“That’s ambiguous!” Maroon has said.
“And with his strange intonations, you
can’t pin it down.”
“Give him a break! He’s trying to get
us right with the Spirit World.” -Chubs.
“I’ll settle for this shattering one!”
...
A Certain Kind of Club
Come on, Mick! You act as if I’m
killing you!
Mick?
Mick!
Is Doctor Fessbinder in the club?
Labels: cute, Fatal Woman, friendship, relationship, sex, sex club, Shaman, Spirit World
Thursday, February 12, 2015
The Art of Legislating
-Well, for the ten thousandth time, the devil
is in the details.
-We’re the devils!
-Don’t get theological on me! Our fellows
rely on us to hammer out a deal.
-Just speaking to you is sacrilege, according
to a good many of my voters.
-Mine too, and we will rape their purity
once again this night.
-You’re a Catholic: you’ve got Confession.
I’ve just got elevated thought.
-Well, hold it down so we can talk.
-And as grimy as it all proves, our better angels
will drift in when we’re exhausted.
-I think we should belay the holy or infernal
imagery. We’re...sleazy car dealers in a seedy
part of town.
-My battered Ford and a thousand for your Chevvie!
-When we shake hands on that, we lift the neighborhood.
Labels: Art of Compromise, Catholic, compromise, Confession, core voter, devil, Devil in details, ideological purity, political purity, rape, theology.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Women today are calling each other sluts
in a friendly manner. Linguists can tell us how
some language develops like this.
Thus, anyway, the word slut loses it shaming aspect.
Not a worry.
The Despicables will coin another.
Labels: class, condescension, custom, gossip, language, linguist, morality, mores, shame, slut, slut shaming
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
Neocon Heaven
or Under God
Since we were fighting in nearly all the known countries,
the newly-elected Democrats re-instituted the Draft.
Chubbie, Ruck, and I turned in our draft cards month later
as a protest. The only official spot in town, Sheriff's.
He came to my house later while we were watching the Falcons.
Accompanied by deputies, Legion guys, and some layabouts
from Mixxy’s Paradise Lounge.
“As I see it, you take these back, One. Or we beat the shit
outa you, Two.”
One.
Labels: American Legion, draft, law enforcement, neocon, Sheriff, threat, war, wars
Monday, February 09, 2015
Gay Ranchero Eggs
A Fragment Expressing Attitudes
Uncle Mario, Larkie delivering Tastycakes, and Rocco.
Minnie’s Ranch Luncheonette.
ROCCO
When he came out, his wife didn’t like it one
little bit.
LARKIE
Why? Was it her turn?
MARIO
Disgusting!
ROCCO
I’m quitting! Larkie gets all the good lines.
LARKIE
My day!
MARIO
I liked it better when everything was a deep, dark secret. People weren’t such pains in the ass!
ROCCO
That’s too superficial and ego-centered! Give us the
intricate psychoanalysis your advanced years are
supposed to enable you to puke out.
MARIO
Fuck you! I never did like you! I told my sister...!
LARKIE
Family! I love Family!
ROCCO
Join ours! No requirements.
LARKIE
Can I be gay?
MARIO
No!
ROCCO
Only if you shoot video. If we can teach Uncle Mario, here, to operate a VCR, he might learn something yet.
MARIO
I’m gonna bring you up to the Family, fuckin Rocco! Disrespectful little...!
LARKIE
I love Family!
---
Rocco’s South Philadelphia is unafraid of modern topics. Since there are none. Search him atop this page for further idiotic history.
Labels: Family, gay, Rocco, South Philadelphia, Tastycakes, VCR, video, Western
Sunday, February 08, 2015
Trois
A Short Time
Lots of frenetic activity of all sorts,
and weakly creative lying.
Cynthia told Bart: “Why don’t we
just stop?”
And they did.
///
Games
So, who'da thought?
JJ -- a pallid flower with a soft way
and a wit to match. Once just missed
the Olympics in Softball. Catcher,
and quiet Generalissima.
Q -- her husband, the sort you'd call on
if a gate broke away from rusty hinges.
MT -- a man usually playing the machines
at their club...with some fire.
---
Well, now, JJ a Passion Flower?
Come ON!
MT was eventually transferred to a far city.
Asked to join him, JJ laughed.
The modern way seemed to tell your husband,
so she did. The lover, inept, she confessed,
proved an asshole-idiot altogether, and with
sixth grade conversation skills.
He refused to believe it, but then turned cold.
Counseling? Of course!
The practitioner, a professional woman, very
nearly curt.
She couldn't bring Q to talk much, but JJ
approved the apparent direction of things.
It was evolving, alongside other troubles
being revealed, to being mostly his fault.
Though she knew the affair, at least, was
entirely hers--and embarked on with a silly
sense of experimentation--she, naturally,
went along with the counselor.
Husband complained he was being ganged
up on, but started admitting minor deficiencies.
She knew more of the burden would pass to her
in subsequent appointments, so tried bringing
the tight counselor close to tears.
It worked every third session or so.
A good average in Softball, reasoned this pallid flower.
///
Max and Dilly in Casual Conversation
re a Breakup of Friends
-An affair is a cry for help, of course. Much is wrong and must be talked out, however painful
-You got that last part right!
-But, there is a bottom line, and one person is being
betrayed.
-Come ON!
-Horribly so!
-Maxy, you’re so fuckin old-fashioned!
Labels: affair, betrayal, counseling, old-fashioned, relationship, sex
Saturday, February 07, 2015
The Rare Comedians of Rapid Falls
-The dentist drilled for decay as I said.
Down deep in my head!
-You usually speak in deathless prose.
But, exquisite poetry?
-A mere bagatelle.
-But, there’s a fly in your universal Jello.
-Howso?
-Wouldn’t GET decay if you brushed and flossed
assiduously.
-I’m as big an assiduous as the next guy!
-And you take days off from the process to inhale hangover fumes.
-Not many!
-Okay, so you’re a top-flight brusher and flosser, really!
The Lady Dentists will feature you at their convention.
In a brilliant glass case. Revolving.
-Me or the case?
-Both, in opposite directions.
-Christ! Vertigo!
-That’s for another kind of convention. Or film.
-And when they turn the lights out, do I hafta stay
in the case?
-Nein! They have their will of you then!
-Jesus! Can one get Viagra over the counter?
-Never you! The community must be protected.
-Be quiet while I’m practicing revolving.
-Fine! I’m making out the card for your display.
-Master Flosser?
-Asshole.
-All great men get hurt. But...should I wave? Thusly?
-Like the Pope saying “Get those fuckin peasants
off the grass!”
-No! More modesty-honesty. See? I can fake that best.
-People will little remember what we say here.
-That’s because they got sense.
Labels: brush, comedian, comedy, convention, dentist, floss, poetry, Pope, prose, Viagra
Friday, February 06, 2015
The Collection
PATIENT
Explosive diarrhea and vomiting.
Followed by an obsessive desire
to sing the Candyman song.
PHYSICIAN
You're in luck! Your insurance
company just issued a code for
all of that.
PATIENT
Great! Otherwise this visit'd cost
me a thousand.
PHYSICIAN
Give or take.
PATIENT
Just out of curiosity, is there a Medicare
code too?
PHYSICIAN
Who gives a shit about those leeches?
They’re at Death's Door anyhow.
PATIENT
Nice collection of ceramic elephants you
got here.
PHYSICIAN
Make the office homey.
Labels: insurance, insurance codes, medical insurance, medicare, Republican
Thursday, February 05, 2015
The Attractions of Stupid
-Grandpa, is everybody in Stupid, stupid?
-No, Haspel, we got mad at each other once
upon a time, and some people started a new town.
They said a modern one, not fuddy-duddy.
-Fud...?
-Old.
-Like you?
-Precisely.
-Mommy name old!
-Isolde? A pretty name, Haspel!
When the child left, his pockets stuffed with
cookies, the newlyweds swept in. Damn near
40, both, he mused, and acting like kids.
His other daughter, Mauve, spoke first. "Well, we're
moving to Stupid!"
"Yeah, everything's new there!"
"Daddy calls it Flashtrash," laughed Mauve.
"Then you'd love our new apartment. All the latest!
Furnished! We even got to pick the colors of the
appliances and bathroom!"
"So we picked mauve, of course! We even have a mauve
bidet!" He loved her the less for this last degrading idea.
"Is there even a bidet in this ancient burg?" hubby inquired.
"Of course, my Simple Love. To cool the Ahhhfter Dinner Wine!"
"Ah! Ahhhfter Dinner wine! Separates us from the savages!"
They went on in this Saturday Night Live manner, Grandpa
merely smiling. After some moments, they turned serious,
started using Stupid Borough’s proper name...after some
Rock 'n Roll chanteuse.
The couple leaves, and he finally realizes he has failed
with Mauve. The idiot was never his responsibility.
He pours an after-dinner wine. Not the accepted time,
but why not be daring?
Labels: bidet, Conservative, daughter, flash, fuddy-duddy, marriage, Rock 'n Roll, town, wine
Wednesday, February 04, 2015
That Toddling Town
-Doctors give it a big long name, but she's...soluble.
-Jeez! Like Wicked Witch of the West that Dorothy
flunged the bucket on?
-Same. She'll melt too.
-Who was the other one, that nice witch, anyhow?
-Billie Burke.
-Sounds like ballplayer. Anyway, should be a law against being that nice.
-Still hunting one up like that?
-Nope, terrified of the entire sex.
-With the exception of our own biodegradable doll!
-What'll we do? And I thought you said soluble.
-Both. Take her to Wrigley and her beloved Cubbies tonight!
I got a huge NASCAR umbrella if it rains.
-But, if a real gully-washer?
-With my arthritis, I crawl, but you can take her
in your arms and run! How come you can still run?
Every symptom in the Medical Dictionary, and you
run like the wind!
-I don't know, but I've taken a lot of shekels from
the neighborhood kids in bets.
-Ever really compete anymore?
-Couple weeks ago in Skokie. Driving though
and here's a 10-K!
-Win your age group?
-Won the whole damn thing! Was on TV and
everything!
-I only watch the weather-panic channels.
-Storm of the Century! Blizzard of the
Century! Heat of the...!
-Knock it off! Don't be as lavish as they are!
-Jeez! Biodegradable! Soluble!
-Comes to us all. If we hafta flee, we'll
meet at Murphs. Order for me before I
creak through the door.
-Drink our troubles away?
-Toast all the gods besetting us!
-That buys time.
-That's all we want.
Labels: Baseball, biodegradable, Chicago, Cubs, NASCAR, Skokie, soluble, Wrigley Field
Tuesday, February 03, 2015
Pretty in Rodgau
Annika’s love for Dieter
was shaky, and not helped
by his allegedly undying one.
Then he sobbed he couldn't live
without her!
Made things worse, but she didn't
know what to do.
A truck full of Christmas trees
slid into his one-man optical
sales office.
His mother gave her a battered
microscope, and she looked at
some dirt.
She often replays his death during
slack times at the factory, waiting for
the Turkish dwarf to bring her work.
Labels: Frankfurt, German, Munich, relationship, Rodgau, Romance, Turk, unrequited love
Monday, February 02, 2015
The Death of the Dancing Horse
saddened Murtha. When Luna dropped by after
the Women's Convention, he told her.
"Well, don't wallow! Find out everything about him.
His mother and dad, the early training. More you
know, better you feel. Too bad you're not a
woman: We're learning to be afraid of nothing!
But, let me do it for you! Faster. She sat at the
computer. After a few seconds, Luna snapped
"You idiot! Walter didn't die, it was his 'amusing'
horse, Rory. All performers are high-pitched so
they need a...”
“I feel better! Nothing against...”
“Rory? A great card! Well, he's in Horse Laugh
Heaven, and you're still a moron!” she laughed.
A horse laugh, really. It seeped into the bricks
and was twisted out at night by the cold.
He frequently awoke to hear it.
Oddly, when they lived together, he never woke
up at night for any reason. Her daylight antics
exhausted him.
His own computer search, after she left, led him to
The Horse Entertainment Network. But that
ghosted out on the screen, and a banner blinked
red to tell him to press the red button on his
cable remote to attain this HEN.
He did, but had to okay an eight dollar a month surcharge.
Unfortunately, what he got concerned a lot of chickens!
But then, Bill Haspell came on and explained they thought
the chickens would be clever branding, a la HEN! He apologized
for the glitch and introduced the new branding, featuring,
of course, horses.
Murtha had then to endure Horses of Australia,
however the extraordinary aerial views to begin with.
But then, blessedly, World Horse News and the lead
story of training another ‘card’ to replace the departed Rory.
The search process had been complicated during his illness,
for most horses with humor were also cynical and lazy.
Popped up again Bill Haspell, offering T-Shirts convered
with hens. Seven dollars each, three for Twenty, but only
available in XXXXXLarge.
Bought three for sleeping–-Murtha liked roomy comfort there.
Sarcastic Luna would never see them in this new scheme
of things. She had encouraged him to get another girlfriend,
that he'd be doing her a favor, that she’d never ever be
jealous, etc. He knew better.
Labels: Cable, dancing horse, girlfriend, horse, jealousy, relationship
Sunday, February 01, 2015
Sentimental. Yet loud!
The dating questionnaire said nothing
about voice. And Rose was loud.
And her clothes too. The waiter shot
them a miffed glance, as if Cliff should
tone her down. The little rowhouse
restaurant had low ceilings.
He did get her to skip dessert.
“That's fine. I like talking better.”
She did that, while they walked along
the river.
He composed the usual email thanking
her, wishing her luck in her search.
But, couldn't hit the send button.
She's so so beautiful, he reasoned. Maybe I
could get her to...
He couldn't. "You're the Quiet Man, and I'm
Maureen O'Hara!" asserts she the next time.
But this particular redhead ratchets things up
a couple of decibels! he thought.
“Say it!” she intuited. “I'm loud! Mother and Dad
begged for mercy!”
“You're like Ethel Merman. Belting it out to the
back rows! But I’m in the front one. See little
ole me?” he waved.
“In...our own quiet times, should we arrive there,
you won't find me so.”
And he didn't.
Shortening things up: They eventually move in
together. Sparkling condo in the Old Rope Factory
Building. Jack Early, an old school chum, rents it
to him. “3C is my best unit. I'm 3D above you, and
if I killed an elephant, you wouldn't hear it!”
“Good, my Rose can get, uh, boisterous.”
A couple of months later, in the old freight
elevator that Jack retained for its grungy
feeling: "Do you hear anything from us?”
"Well, your Rose effectively defeated the
expensive insulation. But, I'm kidding,
of course. There's just a...sort of vibration.”
“Let me apologize.”
“Don't! It's most pleasant. And moreso since
I’ve met her a few times. She envelops! And I
mean that in a good way. It's like...I don't know...
love or something."
"Gonna steal her away from me?"
"Listen! Let me tell you the effect this woman
has had on me. My sister has tried fixing me up for
a year or so and I always say no. But not this time!"
Jenny proves as strident as Rose, and when they
eventually have them in for drinks, the men
smoke Cuban cigars on the balcony while the
women...well it resembles shouting.
"Wanna bet on the winner?" he asks Jack Early.
"I don't hafta. It's both of us!"
Labels: compatibility, dating, loud, matchmaking, quiet, relationship
