Archive for the And now the snorting starts Category
MUNCIE, Indiana – Pop sensation Lil Wayne’s recent seizure was not caused by illegal drug use, said Harvey Birdman, Lil Wayne’s attorney and spokesperson.
“My client is not a drug user,” Birdman said at a press conference he called for the purpose of “clearing the air” about Lil Wayne’s seizure. “He is allergic to wheat,” Birdman explained.
Birdman ended the conference with a warning about the perils of food allergies.
So I am sitting on the couch in my family room watching my son watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, when I comment on the recent news articles revealing that former POTUS George Herbert Walker Bush is an accomplished painter with a penchant for painting himself in the nude.
“You mean he stood there looking at himself in a mirror?” My son asked.
“Yes, I suppose he did,” I responded.
After a short silence my son opined:
“Well, that makes sense.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Okay, let’s say you are a former conservative Republican President who likes to paint nudes,” my son says.
“Okay,” I respond. “let’s say that.”
“Well, then your possibilities are limited,” my son concludes.
“How so?” I ask.
“Have you seen Barbara Bush?” my son asks.
“Oh,” I said, granting the point.
I found out later that it is was recently revealed that it is George Bush the Younger (the one who started two long wars but didn’t pay for them and very nearly brought down the global economy), not George Bush the Elder (the one who scoffed at his critics’ complaints that he lacked foresight by referring to it as “that vision thing”) who painted and presumably still paints himself nude.
I didn’t inform my son of my error. I value any exercise in critical thinking and, based on even invalid data his conclusion was admirable.
And it is very likely that the younger Bush paints himself nude because his daddy did it, too, and the younger Bush is competing with him artistically.
The following photo is of a painting obtained by hackers of the younger Bush’s painting efforts. It is a bit creepy because it is clearly derived from a photograph, which means George has a collaborator who takes pictures of him in the nude:
The elder Bush was a better president (he fought Gulf War I, neutralized Saddam Hussein without creating a quagmire the US could not exit from). The odds are the elder Bush is a better painter.
By Prof. Trip “Trip” Tripperson-Johnson
The recent massacre of schoolchildren by an insane gunwielding lunatic has shocked the world. People everywhere are wondering what to do. They asked themselves if there is anything they actually can do.
Before people go off half cocked and do something they will regret – and I am talking about passing laws that violate every American’s God-given right to possess and use firearms – I ask that everyone step back and look at this rationally. There is no need to take guns away from anyone to solve this problem. There is a simple solution to what happened in Connecticut, a solution that does not require repressive and unconstitutional gun control legislation on either the state or the federal level.
1st, let us focus on the problem. The problem is not guns. Guns don’t kill schoolchildren. People with guns kill schoolchildren. We need to focus on who it was who killed those children in Connecticut. Let me just say right out: it was a nut case that killed those kids. A lunatic. 6 pounds of crazy in a 5 pound bag.
The average red-blooded American gun owner is not crazy. He or she (probably he) is a responsible, God-fearing Republican who would never take a gun into a school and shoot anyone, except perhaps if his or her (probably his) constitutional rights to bear arms was threatened.
The point is we all agree that crazy people should not have guns. But we also agree that it’s impossible to keep guns out of the hands of crazy people. To insist that any kind of “standards” would infringe on the rights of responsible, God-fearing Republican Americans to buy, own and use guns.
The solution, as I said, is simple. If we want to stop lunatics from taking guns into schools and killing a lot of kids, then we should make sure that every American schoolchild is armed.
If those children in that school had been packing heat – and had been trained in the use of those firearms – that lunatic would’ve gotten off maybe 5 rounds before one of those deadeye tots took them out.
This solution works for everybody. Increased gun sales pumps money into the economy. Possessing firearms will improve the self-esteem of any child, especially little girls.
So instead of using this horrible massacre of schoolchildren as an excuse to pass liberal, socialist, communist laws to restrict the constitutional right to bear arms, let’s sell the problem and uphold the Constitution by passing laws that allow us – heck, require us – to arm our children.
Trip Tripperson-Johnson is an adjunct professor of Biblical Studies and Infomercial Science at Cal Poly Needles in California. He is the author of the acclaimed essay “ Why Slavery was Good for Black People” published in the Elders of Zion Law Journal.
If you’re like me – and I know you are – then you love only one thing more than bassoon music, and that one thing is Lady Gaga.
Now, for the first time, you need not imagine the rapture of both of your greatest loves, your greatest joys, combined – you can experience it for yourself in the Real.
One of the hallmarks of modern journalism is the growing proliferation ofhstupid news./ Especiallyhon the internet./
Recently in Texas a train hit a float in a parade honoring wounded/disabled war veterans. Some of the disabled veterans on that parade float were killed in the accident.
Here is a follow-up story:
Well, that is a huge relief. If the float was rented, those vets might have lost their deposit – and what a tragedy that might have been.
[Since Barak Obama's surprise and seemingly inexplicable re-election, Republican pundits have been struggling to figure out what went so horribly wrong. They have considered multiple explanations, most of which focus on blaming Karl Rove for persuading them to declare war on women, minorities, immigrants, homosexuals and the science. There is a consensus, however, that the true culprit responsible for Barak Obama's re-election is bad weather - aka Hurricane Sandy. God - the Supreme Being and Creator of the Universe - agreed to sit down with PEOPLE OF EARTH and discuss this theory.]
PEOPLE OF EARTH: First of all, how would you like me to address you?
GOD: Call me Ted.
GOD: Sure. Why not? I like the name Ted. I’m God. I can do what I want. A week ago I was Debbie. What of it?
POE: I was thinking more in the line of “Lord” or “Jehovah.”
GOD: That’s so old fashioned. I suggested Jehovah because the ancient Hebrews had difficulty pronouncing Ted. Or Debbie.
POE: Okay. Well, Ted, let’s cut to the chase: Haley Barbour, who served as Mississippi governor when Hurricane Katrina hit his state, asserted Thursday that “Hurricane Sandy saved Barack Obama’s presidency.” Doesn’t that imply divine intervention to influence the election in Barack Obama’s favor?
GOD: I see what you are getting at: I’m God, I make storms, so I must have sent that hurricane to break Mitt Romney’s momentum, allow Obama to appear presidential, and swing the election to an Obama victory. Is that it?
POE: That is sort of what the Republican’s are arguing.
GOD: Well, then they are a bunch of idiots. Seriously. I could go on and on about everything they did wrong. I mean, come on, it doesn’t take a supreme being to notice how important women and latinos are to any candidate’s election prospects. But the Republicans declared war on everyone who wasn’t an uneducated white male – and then expected women and blacks and latinos and homosexuals and immigrants and students to vote for them. What a bunch of maroons.
POE: So you are denying responsibility for Sandy?
GOD: Not in the least. I made that. I mean, do you have any idea how many unbelievably unlikely variables had to be in play to get that storm to hit as hard as it did, where it did, when it did? That’s Divine Intervention, baby. That was all me. But I didn’t do it to help Obama win re-election. Contrary to what you are being told by guys who claim to talk to me, I do not get involved in elections or wars or anything like that. Hell, the thing that annoys me most is when some stupid fuck of a high school football quarterback says that he owes a recent victory to me. I had nothing to do with winning a football game. I mean, come on, I made the universe. Do you really think I am going to say “hmmmm, I want the Blue Devils to win and the Honkers to lose.” Are you kidding? Like I care.
POE: So you are admitting responsibility for Hurricane Sandy?
GOD: Of course I am. I am responsible for the volcanic eruption that wiped out the Minoan civilization. I am responsible for the earthquake that leveled Lisbon in 1755 and all but destroyed Haiti in 2010. Those are my works. So was Sandy. But I didn’t send Sandy to help Obama. I sent Sandy to punish the US east coast. New York City in particular. I hate that Mayor Bloomberg. He banned big soft drinks.
POE: You sent Sandy because you dislike Mayor Bloomberg?
GOD: Do I need a better reason?
POE: I guess not.
GOD: But the important point to take away from all of this, other than apparent divine arbitrary and capricious behavior, is that Republicans are fooling themselves if they think Sandy got Obama elected. Republican stupidity got Obama re-elected. I had nothing to do with it. Sandy had nothing to do with it. I mean, come on, they selected Mitt Romney to challenge Obama, not Chris Christie or Jeb Bush or even Jim Huntsman. Then they actively and vigorously alienated the voters they needed to win. What were they thinking? I’ll tell you – they weren’t thinking. They were living in a dream world where history from 1950 to the present didn’t happen. They were trying to wish it all away back to the good old days when women, minorities and homosexuals knew their place. They did this to themselves, and their attempts to blame anyone other than themselves and anything other than their stupid strategy and tactics only proves how pathetic they are and is ultimate proof that they don’t deserve to hold the reins of power.
POE: Well said.
GOD: Of course it was well said, you idiot. I’m Ted.
The following essay contains factual statements that are contrary to the world view of neo-conservatives who supported Mitt Romney’s campaign for president of the United States. The introduction of these facts into the neo-conservative mind could result in neurological disruption possibly including but not limited to cranial explosion. If you are a neo-conservative who supported Romney’s presidential candidacy, please exercise caution when reading this essay, including but not limited to reading this essay in private or in a location separate from other people who could be injured when your head explodes.
My fellow Republicans, I share your dismay and depression. You watched the returns coming in as the champagne chilled. You were utterly certain that Romney would not just win, but would win big. You were utterly certain that the bad dream that was and is Obama was finally over.
As the night progressed, you kept the faith. You denied the results, you got angry at those who suggested the truth. You simply could not accept the reality of what was happening and agreed with Fox reporter Ed Henry, reporting from Obama headquarters, as he observed: “The crowd is near pandemonium now, despite the fact that unemployment is hovering near 8 percent.”
But Obama won. And now, in the cold light of day, we ask ourselves why. We ask ourselves how this could happen? Every effort was made to assure a different result.
We had a network (Fox)hon our side,/faithfully spinning every single event to support Romney and to demonize Obama.
We hadhagressive voter suppression efforts/in every swing state controlled by a Republican legislature.
Wehblocked every attempt Obama made/to fix the economy he inherited, and successfully blamed him for not fixing it.
Wehdenied Obama any meaningful achievement/as president, denying him any record to run on – leaving the economy as the only real issue of any importance for the voters to consider.
Wehdemonized/his only accomplishment – the only one we let him have – ash“Obamacare.”/
We created a grand, unstoppable coalition – a visible army – of uneducated racists, misogynists, homophobes, false
Christians,/andhpeople who don’t trust “science.”/ And did I mention homophobes?/Hatred for homosexuals really, really energizes and unites the GOP lunatic fringe.
But despite all of this and more, we still lost. And now, as we drink our morning coffee (tea is for liberal pussies) we struggle with figuring out why this happened. And, as is our nature, we will look for someone to blame.
Don’t bother. I will tell you why we lost. We lost because we tried to sell something to the American people that ultimately could not be sold. We tried to tell the American people that a dumb guy was a smart guy. We tried to sell the American people horse shit by dressing it up as a nutritious energy bar. But the American political process couldn’t keep people far enough away to prevent them from noticing the smell.
The central message we sent to the American people is that Mitt Romney was a smart guy who used his smarts to get rich, and that, as president, he would use his smarts to make us all rich, too.
Don’t get me wrong – that is one slick and appealing central message. Who doesn’t want to be rich? We all do. And we are willing to believe that some guy who is rich can whisper the secret into our ear and tell us how to be rich, too. I would vote for anyone who I truly believed knew the secret of making lots of money and, if I voted for them, would tell me how they did it so I could do it, too.
But that whole sales pitch depends on me also believing that they guy with the secret is smart. If I find out he isn’t all that smart – and is, in fact, sort of stupid – then the whole thing falls apart.
That’s what happened with Mitt. As time went by, evidence began to mount that Mitt wasn’t really all that smart. Mostly, he said a lot of stupid things. For example:
He made incoherent statements abouthwhy he loves America/- I mean, trulyhincoherent.g
He said that 49 percent of the American people are leeches he doesn’t care about.
He said that “corporations are people, my friend.”
He complained that the windows in passenger jetshcouldn’t open/to allow fresh air in.
He said he loves to fire people.
He said he loves the State of Michigan because “the trees are exactly the right height.” h(WTF?)/
On the day of the election he said that electing him would “make a better tomorrow, tomorrow.” h(WTF?)/
Only a really stupid person would say any of this stuff. You can try to explain it away, the the more you do, the more stupid it sounds. It made us wonder what he would say to Putin when he didn’t have a script to read written by smarter people Romney hired to write stuff for him to say.
The American people elected a stupid president before. Remember George W. Bush? I distinctly remember voting for him because I was firmly convinced that he wasn’t all that smart and therefore couldn’t do much harm if elected. That’s why he got elected. Think back and you will remember all the dumb things he did and said during his election campaign and still beat Al Gore, the smart guy who we didn’t trust and feared would change too many things if he got elected.
Boy, were we wrong. A stupid president can do a whole lot of harm – as George W. Bush proved. It was his stupidity that got us into two wars we couldn’t afford and paid for with money we borrowed from China. It was his stupidity that lead to the economic crash that took place between 2007 and 2009 that almost took out the whole world. So we are finished with stupid presidents.
That’s why Obama won and Romney lost. We don’t like Obama. Seriously. We don’t like him. We have lots of reasons, ranging from simple things like racism to the more subtle and complex reasoning that forces us to conclude that he hasn’t really handled the presidency very well. But we voted for him anyway because he is smarter than Romney, and that means he has the best chance of not making the kinds of stupid mistakes George W. Bush made that fucked everything up in the first place.
And that’s why Obama won. The GOP tried to sell us this Romney:
But, as the campaign progressed, this is the Romney we saw and got to know:
And that’s why Obama won and Romney lost. The American people picked a bad, but smart president over an undoubtedly stupid one.
And if the GOP doesn’t realize this, it will be the end of the Republican Party.
Don’t say I didn’thwarn you./
It is that spooky time of year again, and that means more Grim Fairy Tales. This next one was pulled from the archives of the now defunct but fondly remembered Journalspace that, like a ghost, was there one minute, and then vanished the next.
THE ZOMBIE KITTEN
Once upon a time there was a zombie kitten.
The story of how she became a zombie is long and complicated and would be a huge waste of time to tell.
All you need to know is that she was a kitten who died and came back to life as a zombie.
Which meant she was very sad. No children wanted to pet or cuddle her. They would always run in abject terror when they saw her.
You see, being a zombie meant she had an insatiable desire to kill other creatures and eat their brains. To be honest, it didn’t cause any trouble as long as she was hunting birds and rodents and eating their brains. But it didn’t stop with birds and rodents. And that really prevented her from becoming a pet that is loved. Which is all she wanted. She just wanted to be loved.
She tried everything to find a family to adopt her. She would run into houses when the door opened. She would mew piteously in the rain. She spent a small fortune and used a lot of favors to put up posters showing her picture with the words “lost kitten” in the hopes that someone would see her and take her in while her true owners were located. She hoped some nice family would just fall in love with her and want to keep her.
These tactics worked once or twice. But the whole brain-eating thing always ended up ruining everything.
One rainy night, some family she was haunting finally had enough of her running into their house when the door was open and mewing piteously in the rain. They tricked her into a box, baited with some cow brains, and took her to the Animal Shelter where they tossed her unceremoniously into the night drop box.
The shelter staff didn’t know what to do with her. It soon became evident that she was a zombie kitten and she was put in a cage all alone. The shelter staff knew no one would claim her and that no one coming in to adopt a pet would want a pet that would eventually attack them and try to eat their brains. So they had to kill her, but how do you kill one of the Undead? No one at the shelter was willing or ready to shoot that zombie kitten in the head.
Eventually they decided to cremate her along with a load of gassed, unwanted, unclaimed, unloved animals. The shelter staff didn’t know if this would work, but they figured it was worth a try.
Then – on the day the zombie kitten was scheduled for cremation – in walked a man and a woman and their daughter. They were a zombie family looking for a pet. Ordinarily, zombies are not allowed to adopt children or pets – for obvious reasons – but the shelter made an exception and let the zombie family adopt the zombie kitten.
It was a win-win solution for all concerned.
MORAL OF THE STORY: You never know.
If you haven’t done so yet, visit http://www.marriedtothesea.com. No matter what your lot in life is, Married to the Sea can only make it better.
BUKRA, Montana – The Obama administration announced today that it will be forcing an openly racist federal judge to retire or be fired.
“Man, I hate negroes,” said Judge Richard Cebull after learning about the President’s decision to replace him. “They are SO sensitive.”
The email Judge Cebull circulated was sent to him by his openly racist brother, Jeb. Judge Cebull forwarded the email on to his friends and family. The email told a joke describing the President’s mother as a woman likely to have sex with dogs because she was willing to have sex with the President’s African father.
“Technically speaking it wasn’t a racist joke because Judge Cebull was making fun of the President’s mother, a white woman,” said Trip Henderson, a white supremacist and an elected member of the Montana State Senate. “I am widely considered an expert on racist jokes – a connaisseur of racial humor, if you will,” Henderson said. “In my racist expert opinion, Judge Cebull’s joke was only semi racist and, if I were judging his joke I would give it a two on a scale of zero to ten with zero being awful and ten being as good as a racist joke can get. Like the one I told last night in church.”
Judge Cebull announced that he would semi-retire from the bench. “I will still be trying cases, but not if any of the parties are black. Or hispanic. Or asian. I don’t like them either. Or A-rabs. I hates me some A-rabs. Tent heads. Sand niggers. But it’s business as usual for everyone else.”
First, a joke:
Question: What are a red neck’s most common last words?
Answer: ”Hey, y’all, watch this!”
CRACKERBURG, Florida – The winner of a roach-eating contest in South Florida died shortly after downing dozens of the live bugs as well as worms, authorities said Monday.
Cooter Renfield ate 600 German cockroaches, 300 Madagaskar hissing cockroaches, 200 Hercules Beetles, 50 crickets and an untold number of earth and meal worms before mysteriously collapsing. He was pronounced dead an hour later at Crackerburg General Hospital.
“At least he died doing what he loved most,” said his mother, Charlene Renfield.
“That boy just loved eating bugs,” said Ethel Renfield, Cooter’s grandmother. ”Even when he was a baby he was always crawling around looking for bugs to eat. Maybe he spent a bit too much time with his grandfather. I was always hollering ‘R.M.’ – that was my husband’s name, R.M., ‘R.M,’ I would say ‘you stop that boy from eating bugs.’ But R.M. never did. Truth be told, R.M. loved him some bugs, too.”
R.M. Renfield made his name in the import business during the 1930′s before settling in Crackerville.
MUNCIE – Jack Welch, founder and former CEO of General Electric, Romney surrogate and de facto spokesman for the Republican Party stated that the statistics showing a slow but steady improvement for the national economy have been fabricated by the Obama administration.
“These are unbelievable job numbers,” Welch tweeted. “Chicago guys will do anything… can’t debate so change the numbers.”
Welch’s sentiment reflects a constant Republican complaint about the U.S. economy. They believe it cannot be improving and must be getting worse.
“These numbers can’t be real,” Welch said. “We did everything we could to ruin the economy. We gave America George Bush and he gave us two wars and huge entitlements that he paid for with money borrowed from China. He drove the deficit up to astronomical levels. Obama inherited an economy that simply could not be fixed, and after he was elected, Republicans in congress did everything they could to stop him from fixing the economy by create jobs. So numbers showing any improvement must be wrong.”
“These statistics show what we all know, and that is that the American economy is finally rising out of the dark hole that the Republicans dug for the nation and that President Obama inherited from George Bush,” said Big Bird, a Public Television celebrity. “Obama had an impossible job to do, but now his policies are working. There is no need to make drastic cuts in public spending, especially funding for Public Television,” Bird said. “So Mitt Romney can go fuck himself.”
During his first Presidential Debate, Republican candidate Mitt Romney refused to say which government programs he would cut, but when pressed he said he would cut funding for Public Television.
This is real.
Here is exactly what Romney said:
When you have a fire in an aircraft, there’s no place to go, exactly, there’s no — and you can’t find any oxygen from outside the aircraft to get in the aircraft, because the windows don’t open. I don’t know why they don’t do that. It’s a real problem. So it’s very dangerous.
This man – who doesn’t know that, if you open a window on an airplane, you and everyone in the aircraft will die – is very likely going to be the next president of the United States.
(Reuters Health) – Organic produce and meat typically isn’t any better for you than conventional varieties when it comes to vitamin and nutrient content, according to a new study from Stanford University sponsored by corporations supporting chemical companies.
“I knew that there or-ganic stuff was a lie,” said Skip Henderson, a morbidly obese registered Republican welfare recipient without health insurance suffering from type 2 diabetes. “It don’t say nothin’ about no or-ganic food in the consitution or the bible,” Henderson added before devouring a triple patty extra cheese cheeseburger topped with bacon, ham and onion rings (described with approval in Leviticus).
“You can pay more for ‘organic’ food at some hippy farmers market, but why do that when it costs less to buy chemically enhanced food at your local supermarket that, due to the magic of preservatives, won’t spoil for years and years and years?” said Dr. Ernst Henderson, a spokesman for Cargil, a corporate food giant that co-sponsored the Stanford Study.
“Organic food is a fraud,” said Henry Henderson, Junior Vice President of Goldman Sachs, an international investment firm with strong ties to the chemical industry that also co-sponsored the Stanford Study. “The study we paid for concluded that there is nothing wrong with eating foods rich in pesticides, preservatives, manufactured sugars, fats and other chemical additives that have been linked to cancer, obesity, diabetes, an increase in infant mortality and a decrease in life expectancy.”
“But here is the important thing to remember,” Henderson added. ”The studies that concluded the chemicals our clients produce and sell at obscene profits, these studies weren’t paid for by the chemical industry or corporations with chemical industry ties, so those studies were unfair, anti-American and probably socialist.”
“Let’s face it,” said Karen Henderson, a spokesperson for the Monsanto Corporation, “people who buy organic food and don’t buy industrially processed foods rich in chemical bonus materials, these people hate capitalism.” Henderson said.
Skip Henderson agreed. “The liberal commies won’t let folks buy super large servings of soda! What happened to freedom? I say it is my right as an American to eat whatever I want as often as I want and as much as I want even if it is bad for me. You can’t make me eat any commie organic food!”
THE SAD GARAGE SALE
Once upon a time in a tiny town named Elko, Nevada, a man named Ted was checking out of the Holiday Inn Express.
Ted was driving from Salt Lake City, Utah to Los Angeles, California because he had a passion for alcohol, tobacco and caffeine, all of which were difficult to procure in Salt Lake City without risking social isolation and spiritual damnation, or at least the popular perception of it.
The drive from Salt Lake City to Los Angeles is a long one, and Ted spent the night in Elko, more or less located half way between the two.
“Where are you off to?” asked the checkout clerk at the front desk as Ted turned in his key.
“Los Angeles,” Ted said.
“Take me,” the checkout clerk said.
Ted smiled and chuckled as he hoped was expected.
“No, seriously,” the checkout clerk said. “Take me. I hate this place and I will do anything to get out. I will pay for gas and sexually satisfy you. What do you say?” clerk asked while making a rude and suggestive gesture with a partially closed fist.
“I – don’t think so,” Ted mumbled.
The check out clerk laughed. “Okay, I understand and I don’t blame you,” he said. “If I was younger, well, maybe I would have had a shot, but I haven’t had any action since my 80th birthday. And you know, Elko isn’t such a bad place. At least it isn’t Battle Mountain.”
“Battle Mountain?” Ted asked.
“Yeah. The next town on the I-80 on the way to Reno. Back in 1983 Battle Mountain was voted the Armpit of the Universe.”
“Okay….” Ted said, walking towards the exit to the parking lot.
“You can’t miss it,” the clerk called after Ted. “They put a big ‘BM’ on the hillside in fifty foot letters in an attempt to publicize the town and create a new image. They even voted for a new town slogan: ‘Home of the biggest BM in the universe.’”
Sure enough, Ted saw the letters “BM” on a hillside as he approached Battle Mountain, and he was overcome by the desire to leave the I-80 and take the business route through Battle Mountain. Ted hoped to see the town slogan (“Home of the biggest BM in the universe”) on a building and further hoped to take a picture that he could then post on his blog.
Ted did not find the town slogan, and he was beginning to wonder if the clerk was pulling his leg, when he saw a sign advertising “GARAGE SALE!”
And, as he was about to leave the Battle Mountain town limits, he saw another sign indicating the garage sale was happening in the driveway of the house he was passing.
Ted stopped and walked up to a little boy sitting on a chair behind an empty table – empty except for one old tennis shoe.
“Where is the garage sale?” Ted asked the little boy.
“You’re looking at it,” the boy said.
“And you’re selling this shoe?”
“Was there other stuff for sale earlier?”
“Nope. Just this shoe.”
“Why just one shoe?”
“It’s all I got to sell.”
“What happened to the other shoe?”
“Dog took it.”
“Look, are you going to buy anything or not?”
“You mean the shoe?”
“Yes, the shoe. Do you see anything else on the table?”
“Why would I want to buy just one shoe?”
“How the fuck should I know? I don’t know your life. Do I look like some kind of psychic? Do I look like I even care why you want to buy this shoe?”
“I didn’t say I wanted to buy that shoe –“
“Yes you did. I heard you say it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes you did.”
“No. I did not.”
“Yes. You did.”
“Okay, look, how much for the shoe?”
“One thousand dollars.”
“Yeah, well, that’s the price. You buying or not?”
“I am not.”
“Then this garage sale is over,” the boy said, taking the shoe off of the table and holding it close. “You just fucked yourself out of owning this shoe. It’s a magic shoe.”
”Yeah, magic. If you buy it, it will grant you three wishes.”
”I don’t believe you.”
“Why not? This is a magic shoe.”
“If it is magic, why haven’t you used it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if it is magic, you would have used it to get out of this town. Its the most depressing place I’ve ever seen. Even a kid like you has to know there is something better somewhere. If that shoe was magic, you would have used it to get out of here.”
“Maybe I used it to wish for something else.”
“None of your business. I’m telling you this is a magic shoe. Are you going to buy it?”
“Does it still cost $1,000?”
“The price has gone up to two thousand dollars. Cash.”
“Okay, then get the hell out of my face.”
“No problem,” Ted said, turning to walk back to his car.
“Mister?” the boy asked.
“If you change your mind, I’ll be here next week.”
“Selling that shoe?”
“Will you be selling anything else?”
“Do you do this every week?”
“Have you ever sold anything?”
“If I did, would I still be here, in the biggest BM in the universe??” the little boy shouted.
Ted didn’t answer. He just got back in his car, drove out of town and back onto the I-80. He stopped for lunch in Reno, Nevada, where he lost all his money playing roulette, betting on 22 black. Ted never made it to LA.
MORAL OF THE STORY: Gambling is bad.
THE SCHNAUZERS OF BOOGERVILLE
Once upon a time on Earth 35916782(a) there was a small town called Boogerville. In this town there lived a most contented family of schnauzers. Poppa worked at the paper mill where he supervised the maintenance crew. It was a humble job but it had lots of responsibility. Poppa was proud of the work he did and proud of the men he supervised.
Momma worked in the family home taking care of her two puppies, Jessica and Max. Jessica, being the older of the two, had a fine sense of responsibility. She loved her little brother very much and did all she could to keep him out of trouble, but somehow trouble always found Max. He was always falling into puddles and chasing cars. But overall, Jessica and Max were good dogs. Momma and Poppa were proud of them and loved them very much.
One day while Poppa was reading his newspaper at breakfast before work, he read that people wanted to change the name of Boogerville to something else. The article said that there was going to be a town meeting that night to decide the issue.
“They want to change the name of Boogerville,” Poppa said to Momma as she scrambled eggs for breakfast.
“For heaven’s sake, why?” Momma asked.
“Some folks are embarrassed by our town name,” Poppa read. “They think it hurts business and depresses property values.
“What are property values, Poppa?” Jessica asked, stirring her Cream of Wheat.
“Well, honey, property values are something grownups talk about when they lack conversational skills.”
“Oh,” Jessica said, sounding a little sad.
“I’m an astronaut!” Max yelled as he ran through the kitchen with a bucket on his head. Max bumped into the wall and fell to the ground, moaning.
“Oh, that boy,” Poppa said, smiling and shaking his head.
“He sure is,” Momma agreed.
“Well,” Poppa said, putting down his newspaper. “I think it is terrible that they want to change the name of Boogerville. Our town has been Boogerville since before the War for Independence! It is wrong to change it because some people don’t like it.
“But what can we do?” Momma asked.
“We can go to the meeting tonight and tell them how we feel about it!” Poppa proclaimed.
So that night after work on the day of the big meeting Poppa dressed in his very best and most expensive suit. Momma put on her prettiest dress. Jessica combed her fur and Max chewed on a pair of slippers.
They walked together, with Poppa in the lead, all the way across town to City Hall where the meeting was taking place. The schnauzer family found seats somewhere in the middle of the auditorium and listened quietly as Councilman Hamphister spoke.
“I am tired of being embarrassed by the name of the town I live in!” he proclaimed. “I think I speak for everyone here when I say that Boogerville is a terrible name for a town! We need a new name.”
“Thank you, Dick,” the Mayor said as Hamphister sat down. “Unless there is someone else who wants to say something, I move that we vote –“
“I have something to say,” Poppa said and his voice rang out through the hall. Everyone watched as Poppa walked up to the podium and, standing on a chair in front of the lectern, began to speak.
“I must oppose any motion to change the name of our town,” Poppa began. “For the last two hundred and seventy-five years this place has been called Boogerville. The Battle of Boogeville was the turning point in the Civil War. Two American Vice Presidents were born in Boogerville. Instead of being embarrassed, we should hold our heads up with pride! The sons of Boogerville fought in the American Revolution, the War of 1812, the Civil War, the Spanish American War, and both World Wars. We fought for freedom in Korea and Vietnam. Now our sons and daughters serve with distinction in the Middle East. Our humble town is a center for business and art. Our schools are the best in the Tri-State area. We say hello to each other on the street and we help each other during times of trouble. We are the children of Boogerville, and I say we hold our heads up high with pride and proclaim to the world “Boogerville is my home!”
Poppa finished, staring defiantly into the crowd. And then, out of the hushed silence, someone shouted “Hey! It’s a talking dog!”
The crowd descended upon Poppa. Momma, Jessica and Max made a run for it, but it was too late. Only Max got away. Poppa, Momma and Jessica were put in a cage and sold to a university where they were subjected to unspeakable medical experiments. Max ended up performing in a traveling carnival as Jojo the Talking Dog Boy. He wasn’t happy, but at least he ate regularly.
MORAL OF THE STORY: If you are different in any significant way, don’t ever let anyone know or you might end up being used for medical experiments.