Item: Area Man Gets Sideswiped by Pedestal, Basically. The Statue of Limitations, long a towering feature at the epicenter of the roundabout in downtown Sue Falls Down And Cries Piteously, Manitoba, vanished sometime last night leaving only a faint rueful fart of an outline of legal poesy in the dry concrete pedestal and a trail of vague stinky innuendo spreading in all directions. There appear to be no witnesses to this enigmatic and mysterious act of public vandalism save for one Shane Link, local ribald raconteur, flaneur and self-described Totipotent Orgasmic Lifeforce, who said he was mindlessly minding his own bizwax at 3am having just described a quasi-semi-circular arc round and round and roundabout the Statue Of Limitations on his way easterly to his just desserts (lime cream pie at Beacon’s All Night Diner and Drinks On The Edge Of Town), behind the wheel of his snappy Chevron Algonquin electric diesel pontoon truck known as Al Paca when, in his words, “I was sideswiped! Preempted, sidetracked, and redirected violently, you might say and would say if you saw what I saw. And as I said, I looked around and there was nothing there! And I mean nada, zero, nix! And that includes the Statue of Limitations!”
Pat Terson, 24/7 technical support for Huffakers Anachronon, LTD has been providing high grade customer support for over 22 years to whoever (or is it whomever?) happens to call. Always willing to help and able to make the customer feel at ease, Pat Terson is the quintessential support person for Huffakers Anachronous. H.A. is a forward-looking company that invests in ambient management time-phases. H.A. believes they should become uber-efficient with their balanced digital innovation. Their exploratory research points to homogenised logistical programming and Pat Terson is leading the way in the field. He believes H.A.'s exploratory research points to regenerated logistical alignment. And who could blame him. Well done, Pat Terson!
This Just In: Godot Family Reunion turns into waiting game.
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| Pole Just Misses Anus |
So as you can see Jenks, for all intents and purposes, already had a pole up his ass to begin with and another pole could have had horrific consequences. "Yeah, I know", said Jenks. "Whew. That would have caused a considerable amount of pain." There has been no word on where or why the pole appeared, it just did.
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| Tracy's French Fry Shaped Wash Mitts |
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| Jazon Quomasio with Anti-Hinky Fever Virus "Cure" |
Jazon Quomasio of James Hopkins Research Lab in Huffakers, NV shows his delight and amazement at having discovered a cure for Hinky Fever Virus. Hinky Fever has been plaguing millions of people daily in the course of their boring and meaningless lives. Throughout the day, at any given time, a person could get "hinky" if they perceive a slight or distaste for a fellow humans attitude or actions. It can be a cause of discomfort for the person getting "hinky" and the person giving "hinky" as the person giving "hinky" is likely to say "Are you getting 'hinky' on me?" and of course this banal exchange could go on for several minutes. Multiply this by 6 billion and you can see the negative effects of the Hinky Fever over the course of a day, week, month, year, ad nauseum. Jason Quomasio will either get the Noble Prize or be quietly led out to pasture. It hasn't been determined whether removal of the Hinky Virus will help or hurt the species as of yet as some have speculated the everyday level of hinkiness is a kind of glue that holds us all together. Other scientists refute this as another form of the Hinky Virus itself.
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| click on picture for more detail |
Recent vacationers, Tim & Marva Klanghorn, noticed the bathroom shower instructions at Gulf Springs Eternal Motel as being both informative as well as useful with effective, pointed, and crystal clear instructions on the use of the shower hardware. "Don't Touch", "Leave as it. It does nothing." And also the barbed cautionary review of one of Home Depot's staple bathroom accoutrements by Glacier Bay: "Never buy a Glacier Bay set from Home Depot! Thank you!" A stern contraindication against the use of a device the owners found wanting. Of course Gulf Springs Eternal Motel owners could have returned the item to Home Depot and received another brand in return but they chose the route of consumer activism which may in the long run cause Home Depot and Glacier Bay to reconsider the quality of their merchandise. Hip, Hip!
Prominent Citizen Stumped By Stump Speech
Perched atop the hallowed “democracy stump” outside the Huffakers, Nevada courthouse steps, Thorbus "Bux" Buxley IV, leading citizen leader and Board of Supervisors supervisor, admitted to admittedly shocked reporters that he did not “get” the latest stump speech.
"You mean the one that was just now delivered? Just now?" asked cub reporter Nip Tuck of the Huffakers Daily Chronic.
"Yeah, that one," snapped Buxley, performing a graceful demi-plie atop the oaken stump.
Tuck nibbled the rubber end of his news pencil and replied softly, "Well, sir, you delivered it."
"Of course I did - and it was an epic enunciation!" Buxley's hands rose majestically, "But I could neither process nor comprehend it. Too many fifty-cent words and strange allusions to unicorns, necromancers and sacrilicious events. Didn't make no sense a-tall." After a short pause to “do the robot”, Buxley asked plaintively, "Did it?"
Volunteered volunteer Fire Chief Moe Handlin, playing with the bic in his pocket, "I did like the part about me."
Mayor Candy Hass didn't care for the undertones of it all and could only glower and practice furrowing his brow.
However, Wichita Lineman Miles Lineaus did enjoy the summary exegesis connecting free will and cheap beer.
"Well," mused Supervisor Buxley, ignoring the comments and slowly tracing the circumference of the democracy stump with an outstretched toe, "in the end I guess it was a pretty good stump speech. I mean, look, it stumped even me."
Every thing is different from any other thing. No identity exists. Names for things are invented, traded, equated. They (the names) are not things. They are a shepherd's call. Invisible restraints to bunch real things. Herein lies meaning. It may seem demeaning, yet it holds everything together. Its incredible.
Upon reading the fine print, Enid took off her glasses and paused a moment, surveying the 2 acre expanse of products and prices arrayed around her as if she were (as a nearby oxygen challenged Wal-Mart greeter later gravely stated) "the epicenter of a torus-shaped shockwave of pure consciousness, radiating out to imbibe all things within its purview", whereupon she placed the not-yet-purchased glasses astride the triangular eyes of the nearest jack-o-lantern, gathered her kids with a nod and a keen whistle, and exited the store without paying for squat.
Road to nowhere is not a dead end. Scientists at Huffakers University in Huffakers, NV have discovered that the road to nowhere is not a dead end but is actually a vast array of a somewhat bluish vagueness. Dr. Kevin Riddle, physicist at Huffakers U., checked out his departments Chevron Algonguin Stevedore 8 cylinder, fuel injected duo jet carburetor hyperbolic test vehicle and went further down the road to nowhere than anyone has gone previously. States Riddle, "I rounded a curve and up ahead I see a bluish vagueness instead of the nothingness that I was seeing before. The nothingness gave way to the vague bluishness and there it was and it was vague and blue so I just stopped and took it all in. I made note of it, drove toward it but it didn't look like I was getting closer so I just wheeled the Algonguin around came back to some hereness and nowness. As a physicist you don't want to hang around the vague too long. Dig it?"
Erratum
Our whiz-bang proofreaders have found an error in reportage as detailed herein. Staff is quite annoyed, yet still apologizes to our wide readership for the goof and is now mainly focused on finding someone to blame.
The September 4, 2013 post announced, "Personal Flotation Device to be replaced by impersonal non-flotation sponge." This is not correct. Actually, the Personal Flotation Device, or "P.F.D." will be replaced by a Personal Flirtation Device. Therefore, the acronym PFD will remain in common usage forever.
The old PFD was useful only to those in danger of drowning. The upgraded device will be of use to the many millions who never drown.
The new PFD will apply the latest in flirtation technology, most notably the deployment of a holographic Third Eye that winks.
Stay tuned for breaking news on who's to blame for the error.
A Big Day for Whirled HeadQuarters Headline News
Critical Facts Still Unconfirmed at Press Time!
Item: Supreme Court of Bermuda Shorts will hear suit over garment-activated penis reduction therapy.
Item: Personal Flotation Device to be replaced by impersonal non-flotation sponge.
Item: Voted least popular new beverage this year is The Water Bill, consisting of a glass of water, served chilled, with a frame-ready pay-now tab of Five Dollars.
Item: Jellyfish are in a jam.
Item: New Testament's red heifer deemed a red herring.
Item: The Homonym of the Year Award goes to holy, holey, wholly. Congratulations, words!
Item: Serge Piquerre, noted cineaste, pens scathing review of movie that doesn't exist: "March in Potato World."
Bank Closes in Huffakers, Nevada.
Zone 1 Now a Priority Zone
After years of fussy, over-wrought, total domination landscaping campaigns, historic Oakland Cemetery in downtown Atlanta, Georgia, has been declared a Zone 1 Priority Zone, according to Erominel Loosflucker, Fulton County’s Deputy Redundancy Deputy, and will receive major decompression and chaos enhancement therapy immediately. Said Loosflucker, "Sure the people here are dead, tell me something I don't know why doncha, but that doesn't mean they don't have feelings. Not to mention the ghosts who are being driven mad by all this bogus visual rectitude. Plus all these straight clean lines reduce the creep factor here, and what's a cemetery if isn't a bit creepy? You might as well go to a mall, where the dead people are walking around. Now that's creepy!" Loosflooker admitted that he was digressing, and blamed it rather obviously on the general lack of disorganization.
No Background to Check
While applying for a job as a Semi Conductor on the CSX rail lines it was discovered that Hiram Flatporm had no background to check. CSX HR spokesmodel E.L. Fandorth told company CEO Leyburn Whatscorthy that they had run numerous background checks to no avail. "Actually we found 2 things: 1) Flatporm owns a 1997 pre-GW Bush slant 6 dual aught 40 hemi head Chevron Alongonqin with one broken tail light and 2) there was a little bit of background noise in the lower left of the photograph he submitted with his employment application. Other than that, zippo. Pretty amazing because we Googled the hell out of this guy".
Item:
Area man "plots" world domination with $91 tax refund.
Leonard Stift of Scituate, MA, assistant zamboni operator at the Wee Willy
skating rink situated just outside Scituate, felt his entrepreneurial
spirit soar as he softened the ice in decreasingly concentric circles
in between periods of the raucous and tightly fought peewee hockey playoff
game last saturday. Oblivious to the blood seeping onto the ice from the
parents' booster section behind the home goal, Leonard dreamed of what
he would do with the $91 dollars in tax rebates that the President of
the United States himself had promised would be in his mailbox sometime
within the next three years if The President felt like it. First, Leonard
mused, he would buy his own zamboni and move to Mexico under a little-known
NAFTA provision. There, he would tap into the heretofore unrealized hopes
and desires of the indigenous peoples and lead an economic revival that
would sweep south, as newly enfranchised zamboni operators rolled over
coca fields in decreasingly concentric circles, inspiring everypeople
to toil together for the everyweal. And that was just the beginning....
meanwhile, just as the 6-8 year olds glided out to cut fresh lines in
the newly virgin rink, a continent away Virginia Smooth looked out over
the Pacific and asked her billionaire husband what he would do with his
tax rebate, and Mr. Smooth shrugged and replied, "I dunno. Rent some movies,
go see a hockey game, whatever..."
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Item: French
Lick, Indiana man conveys universal truth to world. In response to the
unending deluge of cosmic bullshit raining on his freaking midwestern parade
every freaking day, Regis Phlunge calved a vision so spontaneously rhythmic
and driven by a melody so profound, with lyrics so apt, that small river
fauna faced true north and barked soulfully. Driven by instinct, and barely
able to comprehend the profundity of the moment, Regis frankly elucidated
the most matter-of-fact and comprehensible explication of the eternal mysteries
that has yet to be recorded in human civilization. It was really swell. ___________________________________________
in the most exciting World Cup Soccer Game to date,
here's what happened:
The guy kicked the ball to the other guy who kicked the ball to another guy who kicked the ball to another guy who kicked the ball back to the first guy. The ball hit the first guy in the head and then it hit another guy in the head and then another guy kicked the ball to another guy who kicked the ball to another guy who picked it up with his hands and kicked the shit out of it. It was all very thrilling, practically unbelieveable in its tension and unremitting athleticism, on and on with guys kicking the ball to other guys for like six hours. The final score turned out to be just as wildly exciting as the entire game: 1 - 1.
_______________________________________
Item: Area man falls deeply and passionately in love with his old sofa.
"I don't know what took me so long," gushed Romeo Boggs of Whipville,
Tennessee, "She's been waiting quietly for me all this time." The love-struck
Romeo spent the entire weekend in intimate collusion with his old sofa,
eating, sleeping, snuffling, watching TV, putting off till next weekend
what was eminently doable this weekend, and by and large acting like a
soon-to-be-embalmed corpsicle, refusing to part from the genuine leatherette
caress of his newfound paramour. Unable to summon the energy to entertain
even the faintest whiff of self-loathing, Romeo Boggs grinned before he
lost his remote "one more time" in the alluring dark spaces between the
cushions of the love seat, and noted to himself, "Sometimes a man just
doesn't feel like doing what he's gotta do."
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Item: Government mandates wildly expensive study of "schooling" phenomenon. In an effort to rouse its lethargic, dimwitted and hopeless school children, the nation's leaders have determined that fish are the answer. The Department of Education has been renamed the Department of Fish, and every graduate thesis submitted to an accredited institution will be limited to the study of fish and their amazing capacity to "school". Says Jeffard Whitby, obviologist and Phish PhD, "We want to find the genetic markers that make fish want to school and once in "school" stay in school until they die or are eaten by sharks or are made into fishsticks. We can use this to increase children's desire to "school" and then later in life to keep a really cruddy job without killing more than half the people in the local cubicle area."
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Item: Man Gets All His Ducks in Row, Briefly. Joe Schmoxli of West
Huffakers, NV, owner/operator of the Family Innocence Petting Zoo, assisted
by his trained ferret, Hinky, recently arranged all 47 of his ducks in a
row in front of a mesmerized crowd of Cub Scouts, confused emus, wet-cold-blooded-codfish
and paying customers. Combining provocative rhetoric, disco hustle dancing
and magic fancy swipes with a broom culled from his years as an Olympic
curler, Mr. Shmoxli finally squeezed all the ducks into stringent alignment
for an official 1.3 seconds, a standard set by the Global Council of Imposing
Linearity. Moments later, overwrought by maintaining such a taxing vector,
several fowl spontaneously converted to Sufism, broke ranks and waddled
recklessly towards Greater Duckness like it was 1999.
________________________________________
This just in from the whirled headquarters news desk!
Godot family reunion turns into
waiting game.
______________________________________
Item: Upyersjohn,
the rising pharmaceutical company, has announced the newest in contrapreventive
medicine: the Clinic in a Condom. Licensed and distributed under the name
brand, "Terminator XXX", these condoms mark the latest in nanotechnological
convenience. Not only is the Terminator lined with antigens for the twelve
major sexually transmitted diseases, but it also features an aqueous film
of biolipids in which swim scores of microbiologically genengineered urologists,
infectious diseases and sperm killing experts. "Yes, of course they're
licensed" said Jonny Wadd, PR rep for Upyersjohn, "they just have really
small diplomas."
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What is not in dispute is that shortly after Ms. Kane received a $112 check from the Jupiter Bureau of Cultural Affairs, she pumped 1,973 rounds of hot lead into Mayor Chuff Whitbee's 1973 Chevron Algonquin Matador Custom deluxe all leather Full Tilt Cruiser at midnight last Tuesday under the harsh pinkish glow of the new mercury vapor street lights installed at Jupiter City Hall. Said a beaming Ms. Kane, "Metaphorically, Chuff's Matador is a piece of crapola but realistically it's not about symbols. It's about time and love and bullets."
Fortunately, Mayor Whitbee had recently insured the Matador against bad conceptual art and store-bought ammo. Mayor Whitbee was last seen under the self same harsh pinkish glow of the new mercury vapor street lights, running a trembling hand over the bullet-ridden side panel of his beloved Matador, weeping loudly and deconstructing modern art. Whether this was due to simple remorse or aesthetic catharsis is best left in the eye of the beholder, or perhaps stuffed in the glove compartment of the Chevron Algonquin.
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Item: Smallest state now officially claims slightly larger name: Rhode Estuary. “This has been festering ever since George Washington lost a platoon trying to outflank the enemy by circumnavigating the state in a war dinghy,” lamented Troy Lake who lives in one of formerly-Rhode-Island’s four squatty, narrow counties. Added Cranberryville Mayor Wiley Rivers, “Visitors ask, ‘Where’s the other side of the island?’ And we have to say, ‘It’s not an island. That over there, next to Papa Nick's Diner, is Connecticut.’ It's so embarrassing.” Other names under consideration included Rhode Promontory, Rhode Bog, Rhode Under Construction and Rhode Alluvial Fan. Rhode Estuary Governor Chim Cimini admitted off the record, “This might well continue to fester up."
________________________________
Item: Russia threatens to invade Ukraine even though it already has invaded Ukraine. But this time its different! Pyotr Sumovavitch, looking out from his balcony overlooking the police station in Siestapool as sullen officers in baggy Ukrainian uniforms ritualistically kiss the middle fingers of the gleeful “definitely not Russian” special ops troops that had taken charge of the station, sighed and muttered, "I very much hope Vladimir Putin is not obliged to use his right to kick our asses to Finland and I so fucking hope that through political and diplomatic means we can solve all the dreadful problems in Ukraine, including the inability to have a fabulous fashion outlet store somewhere within 50 km of Kiev. Thank you veddy much.”
________________________________
September 29, 2001
Item: George Bush displays new “War Mullett”, urges Americans to get a mullet-cut, buy a plane ticket and play “Free Bird” really loud this Saturday at vespers.
________________________________
Friday, February 07, 2003
Powell Declares Vial of Simulated Sperm to be "Evil": Holding the
opaque milky substance aloft in front of an eagerly revulsed world,
Colin Powell explained archly, "We got it from swabbing down the insides
of those shiny spent aluminum tubes we found outside Baghdad. I mean,
just use your imagination...you gettin' it?...you see now?...that's
right. That's just evil. Pure axis o' evil." When pressed, Powell
admitted that the disgusting vial contained only a "simulation" of the
(axis o') evil sperm, not the (axis o') evil sperm itself, but noted,
before winking out in a deliquesced puff of degaussed ions, that he, himself, personally was not "actually" here at all.
___________________________________
News of the Week (circa 2000ish)
Item: At the old and only post office in greater downtown Huffakers, Nevada,
on a day so piercingly crystal clear that all residual wisps of humidity
re-atomized in the pale hovering cliffs just outside of town (and portend the
arrival of an unrequited and long-lost love), the following comments were overheard by our itinerant
reporter this festive and laugh-out-loud holiday season:
Marsha Stillwater, Egyptologist stated, "I'm not a sex object anymore, I' m just an object."
Brenda Kaye, manager, Cactus Motor Homes said, "I'm trying to find my inner sponge."
Clay Finks, bagboy at Gillespies Super Foods, "Guys like me make you sick."
Sky Eagle Buffalo Shank, Warden, Navajo Game Reserve and Bingo Parlor, "We have the channels. We just don't have the TV."
Madge Listphizer, German, "Alcohol, it sharpens the wit."
Elridge Klestervonk, inmate at Spikey Knob Correctional Facility, "Fuck the law! Beer goes with everything."
And so on. Happy RamaHaQwaMas Holidays!
